[Silthara Palace—Throne Hall—Zahryssar—Continuation]

The throne hall had become suffocating with fear and only silence beneath the towering serpent pillars. Slyvarakh sat upon the imperial throne like a serpent preparing to devour everything around him.

And before the throne, Lady Arinaya remained kneeling gracefully, head lowered respectfully and hands folded calmly before her.

Yet somehow she looked less afraid than the nobles standing behind her. And that alone irritated Slyvarakh further. For several moments the Malik said nothing, only staring at her silently. Silver eyes sharp enough to skin and flesh apart.

Then quietly and dangerously he finally spoke. "You were close to my consort."

Arinaya answered immediately and carefully. "Yes, Malik."

Slyvarakh’s fingers tapped once against the throne armrest afterward. "How close?"

Silence briefly spread through the hall because everyone understood this question held poison beneath it.

Arinaya lowered her gaze slightly further before answering. "The Malika trusted me enough to allow my presence near him beyond duties."

Slyvarakh’s expression remained unreadable.

"And did he trust you enough..." A faint dangerous smile appeared. "...to flee beside you?"

The throne hall instantly became colder afterward, but Arinaya remained perfectly composed. "I would never possess such audacity against the throne."

Slyvarakh chuckled softly afterward, low and humorless. "...everyone says that before betraying the throne."

The words echoed sharply through the hall, and nearby nobles visibly stiffened. Slyvarakh slowly leaned forward upon the throne afterward, silver eyes narrowing. "You attended my concerts constantly."

"You knew his routines. You knew his fears." And then softly, almost like a blade touching skin, he asked as his smile widened faintly.

"So tell me...how exactly did a pregnant consort disappear from the most heavily guarded palace in Zahryssar?"

Silence, and it was heavy and dangerous.

Arinaya slowly lifted her eyes afterward. Meeting Slyvarakh’s gaze directly despite the pressure crushing the hall. "The Malika was never imprisoned, Malik."

The answer stunned the hall slightly. Slyvarakh’s smile disappeared instantly, and Arinaya’s voice remained respectful and controlled.

"A cage remains a cage even when decorated with gold."

Immediately several nobles looked horrified. One attendant nearly dropped a scroll tray entirely.

Slyvarakh’s silver eyes darkened dangerously afterward. "Careful."

But Arinaya continued calmly as her voice softened slightly.

"The Malika lost his mate; he lost his home, and then he learned he would be handed to another Malik before the mourning ashes beneath his heart even cooled."

Silence swallowed the throne hall completely afterward because no one dared acknowledge it aloud because everyone knew she was speaking truth.

Slyvarakh slowly rose from the throne again, and this time the atmosphere became murderous. His silver robes dragged heavily against black marble as he descended the throne steps slowly like a serpent approaching prey.

Then suddenly he stopped directly before Arinaya as his voice lowered dangerously. "So now...you pity him?"

Arinaya did not look away. "I understand him."

The answer came instantly and without hesitation. Immediately, Slyvarakh clenched his fist on the armrest, and several nobles gasped quietly in fear. His silver eyes burned coldly into hers afterward.

"You speak boldly for someone standing one breath away from execution."

Arinaya’s breathing tightened slightly from the force of his rotten pheromones. Yet somehow she still did not look afraid. Then quietly she answered as a faint, dangerous smile touched her lips.

"If the Malik wished for my death...I would already be dead."

Silence exploded through the throne hall afterward.

And behind the throne, even Sarash slowly lifted his eyes now because somehow even he had not expected Arinaya to push this far. And for several horrifying moments, Slyvarakh simply stared at her, studying, thinking, and calculating.

Then suddenly he smirked, and his rotten pheromones, which wrapped her around like a serpent...he released. Arinaya staggered slightly but immediately straightened again.

Perfectly composed. And then Slyvarakh slowly turned away afterward, as his silver eyes were colder now and more unstable.

"...you are either innocent...or dangerously intelligent."

Arinaya lowered herself into another respectful bow afterward. "I exist only to serve Zahryssar."

Slyvarakh laughed softly again, but this time it sounded almost insane. "Then pray your loyalty proves genuine, Lady Arinaya."

He slowly glanced back over his shoulder. Silver eyes gleaming sharply. "...because when I find who helped my consort escape...I will turn their death into a warning the empire remembers for centuries."

And throughout the throne hall no one dared breathe too loudly because everyone could already feel it; Zahryssar was no longer ruled by grief. It was being ruled by obsession.

***

[Thalryn Imperial Palace — Northern Capital — Afternoon]

Snowstorms swept endlessly across the northern empire. Unlike Zahryssar’s burning deserts and golden storms Thalryn breathed coldness into everything.

