The morning sun had shifted slightly, casting elongated shadows across the forest floor as Alterain guided Yves toward a massive tree just outside their camp. Its gnarled roots curled protectively around the prince as he slumped against the wide trunk, his body trembling.
Alterain's arm remained around him, the tension in his grip betraying the conflict brewing inside the commander.
A part of him was furious—furious at Yves for his recklessness, for wandering off with a knight he barely knew. But another part of him was deeply, intensely worried. The attack had shaken Yves and left him vulnerable in a way that Alterain wasn't used to seeing.
Yves stared off into the distance, his chest rising and falling with rapid, uneven breaths. His hands were still trembling slightly, his mind trapped in a spiral of panic that he couldn't seem to shake.