The cool air hit Elian like a whisper as they stepped out of the pool, the wet ceremonial robe clinging to his form. A shiver rippled through him, and let go of Izan's hand as he instinctively moved his hands to his baby bump, both for warmth and comfort. Izan, moved at his side in an instant, steadying him with a firm yet gentle hand on his back.
"Bring the robes," Izan instructed, his voice calm but commanding.
The attendants, already prepared, moved swiftly. Their hands were deft yet respectful as they draped Elian in layers of soft, dry fabric. The material, enveloped him like a cocoon. Despite the warmth it provided, Elian's shivering persisted, partly from the cold, partly from lingering nerves. Izan, now clad in his own garments, placed a hand on Elian's shoulder, grounding him.
"You're trembling," Izan said softly, leaning in closer.
