Pialo Hambling stood rigidly outside the hospital room, his gaze fixed on the closed door where Kiara was. The sterile hallway air buzzed with the faint hum of fluorescents, sharp with the pungent scent of antiseptics. His pulse thrummed in his ears, a counterpoint to the muffled beep of machines beyond the door.
Footsteps echoed urgently down the corridor, and his secretary, Givenchy, appeared, his usually immaculate suit rumpled. “Your Highness,” he panted, skidding to a halt with a slight bow.
Pialo didn’t turn, his voice low but edged with command. “Did you send word of Kiara’s condition to Menderly?”
Givenchy straightened, smoothing his tie. “It’s already done, sir. I’ve just spoken with Zander Dominic.” A beat of silence hung between them before he added, “He said they are going t
