Eugene sat leisurely, blissfully unaware of the chaos that had unfolded , until his lord appeared. In an instant, Eugene straightened, his eyes widening at the sight before him. Rhaegal looked disoriented, his clothes torn and stained with dried, brownish blood. And he wasn't alone. And beside him was someone else—someone Eugene had seen only a few times before. He was pale and clearly injured, leaning heavily on rhaegal. But Malin?. Malin stood there untouched, as if he hadn't been through the same horror. His clothes were clean, his hair still neat, not a mark on him. Eugene swallowed hard. He didn't need to ask. He understood at once. Lord Rhaegal had given his all—once again—to protect the boy.
But why? The question gnawed at him, his curiosity a slow-burning flame that was fast becoming an inferno.
Without a word, Eugene guided the carriage away from that place. His hands worked the reins, but his mind raced, filled with thoughts he couldn't shake.
