[Imperial Palace — Guest Chamber — Earlier That Night]
The corridors were quieter here, far from the music, far from the laughter. Only the faint echo of distant celebration lingered—dulled by stone and swallowed by distance.
Zeramet walked ahead, unhurried, yet every step carried weight; behind him were Sharukh and Captain Varesh. They followed him, silent and watchful.
"Is everything prepared?" Zeramet asked, his voice low, effortless, yet absolute.
Varesh bowed his head slightly. "Yes, Malik. Everything has been arranged. We depart at first light."
Zeramet gave a faint nod, no more. The doors to the guest chamber opened, and he entered. The room dimmed to his preference—lamps burning low, their golden light pooling rather than spreading, leaving the corners untouched…claimed by shadow.
Zeramet took his seat upon the couch, one leg crossing over the other. His posture was relaxed but never careless.
