Serpent Emperor's Bride

Chapter 176: The Flower That Pretended to Die

[Silthara Palace — Captain Varesh’s Chamber — Later]

"What?"

Arkhazunn’s voice finally broke the silence, soft, disbelieving, and almost stunned. "What did you just say...?"

Across the chamber, Varesh froze for half a breath; only then did he realize what had escaped his mouth. What his emotions had accidentally revealed.

Immediately his gaze lowered, avoiding Arkhazunn’s eyes completely.

"...forgive my words, High Mage." His voice returned to its usual calmness, controlled and disciplined. As though he were hurriedly forcing armor back over something vulnerable.

"I spoke without thought." A pause and then quieter—"I shall sleep on the couch tonight."

Varesh turned away before Arkhazunn could answer, not hurriedly, not dramatically but with the careful restraint of a man retreating before his own feelings betrayed him further.

The chamber fell silent again.

Only the sound of leather shifting and quiet footsteps remained as Varesh removed his boots beside the couch.

Then finally he lay down with his back facing the bed. Facing away from Arkhazunn entirely. As though distance itself could hide what almost surfaced moments ago.

Meanwhile, Arkhazunn remained sitting upon the edge of the bed completely motionless, still staring and still processing.

"What..." He ruffled his hair roughly with one hand. "...was that?"

His chest still felt painfully heavy from the dungeon, from Naburash, from heartbreak that had not yet settled.

And yet something else now lingered quietly beneath that pain, something unfamiliar, warm, steady, and dangerously gentle.

Arkhazunn glanced toward Varesh again. The broad shoulders, the rigid posture even while pretending to rest, and the silent care hidden beneath every action tonight.

And somehow that gentleness frightened him more than obsession ever had.

Because obsession burned loudly, but tenderness? Tenderness entered quietly, and once it settled inside your heart, it became impossible to remove.

Arkhazunn exhaled heavily, then finally laid back against the bed. Exhaustion was slowly pulling at his body. The lantern light dimmed lower.

The palace beyond the chamber grew quieter, and eventually sleep claimed him at last.

Several long moments passed afterward. Then slowly Varesh opened his eyes; he remained facing away from the bed, silent and still.

"...careless."

His whisper barely reached the darkness, one hand clenched faintly against the blanket beneath him. "I almost revealed everything."

But despite the warning to himself, despite knowing this path could only bring pain, Varesh could not stop the quiet thought that followed.

At least tonight... Arkhazunn was not alone, and somehow for now that was enough.

***

[The Next Day — Silthara Palace — The Malika’s Private Courtyard — Mid Afternoon]

Mid-afternoon sunlight poured across the private courtyard in streams of warm gold. The garden still carried wounds from the night before: broken stone borders and crushed flowerbeds.

Silver claw marks were carved deep into marble where Lyresaph had landed in fury, and yet despite the destruction, life was already returning.

Gardeners moved carefully across the courtyard, kneeling beneath the sun as they replaced ruined soil and replanted flowers one by one. Servants carried silver trays filled with fresh blossoms while quiet murmurs drifted softly through the warm air.

At the center of the courtyard stood Levin, watching silently. His silver robes shifted lightly beneath the breeze while sunlight spilled across his hair like molten silk.

Beside him, Iru stepped forward and bowed slightly.

"Malika..." He gestured toward the newly arrived plants waiting beneath shaded silk coverings. "The fresh flowers from the southern gardens have arrived."

Levin’s gaze shifted calmly toward them, several attendants carefully uncovered the plants one after another, and immediately color flooded the courtyard.

Deep crimson hibiscus. White lilies are soft as moonlight. Golden marigolds glowing warmly beneath the sun. Fresh jasmine vines carry a sweet fragrance through the air.

Nearby Asha immediately bounded excitedly around the flowers, pawing curiously at the baskets. Meanwhile, Lyresaph—still in smaller form—blinked lazily beside the stone fountain.

