James's eyes flew open suddenly. His breath hitched as he sat upright, tears slipping from the corners of his eyes. "Mother…" he whispered, his voice shaky.
Sebastian, who had been resting nearby, immediately stood and rushed over. "James? What happened?" he asked, his brows furrowed in concern.
James placed a hand to his forehead, trying to calm down. "It's nothing," he muttered. "Just… a dream."
Sebastian hesitated, watching the sweat on James's forehead. "Should I use my healing magic? You don't look well."
James quickly shook his head. "No—you can't. Not here." His voice was serious now. "Your magic is dark. This palace is protected against those kinds of spells. You'll be stopped."
Sebastian nodded quietly. "I understand. I won't."
He walked over to the table, poured a glass of water from the jug, and handed it to James. "Here. Drink this."
James accepted the glass and took a slow sip, his breathing beginning to steady.
