Elian sat on the couch by the side, watching Lucien work on his desk.
It's been hours. Lucien made sure they served Elian his meals right in the study, but not once did Lucien eat.
The sky was darkening, a storm was coming, and Elian knew people were already retiring to their rooms, but this stubborn Duke was trying to work himself to death.
Elian could actually up and leave anytime he wanted, but he didn't want to leave Lucien alone in here. He could still remember what happened back at Rowena's garden; Lucien had overworked himself until stress overtook him.
Thunder suddenly roared above the roof, startling Elian. He gulped, clawing his fingers into the arm of the couch.
Lucien didn't flinch a muscle; he simply kept moving his quill over the parchment, unbothered by the time or the weather.
Elian sighed quietly and curled himself up on the couch, closing his eyes.
