Ezrahl's mind was silent.
She stared at him with moist eyes that carried nothing but anger. Her words were hateful, but the way tears reflected in her eyes, it looked as if she bore that hatred for no one as much as she did for herself.
He closed his eyes.
Wondering if he too had started to think as much as Ahzure does.
"You shouldn't have left the doors open," Ezrahl murmured a response in a tired voice, "Your Majesty."
She flinched when he leaned closer to check her temperature.
Aesther said nothing after that but looked at him as if the most heinous of devils was there to claim her soul.
Ezrahl took his hand back, not understanding how quickly her fever became this high. Her skin was scalding hot.
He pursed his lips, "You need to drink this medicine."
She looked away, whispering in a quiet voice.
"Are you sure about that…" Aesther smiled, there was a haunted distant look in her eyes, "You should kill me..."
