Three days had passed since Vorkund sank into a sea of corpses, yet Zero Castle still stood firm amidst a siege of silence.
Dayat stood motionless on The Terrace of Equilibrium. The coffee cup in his hand had grown cold an hour ago, leaving behind a bitter, scentless dreg. His eyes narrowed, staring straight toward the east. He hadn't truly slept soundly since Wabil revealed herself. Every time he tried to close his eyes, that faint smile behind the veil of black hair haunted him. And every time he jolted awake with labored breath, the first thing he did was check on Dola—simply to ensure his wife was still breathing.
"You need to eat, Dayat."
Dayat turned slightly. Lunethra stood in the doorway of the terrace, clutching a tray with wheat bread and a bowl of steaming soup. Her green gown appeared slightly rumpled, and soot stains remained on the edge of her sleeves—she was just as sleep-deprived as the rest.
"I'm not hungry, Lunethra."
