Hearing Phillipe's distressed cries, his close attendant, Lewis, was the first to rush into the room. His eyes widened at the sight before him. Zenna sprawled on the floor while the king kept his hands on his eyes, at the same time, he struggled to regain his breath.
"Your Majesty!" Lewis hurried to Phillipe's side, carefully helping him onto the couch.
Tristan stormed in right after, expecting to witness an attack or some grave danger. But what he saw was something entirely different.
Zenna's eyes, glowing with an eerie silver hue, gradually faded back to their natural color as she rose from the floor. She seemed dazed, her breath uneven as she locked eyes with her father.
Phillipe, now seated on the couch, took slow sips of water.
"What did you do to His Majesty?" Lewis demanded.
Zenna flinched at his accusatory tone. "I… I did nothing," she said. Confusion clouded her mind. She had no idea what had just happened.
