Through the telepathic link, Rex felt Lily's grip tighten not on his physical hand, but on his mind. It was a metaphysical vice, a wordless transmission of raw, unfiltered terror that bypassed language entirely.
It was the sound of a soul shivering in the dark. He turned his full attention to her, reading the minute tremor beneath her carefully maintained mask of composure, before reaching out to take both of their hands at once.
He anchored them there, his calloused palms enveloping theirs in the center of the courtyard while the household behind them erupted into a frenzy of preparation, the metallic clatter of weapons being checked, the shouts of messengers, and the distant rumble of wagon wheels.
He looked at Lily first, letting her see the steadiness in his pupils, then shifted his gaze to Diana, letting the silence stretch until it carried the full weight of the moment.
"Everything will be alright," he said.
