[Thalryn Empire — Imperial Palace — Guest Chamber — Later]
The chamber prepared for the private council was smaller than the great hall, yet the air inside felt heavier than any battlefield.
A single brazier burned near the wall, its low flame leaving long shadows on the stone floor. Outside the tall windows, the northern wind struck the palace towers with a hollow, restless sound that did not seem to stop even for a breath.
On the table between them lay the opened parchment bearing the imperial seal. The words written upon it had already changed the mood of the entire palace.
"…Zahryssar has decided to support the Western Empire."
The emperor's voice still lingered in the room, even though he had spoken the words moments ago.
Levin sat straight in his chair, his posture flawless, his face calm as ever; only his fingers betrayed him.
