"Your Imperial Majesty, she is—"
Silver didn't even bother to finish the formal greeting. The words died in his throat as he looked at the Empress with hollow, desperate eyes, his usual composed, enigmatic demeanor entirely shattered.
Revena didn't waste a single second on courtly pleasantries either. She moved past him like a sudden gust of wind, her silk gown rustling against the stone floor as she sat directly on the edge of the bed beside her daughter.
"Damn it," Revena hissed under her breath, her perfect noble composure cracking for a fraction of a second. "I knew that madwoman wouldn't rely on just a single trick."
She leaned over, her sharp, experienced gaze fixing immediately onto Evangeline's shoulder. The jagged wound remained wide open, the flesh around it dark, irritated, and emitting a sickeningly sweet stench. It was utterly refusing to close, the blackish blood continuing to weep sluggishly onto the velvet sheets, mocking Evangeline's divine mana.
