Esteria stirred from the depths of a dark slumber, her consciousness slowly surfacing from the void. Her body felt heavy, as if weighed down by invisible chains. She could hear the faint crackling of a fire, the soft rustle of fabric, and the distant murmurs of voices that were both familiar and foreign.
As her eyes fluttered open, she found herself in a dimly lit chamber. The walls were adorned with ancient tapestries, and the air was thick with the scent of incense. A soft, warm glow emanated from a hearth at the far end of the room, casting flickering shadows that danced across the stone floor.
Esteria's gaze shifted, and she saw him—El-Kharis—standing near the bed where she lay. His tall, imposing figure was wrapped in a dark cloak, and his piercing blue eyes were fixed on her with an intensity that sent a shiver down her spine. His expression was one of concern, his usual confidence tempered by something deeper, something more vulnerable.
