[Imperial Palace — Guest Chamber — Continuation]
Silence did not fall; it pressed. Heavy, breathing and watching. Aelira’s voice lingered in the air—fragile, trembling, desperate.
"...Brother-in-law... he... he is trying to kill , brother."
No one moved, not Varesh, not Sharukh, not even the air itself dared to shift, because the mont those words left her mouth—sothing changed.
Levin stood still, not shocked, not confused. Just... still. His gaze rested on her—not as a brother, not as soone who had once shielded her from truth—but as soone who was finally seeing.
Truly seeing.
"...Trying to kill you?" His voice ca soft and it did not carry warmth.
Aelira nodded quickly, crawling slightly forward despite her trembling limbs, "Yes... yes—he—he suddenly attacked —I don’t know why—"
Her voice cracked perfectly, placed, desperately fragile, but Levin’s eyes did not move, not even once.
"Aelira..." He spoke her na quietly, and yet there was sothing beneath it. Sothing sharp enough to cut.
She looked up at him instantly, relief flickering too quickly in her eyes. "Brother—you need to believe , I—"
"You are not a child anymore." The words fell flat and final.
She froze, her lips parted—but no sound ca out, because the way he was looking at her It was not her brother, not anymore.
"...Brother..." her voice trembled, smaller now, uncertain. "...Are you letting die? ...Are you not saving ?"
Tears slipped down her cheeks, real or practiced. It no longer mattered, because Levin did not move. He did not step forward; he did not reach for her; he only looked at her.
Cold, still, and distant in a way he had never been before. Then slowly his gaze shifted past her, toward the doorway.
Where they stood.
Duke Aren. The Emperor and Princess Seraphina, not intervening, not speaking because the situation—this was no longer a matter for the court.
This was a family judgnt.
Levin’s voice ca again, quieter but heavier.
"...Father." Aren’s gaze t his, steady and knowing. "It is ti."
A pause. Levin’s jaw tightened—just slightly.
"...Her actions are no longer... sothing that can be contained."
Silence stretched. Aelira’s breath stilled, her body trembled—not from fear of death anymore but from sothing worse.
"...No..." Her head turned slowly toward the door, toward her father.
"...No..."
Duke Aren stepped forward once; his expression was not frustrated, not cruel. It was worse, and it was decided.
"She will be sent away to Nereth Vaal."
The na fell like a sentence.
"A settlent beyond the eastern sea," he continued, his voice carrying no comfort. "Far from the capital. Far from court. Far from influence."
A pause.
"...Far from harm."
Aelira stared at him as if she had not understood. It was as though her mind refused to comprehend.
"...No..." Her head shook slowly at first and then faster. "No... no—you cannot—I cannot live in a place like that!"
Her hands slamd against the floor as she tried to push herself up, desperation overtaking whatever dignity she had left.
"Father—please—I didn’t do anything wrong—I was just—"
"Enough."
The word did not rise. It dropped heavy.
Aren’s gaze hardened—just enough. "You have done enough, Aelira; it’s ti now you realize your mistake."
Aelira’s breath shattered.
"...You’re sending away...?" Her voice had beco barely audible. "...for him?"
Aren did not answer imdiately because the truth did not require defense.
"Yes."
One word and it ended everything. Aelira’s gaze snapped back to Levin. Sothing wild, sothing broken, and sothing hateful flashed across her face.
"...So this is it?" Her voice trembled—not with weakness now but with sothing darker. "You chose him...over , brother. Did you already forget the promise you made to Mother?"
Silence.
Levin did not react imdiately, but sothing in his eyes shifted. Sothing that had finally... hardened.
"...That promise...is the only reason you are still alive." The words landed heavy and unforgiving.
Aelira stilled. Levin stepped forward, not close enough to touch but close enough to end the distance.
"That promise," he continued, his voice lower now, sharper, "...is what stopped . Again and again."
A pause; his gaze did not leave her.
"...But it does not protect you anymore." Her breath hitched. "Not every sin can be buried beneath Mother’s last words."
Silence deepened. Levin’s jaw tightened—just slightly.
"I would have given you everything. The estate...the title...even the inheritance ant for ."
Aelira’s eyes flickered for a mont—hope and desperation, then—Levin’s voice cut through it.
"...But not him, not my mate."
The finality in those words left no room for argunt, no space for illusion.
"This ti," Levin said quietly, "...no one will stand between you and the consequence you have earned."
