Serpent Emperor's Bride Chapter 99: The Flower that Walks Unseen

[Silthara Palace — Chamber of Physician Naram — Night]

Night had settled deeply over Silthara Palace.

Beyond the carved lattice windows of the physician’s chamber, the moon hung like a pale coin over the desert sky. The palace had grown quieter now, its long corridors dimly lit by bronze oil lamps whose flas trembled softly in the night wind.

Inside the chamber of Physician Naram, however, work had not yet ended.

Scrolls lay open across a cedar table. Mortars of polished stone held crushed herbs, dried roots, and powdered minerals gathered from the far corners of the empire.

At the center of the table stood a small glass jar filled with smooth white tablets. Naram carefully placed the last tablet inside before sealing the lid.

He wiped his hands slowly upon a cloth and looked at the jar with quiet satisfaction.

"Powder of Shamash Bloom," he murmured thoughtfully.

The Shamash Bloom was a rare golden desert flower known to grow only beneath the hottest sun of the western dunes.

"A flower blessed by the sun itself." Naram folded his hands behind his back and nodded to himself. "This will give Malika the strength his body needs."

His gaze softened.

"Seven months of nourishnt... enough to support the growth of the golden heirs." A quiet breath escaped him.

"I cannot believe the heavens have chosen to witness such a mont."

He lifted the jar carefully.

"No physician in Zahryssar has ever been given the honor of preparing dicine for the bearer of the Golden Blood." His eyes glead faintly with pride. "I must record everything."

He turned toward a wooden cabinet and slid open a drawer. Inside rested a thick leather-bound diary.

Naram placed it upon the table and opened it reverently.

"Yes..." His fingers brushed across the blank page. "This knowledge will guide the generations that follow."

His voice softened as he spoke aloud his thoughts.

"One day... when another consort carries the blood of the Golden Serpent... these records will guide the physicians who serve them."

He reached for his quill, but before the ink touched the page—

KNOCK. KNOCK.

The sudden sound echoed through the chamber.

Naram lifted his head, "Yes?"

The door creaked open slowly. An imperial attendant bowed respectfully.

"Lord Naram."

The physician set down his quill, "Yes?"

"The palace chef humbly requests your presence in the imperial kitchen." The attendant lowered his gaze. "He asks that you inspect Malika’s al for tonight."

Naram nodded imdiately.

"Very well." He sealed the jar carefully and placed it beside the diary. "Food inspection is more important than writing."

He adjusted his robe and stepped toward the door, "Lead the way."

The attendant bowed again, "As you command."

Together they left the chamber; the corridor outside swallowed their footsteps as they disappeared into the depths of the palace.

Silence returned for several monts—nothing moved. Then—from the shadowed corner of the hallway—a figure stepped forward.

Naburash.

His eyes were colder tonight than usual; he glanced slowly up and down the corridor.

No servants, no guards, and no witnesses. With quiet precision, he pushed open the door to Naram’s chamber.

The hinges creaked faintly as he entered. His gaze imdiately fell upon the table and upon the glass jar of white tablets.

He approached slowly, each step careful and asured.

The jar reflected the lamplight softly, for a mont. Naburash simply stared at it. Then he reached inside his sleeve. From the folds of his robe he withdrew another jar.

Identical.

Inside it lay tablets of the sa shape and color. But the faint scent rising from them carried a darker origin.

They had been crafted from the flower with pale violet petals... streaked with thin black veins.

The poison of Azhrakaal.

Naburash removed Naram’s jar and replaced it with the false one. The movent was quick.

His eyes drifted toward the open diary resting on the table; he stepped closer. The ink had not yet touched the page.

Naburash stared at it quietly and then at pills, muttering, "I apologize... Malika."

His voice was no louder than the whisper of desert sand.

"But this is the only path left to ; forgive ."

He gathered the original jar of dicine into his sleeve, and without another word, Naburash stepped out of the chamber, and the door closed behind him with a soft click.

Then, within the quiet room of the imperial physician, the dicine ant to protect the Golden Heirs of Zahryssar had just been replaced with sothing far more dangerous.

***

[Silthara Palace — The Imperial Dining Chamber — Later That Night]

Night had deepened across Silthara Palace.

Within the imperial dining chamber, the lamps burned low and steady, their golden flas reflecting across polished marble floors and bronze pillars carved with ancient serpentine sigils.

The evening al had nearly ended.

Servants moved quietly along the edges of the chamber, collecting empty dishes and wiping the long cedar table where the Malika and the emperor had dined.

Levin sat calmly at the table, a cup of warm herbal infusion resting near his hand. Across from him stood Iru, attentive as always.

"...Did the al please you, Malika?" he asked respectfully.

Levin inclined his head slightly.

"Yes."

His voice was calm, carrying that quiet dignity the court had co to associate with him.

"It was well prepared."

At his feet, Asha stretched her small body lazily as she yawned wide enough to reveal sharp little teeth. Seeing the dramatic yawn, Lyresaph tilted his head curiously.

