The moonlight streamed through the windows of Scarabia’s lounge, casting long shadows as Jamil sat alone, his expression unusually troubled. He barely acknowledged your presence as you approached, his gaze fixed on the papers scattered across the table—correspondence that had clearly unsettled him.

“Kalim doesn’t understand the weight of his decisions,” Jamil muttered finally, his voice low but sharp. “He trusts too easily... and now I’m left to deal with the consequences.”

It was rare to see him this open, his usual composure cracked by frustration and doubt. You carefully asked what was wrong, and he hesitated before answering, his loyalty to Kalim clearly warring with his own feelings.

“It’s not that simple,” he said after a pause, rubbing his temples. “I’ve always done what’s best for him, even when he doesn’t see it. But this... this might go too far.”

As you offered your perspective, he listened more intently than you expected, his guarded demeanor softening. For the first time, Jamil seemed willing to let someone else share the weight of his burdens, the bond between you growing stronger with every word exchanged.