Into its skies. Into its rivers and into the towering silver palaces carved from froststone and black cedar.

And deep within the imperial palace, massive fire braziers burned warmly around the council chamber, and outside the towering glass windows, snow continued falling endlessly across Thalryn.

Duke Aren Veyrhold sat silently across from the ruler of Thalryn himself. Wrapped heavily in dark royal furs and unlike the serpents of Zahryssar, the humans of Thalryn carried warmth inside their authority.

For several moments the emperor remained silent. Reading the sealed imperial letter resting upon the table between them.

Then finally, he sighed heavily, his sharp eyes slowly lifted toward Aren. "I was informed...that Levin escaped after Malik’s death."

A dangerous silence followed afterward, and Aren nodded slowly as tiredness was visible openly across his face now.

"He was being prepared to become another Malik’s consort."

Immediately the emperor’s expression darkened, disgust flickering visibly across his face. "...their laws are disturbing."

The snowstorm outside intensified softly against the windows.

"How can they expect a mourning Malika..." He frowned deeply afterward. "...one carrying his dead husband’s child...to share a bed with another serpent before the body turns to soil?"

Silence spread heavily afterward.

Then quietly the emperor leaned backward upon his chair.

"No wonder humans warn one another never to entangle ourselves too deeply with serpent empires."

Aren remained silent because deep inside he could not entirely disagree. Then after several moments Aren finally asked quietly, "...Did anything arrive from Zahryssar?"

The emperor nodded once afterward, then slowly he pushed another sealed scroll across the table, black serpent wax marked upon it as his voice lowered slightly.

"Yes. The new Malik has sent a formal summons." Aren’s expression hardened immediately. "He demands your presence within Zahryssar...and requests proof that Levin is not sheltered within Thalryn."

Silence swallowed the chamber afterward, with only firewood crackling softly nearby, and the emperor slowly folded his hands together afterward.

"It is a trap." The words came instantly and without hesitation as his eyes narrowed sharply. "If you enter Zahryssar now...they will arrest you."

Aren’s jaw tightened slightly afterward because he already suspected the same.

"They will hold you hostage..." The emperor’s voice grew colder now. "...and force Levin to surrender himself willingly."

Outside, the northern winds howled violently against the palace towers, and then Aren slowly lowered his gaze afterward, thinking carefully and calculating.

"You are right." His tired voice echoed quietly through the chamber. "But if we ignore Zahryssar completely...the new Malik will not remain seated peacefully for long."

The emperor nodded once because both men already understood Slyvarakh was unstable. And unstable rulers often created wars simply to reclaim pride.

Then quietly the emperor asked, "What should we do?"

Silence followed, long and heavy. Then Aren finally spoke as his fingers tightened faintly against the table.

"First...I must find my son."

The snow outside thickened heavily afterward.

"And secondly..." Aren’s expression darkened with determination now. "...I request the emperor send search parties toward the western and eastern border empires surrounding Zahryssar."

The emperor frowned slightly afterward. "...for Levin?"

But Aren slowly shook his head. "For Malik Zeramet."

Silence exploded quietly across the chamber afterward, and the emperor’s eyes narrowed. "...you believe he still lives?"

Aren nodded immediately, without doubt and without hesitation as his voice lowered carefully afterward.

"The silver dragon born from Levin and Zeramet’s mate bond still remains beside Levin, and according to serpent mating laws...the dragon cannot survive if one bonded mate dies completely."

The emperor fell silent afterward, thinking deeply as he leaned back, asking, "So...Malik lives somewhere beyond Zahryssar’s borders."

Aren nodded again. "I am assuming this according to the time and place he was attacked. So we need to find exactly where."

Silence spread once more through the chamber. Then finally the emperor sighed deeply.

"I shall dispatch northern search parties immediately." He rose slowly from his throne chair afterward, heavy royal furs shifting softly as his voice turned colder now.

"And I will send diplomatic requests to neighboring empires...requesting permission to investigate western and eastern territories bordering Zahryssar."

Aren lowered his head respectfully afterward. "...thank you, your majesty."

The emperor smiled faintly and tiredly. "Do not thank me."

Then slowly he stepped toward the massive frost-covered window overlooking the snowy empire as his voice echoed quietly through the chamber.

"As emperor...it is my duty to protect my citizens. Especially Levin."

Outside snowstorms continued swallowing the northern skies endlessly. While somewhere far beyond the frozen empire, a grieving consort searched unknowingly for his mate.

And somewhere else a wounded emperor whispered only one name in his unconsciousness, and just like that, the search for Levin, Zeramet, and the truth hidden beneath Zahryssar’s collapse had finally begun across the kingdoms.