The forest was damp, the thick canopy overhead failing to shield Adrian from the pervasive moisture that clung to his cloak and hair. The scent of wet earth and decaying leaves filled the air, an olfactory reminder of the forest’s natural cycle of life and death. A light mist swirled around him, hinting at the first snow that would soon blanket the land in white. Adrian shivered slightly, but not from the cold; it was the anticipation of what lay ahead that made his breath catch in his throat.

He approached the small cottage, its wooden walls entwined with vines and moss, hidden deep within the forest’s embrace. It was a modest structure, unassuming and humble, a stark contrast to the grand halls and opulent rooms Adrian was accustomed to. He paused at the door, a pang of regret piercing his heart as he raised his hand to knock.

After a moment, the door creaked open, revealing a young boy with dark hair and eyes as black as the night. The boy’s expression was wary, his posture protective as he blocked the entrance.

“No visitors,” the boy stated firmly, his voice carrying a hint of authority that belied his age. Adrian felt a flicker of annoyance at being turned away by a mere squire, likely appointed by Elysia’s sister, the queen, to ensure her well-being.