In the carriage, his father didn't say a word. Rihaan simply stared at the dark grey sky, thunder splitting through the clouds as if punishing him.
He almost laughed. Today was supposed to be the day he regained his freedom. Yet even the heavens seemed displeased.
The carriage halted. Rain poured down in sheets, violent and sudden. Servants rushed outside the mansion, umbrellas in hand, while guards opened the doors.
Rihaan stepped beneath a dark umbrella, though it barely shielded him. His perfectly tailored suit grew damp at the shoulders, but he didn't scold the servant. He welcomed the cold creeping into his skin. At least it kept him from smiling—something that would only enrage his father further.
Once they stepped inside, servants closed the umbrellas and hurried forward with towels.
The King dried himself first. Then he seized Rihaan's wrist, preventing him from doing the same.
Rihaan tilted his head, confused.
