Lucius's gaze shifted, flicking between Florian and Cashew like a silent plea caught in his throat. And Florian saw it—he recognized that look instantly. Lucius wanted to speak. He needed to say something. But with Cashew still present, he couldn't.
'Now, he wants to talk.' Florian thought dryly, already feeling a weight form in his chest. He turned toward Cashew, softening his tone as he masked his irritation with a gentle smile.
"Cashew, can you go with Drizelous? Just in case he needs help with anything," he asked kindly, voice calm like a breeze before a storm.
Cashew blinked, caught a little off guard. But after a moment, he nodded quickly. "Yes, of course, Your Highness. I'll do whatever I can!" he said, a little too enthusiastically, his eyes filled with concern—concern not for Lucius, but for Florian. It was clear the boy was still focused on easing his master's stress, too distracted to notice the tense silence simmering between the other two.
