The North Tower was bathed in a glowy light that reflected on Zaliyah's closed eyelids.
Usually, in the Capital, the mornings was merely a shift from noir to a bruised violet. But here, the sun reflected off the endless glaciers of the Northwest, creating a brilliance that felt holy and entirely alien.
Harun and Iruna had entered his room at the break of dawn, their movements were silent.
They stood over his bed, watching the rythmique rise and fall of the fur duvets. Zaliyah was deep asleep, his body had surrendered to the bottomless exhaustion.
It was the pregnancy, the twins knew the tiny life inside him was a tireless engine, fueled by the very marrow of his bones.
"Should we wake him?" Iruna whispered to Harun.
"No," Harun replied, his voice was low. "Let him sleep for a while longer. The world is too loud when he's awake."
