Malakar swallowed hard; he was waiting for the response, but in the pit of his stomach, a creeping realization began to form.
His eyes fixated on the cold stone floor as the eerie silence stretched between them. His breath hitched slightly as he awaited the words of his Lord.
"You're not supposed to be here, Malakar," Xalor said quietly, his tone calm, almost devoid of any emotion.
Malakar clenched his fists at his sides, unsure how to respond, his thoughts constantly battling the conflicting emotions that roared within him. His mind raced with questions, but he couldn't speak, not yet. He needed to compose himself and understand the situation first.
"You couldn't sense me, could you?" Xalor continued, his voice cutting through Malakar's turmoil. "That look of bewilderment... It's not the reaction I expected from you."
"My Lord…" Malakar's voice was low, strained with disbelief. "Forgive me, I didn't... I didn't recognize you. Your presence—it's—"