Meanwhile, in another part of the palace, Zephirah paced back and forth in her opulent chamber, her silk robes swishing softly with each step.
The elegant fan in her hand moved with practiced grace, its rhythmic motion a reflection of the nervous energy that coursed through her veins. Her thoughts were consumed by worry as she waited for Kealen, her heart pounding in her chest as she wondered where he could be.
With each passing moment, Zephirah's anxiety grew, casting a shadow over the luxurious surroundings of her chamber. She glanced at the ornate clock on the wall, its hands ticking away the seconds with agonizing slowness. Where was he? What could be keeping him away?
As she continued to pace, her mind raced with a million possibilities, each one more alarming than the last. Had something happened to him? Was he in danger? The uncertainty gnawed at her insides, filling her with a sense of unease that refused to be quelled.
