For the first ten minutes, the carriage moved through the dark streets in complete silence.
The wheels rolled steadily over stone, the gentle sway of the carriage rocking them back and forth. Inside, the space felt smaller than it truly was. The curtains were drawn, the lantern light dim, and the air carried the faint scent of leather and cold night air.
Noel sat with his hands folded tightly in his lap.
Then unfolded.
Then folded again.
Every few moments, he swallowed, his throat dry despite himself. He could hear his own breathing far too clearly. Each time the carriage shifted, his shoulder brushed lightly against the seat, reminding him of how close Arthur was... even without touching him.
He did not look at Arthur.
