(Thomas Chamber)
The air was heavy with worry. Lyla lay on the grand bed, her face pale against the pillows, her eyes barely open. Her long hair was slightly tousled, falling over her shoulders. Her breaths were shallow, her body weak, trembling with each shift.
Thomas stood near the window, already dressed in a dark embroidered tunic and high boots, prepared for the day ahead—but his heart wasn’t settled. He hadn’t moved far from her since dawn broke.
A soft knock came at the door.
"Enter," Thomas called sharply.
The door opened quietly, and the palace healer—a tall, old woman with sharp red eyes and silvery-white hair tucked into a braid—stepped in gracefully. Her long, forest-green robe swayed as she walked toward the bed.
She gave a quick bow of respect to Thomas before moving t
