Eryndor looked up as Rayne approached, his silver eyes met Rayne's, locking in a quiet, intense exchange.
"Crown Prince Rayne. You are swift, the Princess is unharmed," he said, his voice soft and melodic, yet carrying a deep resonance.
Rayne knelt beside Viana, momentarily ignoring the Elven leader. He reached out, his fingers brushing against her cheek, her skin was cool to the touch. He examined her carefully, only scrapes and bruises, mostly superficial.
A deep gash on her riding habit hinted at a close call, causing his jaw to tighten. He needed to know what had happened.
His gaze shifted to the monstrous creature lying dead nearby, its massive bulk a grim testament to the danger she had faced, alone. "What happened here?" Rayne asked, his voice low and controlled, though a flicker of anger simmered beneath it.
He looked back at Eryndor, his eyes demanding answers. "This… thing," he gestured toward the beast, "and Viana…"
