Heena collapsed, sinking heavily onto the cold marble floor of the dining hall.
Samuel didn't hesitate for a single second. The stinging, bright red handprint on his cheek meant absolutely nothing to him. He threw himself onto his knees right beside her, his hands frantically hovering over her trembling frame.
"Wife?! Are you okay?!" Samuel's voice cracked with raw, undisguised panic. He didn't care that the most powerful warlords in the empire were watching them. He reached out, his hands shaking as he gently tried to support her shoulders. "What is wrong? Seera? Seera, look at me!"
Heena looked up at him. She saw his trembling hands. She saw the sheer, naked desperation in his dark eyes—a desperation that went far beyond normal worry.
And suddenly, a single, hot tear slipped from her eye, tracing a path down her pale cheek.
'He knows.'
