In a tone that brooked no argument, Draven's voice echoed through the quiet corner. "It has been healed already."
Camilla's gaze, now turned from Draven's miraculously healed hand to his face, held a knowing glint. She had expected this outcome, for she possessed an intimate knowledge of Draven's power—knowledge that extended beyond the boundaries of the mortal realm, a knowledge residing within her very being. A subtle smile graced her lips as she responded to Draven's stern query.
"It's a relief, my king, that your hand is healed on its own," Camilla replied, her voice carrying a sense of calm assurance. Her demeanor hinted at a deeper understanding of the situation, one that went beyond the surface appearance of the Immortal Stone's power.
Draven's expression, however, remained steadfast and unyielding. His curiosity and determination burned brightly as he pressed for answers, demanding the truth. "Now tell me what it is," he urged, his voice a command that brooked no evasion.