Then suddenly—SNEEZE—!!

A burst of silver smoke escaped him violently. Flower petals scattered everywhere. Asha jumped backward in complete offense, then smacked Lyresaph lightly across the nose with one tiny paw.

Levin actually paused, and a faint smile almost appeared.

Lyresaph merely blinked again as though deeply insulted by flowers existing at all. Levin stepped closer toward the arranged blossoms, examining them carefully.

"They chose well this time."

Iru visibly relaxed at the approval. "Yes, Malika. These were specially selected from the imperial desert caravans."

Levin’s fingers brushed lightly over jasmine petals, then paused; something unusual caught his attention immediately.

Near the very back, partially hidden beneath darker leaves, stood a strange flower unlike the others.

Levin slowly reached toward it, and the moment sunlight touched its petals, the flower shimmered faintly.

It looked almost dead and yet...beautiful. Its petals were long and fragile, colored in faded gold that resembled dried sunlight trapped inside brittle silk.

The edges curled inward like burned parchment. Its stem was dark bronze rather than green, and tiny grains resembling desert sand clung naturally to its petals as though the flower itself had been born from dunes.

Then a tiny voice suddenly echoed from behind one of the marble pillars.

"That is a Sahraveth Bloom..."

Levin lifted his gaze calmly toward the voice, and there, half-hidden behind the pillar, peeked Nyra; only half her face remained visible.

The rest of her body hid carefully behind the marble like a cautious little desert fox. Levin looked at her quietly, then back toward the flower.

"This is my first time seeing such a flower."

Nyra blinked, and immediately something brightened visibly across her face, because this time the Malika had not told her to leave.

Slowly and carefully she stepped fully out from behind the pillar. Then suddenly gathered courage and hurried toward him with small, quick steps, robes fluttering behind her.

"The flower only blooms within dying sand deserts," she explained eagerly, eyes shining with excitement. "And its petals open only beneath moonlight."

Levin listened silently while she stood beside him, looking far smaller next to the towering courtyard flowers.

"Merchants call it the Last Sunflower of the Wastes," Nyra continued proudly. "They say the Sahraveth Bloom is a symbol of hope. Proof that even within barren lands..."

Her small fingers gently pointed toward the faded petals.

"...something beautiful can still survive."

The warm wind shifted softly through the courtyard. Even the gardeners nearby slowed unconsciously while listening to the child speak.

Nyra’s excitement only grew further as she added quickly. "The priests of Lord Urzan call it a divine blessing. They believe the flower survives harsh sunlight by pretending to die during the day..."

Her eyes sparkled brightly.

"...and blooms only when the world becomes gentle again at midnight."

The courtyard quieted around those words, and for a moment, Levin simply stared at the fragile golden flower silently, a flower surviving by disguising itself as lifeless and waiting patiently for softness to return.

Then his gaze slowly shifted toward Nyra again. Toward the child now practically glowing with happiness simply because someone had listened to her.

And suddenly—

PAT. PAT.

Levin gently ruffled her hair very lightly, carefully enough not to ruin it. "Thank you for sharing such valuable knowledge with me, Lady Nyra."

Nyra completely froze, her eyes widened and then immediately sparkled brighter than before. "I-I shall study even harder from now on!"

She nearly stumbled over her own words in excitement. "So I can tell you more things in the future!"

Levin actually smiled faintly this time, soft and warm and rare enough that even nearby attendants looked surprised.

"I am honored by your dedication." His voice lowered, gentler than before. "But knowledge loses beauty when earned through exhaustion."

Nyra blinked.

"Do not overwork yourself."

The little girl nodded immediately, far too quickly like an eager kitten being praised for the very first time.

Then Levin suddenly asked, "Would you like to eat macarons?"

Nyra’s eyes widened instantly.

"Macarons?" Her expression turned genuinely confused. "But Zahryssar does not serve those..."

"Perhaps Zahryssar does not," Levin replied calmly; a faint amusement flickered across his gaze. "...but Thalryn does."