The room grew colder not from power but from truth.
Behind them Princess Seraphina moved, swift and controlled. She reached Sharukh first, steadying him as he struggled to stand.
"You both should not remain here," she said softly, though her tone carried command. "Co. The imperial physician will tend to you."
Sharukh nodded faintly, still weakened. Varesh stepped in beside them imdiately, struggling alone.
Then turned slightly.
"...Father."
The Emperor gave a small nod, no words, and just like that they left. The door closed, and with it the last witnesses left only judgnt behind.
Aelira stood alone.
Truly alone.
"You’re not even the duke—" her voice snapped suddenly, sharp, desperate, grasping for sothing—anything. "How can you decide sothing like this—?!"
Levin did not raise his voice; he did not need to.
"I am the heir."
The words were calm, but they carried weight and authority.
"And even if I were not..." His gaze flicked briefly toward their father. "...he would have made the sa decision."
Aelira turned slowly, almost unwillingly.
"...Father...?"
Duke Aren stood still, unmoving and unyielding. For a mont he said nothing.
Then—
"Until your departure is arranged..." His voice was steady and cold. "...you will remain isolated."
Aelira stared at him.
"...No attendants... No contact... No freedom beyond what is permitted." Each word sealed her fate further and finished quietly, "...You will reflect...on what you have beco."
Silence.
Aelira’s body gave out.
She sank because now there was nothing left to hold onto. No brother, no protection, no illusion, no escape, and worst of all—no one was coming to save her.
Her lips parted slightly, but no sound ca out, because for the first ti she understood, this was not anger.
This was the end of her.
Later the chamber did not return to normal.
It simply... settled, like a storm that had passed but left its weight behind. The doors opened once more, not with authority, not with presence.
Just servants.
Two maids entered quietly, their heads lowered, their movents careful—as if even stepping too loudly might awaken what still lingered in the air.
They did not speak; they did not look up; they only went to her. Aelira did not resist, not anymore. Her body moved when they pulled her, unsteady and unwilling but silent.
And then—she was gone.
The door closed soft and final. Duke Aren remained for a mont longer. His gaze moved from the empty space... to Levin... and then, briefly, to Zerat. Still coiled, still imnse, and still watching.
"...I will leave you alone." His voice was quieter now.
Levin nodded once; he did not speak. Aren lingered for a breath longer. As if he wished to say sothing more, but he didn’t. Then he turned and left.
Levin stood there for a mont, then slowly he turned. Zerat remained in his full serpent form, massive and silver. His coils still occupied most of the chamber, though no longer threatening, no longer violent.
His golden eyes lowered, eting Levin’s.
"...Are you well... consort?"
His voice was quieter now, not the king, not the tyrant. Just him. Levin did not answer imdiately; he stepped forward instead.
Slowly.
Until he stood close enough to touch. His hands lifted gently. Resting against the cool, smooth scales along Zerat’s face.
He rubbed softly, thumb tracing along the curve of his cheek.
"I am well..." His voice was quiet but tired. "...Are you calm now?"
Zerat did not answer with words; instead, his massive body shifted slowly, careful, and controlled. His tail moved first.
Sliding, curling. Until it wrapped around Levin, not tight, not possessive, just protective. Then he lowered himself. Resting his head against Levin’s shoulder. A creature large enough to crush kingdoms—now leaning into sothing fragile.
"...Your presence..." Zerat murmured, his voice low, softened by sothing rare, "...is enough to steady ."
Levin exhaled slowly. His body gave in just slightly—leaning back against the weight, accepting it. His hand moved again, stroking along the silver scales.
Gentler this ti and slower.
"...You nearly killed her." A quiet statent.
Zerat’s eyes flickered. "...She nearly destroyed everything I have."
Levin’s fingers stilled for a mont, then resud.
"It’s over now, and...I apologize; I did not raise her well."
"You do not have to bla yourself, consort; you did your best....The path of envy...it was chosen by her."
But even as he said it, it didn’t feel finished. Zerat shifted slightly, his coils adjusting. Levin did not argue because he knew. The room dimd further as the night deepened. Moonlight slipped through the shattered window, spilling silver across silver, across skin.
Levin leaned back slightly, letting himself rest. Just for a mont. Zerat did not move. Did not loosen his hold.
They remained like that, not speaking, not thinking. Just... staying because after everything—after truth, and betrayal, and fury—this was the only place left
Where neither of them had to hold anything back.
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