Then—without warning—his long tail gently flicked forward and rested directly across Asha’s open mouth.

Asha froze.

She blinked.

Once.

Twice.

Her eyes slowly narrowed, then—PAW!

She swatted Lyresaph squarely across the head. Lyresaph recoiled in outrage, and the two creatures imdiately began squabbling across the marble floor in a flurry of claws and offended chirps.

Levin chuckled softly; the quiet sound echoed warmly in the chamber. Zerat watched him. For a mont the emperor simply observed the way Levin’s expression softened when he laughed.

And slowly—a faint smile appeared on Zerat’s face as well, but the mont was interrupted when Iru stepped forward again.

In his hands he carried a small glass jar. He placed it carefully upon the table.

"Malik."

Zerat’s attention shifted.

"The physician Naram has sent this." He gestured respectfully toward the jar. "He said the tablets were prepared from the Shamash Bloom."

Iru’s voice carried quiet reverence.

"The golden desert flower blessed by the Sun God himself. Physician Naram said it will strengthen Malika’s body while he carries the heirs."

Zerat reached for the jar.

The glass caught the lamplight as he turned it slowly in his hand; he opened the lid. Then brought it closer to inspect the scent.

"Hm." His golden eyes narrowed slightly, then he nodded. "If Naram prepared it, it can be trusted."

Iru bowed slightly, "Yes, Malik."

Zerat closed the jar again and glanced toward him. "When should he take it?"

"Once each day, Malik," Iru folded his hands respectfully. "After the evening al."

Zerat nodded.

"Good."

He opened the jar again and carefully removed one white tablet. Turning toward Levin, he extended his hand.

"Consort." His voice softened. "Take this."

Levin accepted the tablet without hesitation; he trusted Zerat, and Zerat trusted Naram. The small pill disappeared into Levin’s mouth as he swallowed it with a sip of warm drink.

Neither of them knew—the dicine had already been replaced; the poison now moved silently through Levin’s body.

Zerat placed the jar aside and stood.

"It is late." His gaze softened slightly. "You should rest."

Levin nodded and rose, but before leaving, he glanced toward the chaos still unfolding across the floor. Asha had now pinned Lyresaph beneath her paws.

Lyresaph hissed indignantly while trying to free his tails.

Levin sighed faintly.

"You two." His voice carried calm authority. "Enough."

The two creatures froze instantly; both turned toward him.

"It is ti to sleep."

Asha blinked.

Lyresaph blinked. Then the two slowly turned their heads toward each other; there was a long mont of silent accusation.

Then—

"Hmph!"

"Hmph!"

Both creatures turned away from one another dramatically and, with exaggerated dignity, followed their master out of the chamber. Behind them, the palace lamps flickered softly in the night.

And sowhere deep within Levin’s body, the poison of the violet-veined flower had begun its silent work.

***

[Silthara Palace — The Emperor’s Chamber — Late Night]

Night had wrapped Silthara Palace in quiet stillness.

The moon hung high above the desert sky, its pale light slipping through the carved lattice windows of the imperial chamber. Silver patterns stretched across the marble floor and climbed the silk curtains like ghostly vines of light.

Within the vast chamber, the lamps had been dimd.

Only a single fla burned beside the bed.

The world beyond the palace walls slept, and upon the imperial bed—Levin slept peacefully. He rested against Zerat’s chest, his breathing slow and even, the exhaustion of the day finally claiming him.

Around him coiled the body of the Serpent Emperor.

Zerat’s lower form had returned to its true nature—powerful scales of deep silver and obsidian wound protectively around the bed like a living fortress.

His human arms held Levin close.

Half serpent.

Half man.

Entirely protective.

For a long while the chamber remained quiet.

Then—Tug.

A small tightening pulled suddenly through Levin’s stomach, his brow furrowed faintly in sleep.

Another tug, not sharp, not painful, but strange and unfamiliar. Levin shifted slightly, his eyes slowly opening.

"...mm." His fingers moved instinctively toward his stomach. "What is this...?"

His voice was barely more than a whisper against the silence of the chamber. He pushed himself up slightly, sitting against the pillows while still surrounded by Zerat’s protective coils.

His palm rested over his stomach, for a mont the strange sensation lingered, a small pulling, like sothing tightening deep beneath the skin.

Then—It faded.

Levin blinked slowly.

"Oh..." He exhaled softly. "...perhaps it was nothing."

The night air remained warm and still. Levin lay back down again, settling against Zerat’s chest. The emperor stirred faintly in his sleep and tightened his arms around Levin instinctively, his coils shifting slightly to draw him closer.

Levin sighed quietly, within monts—Sleep claid him again. The palace remained silent.

The desert winds moved gently beyond the palace walls, and the night passed peacefully for the Malika of Zahryssar.

Unaware—That the small tug he had felt within his body...was not a harmless stirring, but the first whisper of sothing far darker beginning to awaken inside him.