By the time the royal cabin emerged from the trees—a grand, secluded stone retreat with a wide covered deck elevated like a throne overlooking the forest—they were both drenched. Lucien slowed the horse beneath a large oak.
He dismounted first, then reached up with both hands, spanning Elian's waist as he helped him down gently, his thumbs brushing lightly over wet fabric in silent reassurance.
"Climb up to the deck, Elian," Lucien murmured, his voice low and stripped of its usual steel. "Stay under the overhang. I'll be right there."
Elian nodded wordlessly and ascended the wooden steps, arms wrapped around himself as rain drummed overhead. Lucien led the stallion to the sturdy shed he had built beside the cabin, quickly securing the animal with fresh hay and a dry blanket before striding back through the downpour.
He climbed the steps and took Elian's hand without asking, guiding the quiet young man inside.