Nyra stared at him like someone who had just been offered treasure. Levin glanced toward Iru quietly.

"Iru."

The attendant immediately bowed. "Right away, Malika."

And quickly disappeared toward the palace kitchens. Levin then turned slightly and began walking toward the shaded seating area beside the fountain.

After several steps he paused, then looked back over his shoulder toward Nyra.

"Come."

That single word was enough. Nyra immediately hurried after him, practically following beside him like a tiny palace cat finally allowed near warmth.

And as she walked beside Malika, still rambling excitedly about flowers, desert myths, and ancient books—something inside the courtyard softened quietly, because no matter how intelligent Lady Nyra appeared... No matter how much knowledge she carried for someone her age...

At the end of the day she was still only a child.

A lonely little serpent who bloomed instantly beneath the smallest kindness, Levin, without even realizing it, had just become sunlight to someone who desperately needed warmth.

Meanwhile nearby, Lyresaph sneezed dramatically into another flower basket. Asha attacked his tail in retaliation, and for the first time in many days, the courtyard truly sounded alive again.

***

[House Varoth — The Same Time]

Unlike Silthara Palace, House Varoth carried no warmth that afternoon. The mansion stood beneath a dim sky wrapped in tension thick enough to suffocate.

Even the servants moved quietly through the corridors, careful not to disturb the storm lingering inside the estate.

Inside the Varoth estate office Lady Arinaya sat motionless upon the lower diwan. A parchment trembled faintly within her hands, not because of cold because of shock.

Across from her, Sharukh Varoth watched carefully, confusion slowly darkening his expression.

"My Lady..." His voice lowered cautiously. "Why are you trembling? Is the information truly that disturbing?"

Lady Arinaya did not answer immediately. Her eyes remained fixed upon the parchment spread before her. Upon the name written there repeatedly in dark ink.

Serath Min.

Slowly—very slowly—she lifted her gaze toward Sharukh, and for the first time since entering the estate—something resembling unease appeared across her usually composed face.

"You mentioned..." Her voice came quieter now. "...that the blood matched a member of the Serath Min lineage."

Sharukh nodded immediately. "Yes, and as I already informed you, the body discovered near the training grounds was confirmed to be his."

Lady Arinaya’s fingers tightened around the parchment.

Too tightly.

"I..." For the first time her voice faltered. "...I spoke with Serath Min before leaving my estate this morning."

Silence, an absolute silence.

Sharukh stared at her, then blinked once. As though his mind had refused to understand the sentence entirely.

"...what?"

Lady Arinaya slowly placed the parchment down upon the table. Her expression had gone pale now, disturbed in a way Sharukh had never witnessed before.

"That is impossible," Sharukh muttered immediately. "No...I conducted the investigation personally. The bloodline verification matched perfectly. The family records confirmed it."

He stood abruptly.

"Every member of the Serath Min family is accounted for except one. Serath Min himself."

Lady Arinaya’s heartbeat began thundering louder beneath her ribs because suddenly pieces began fitting together in horrifying ways.

"The mother stated he never returned home." Sharukh’s voice lowered slowly now. "Which means...If the corpse truly belongs to Serath Min..."

Lady Arinaya finally whispered the thought neither of them wished to say aloud. "...then someone else is wearing his face inside my mansion."

The room seemed to grow colder instantly. Sharukh stared at her silently, then very slowly his expression darkened.

"And if that is true..." His voice dropped dangerously low. "...then there is only one explanation left."

Lady Arinaya’s breath slowed her fingers curled slowly against the edge of the parchment.

"I fear...that the serpent living beneath my roof...may not be a serpent at all."

Sharukh finished the sentence for her, quietly like a curse finally spoken aloud. "...someone from the Black Serpents."

The lantern flame flickered violently beside them, and somewhere far away within the vast empire of Zahryssar—a monster wearing another man’s face smiled quietly beneath stolen skin.