Ivan helped Lydia back into the carriage, his hand gently supporting her as she stepped up. Her body was still trembling. She didn't say anything. Her eyes were red, her lips pale, and tears still ran silently down her cheeks. She looked so small, so vulnerable.
He helped her sit. She slumped into the corner of the seat and held her arms tightly around herself. Her face was turned away from him, pressed against the velvet cushion of the carriage wall. Her breathing was shaky, uneven, as if her chest couldn't decide whether to hold it in or let everything pour out.
"It's alright," Ivan said softly, kneeling beside her. His hand touched her shoulder carefully, not wanting to startle her. "You're safe now. I promise you, nothing will happen to you. I won't let anything happen to you."
Lydia didn't respond. She just nodded weakly and wiped her face again. Her fingers shook as they moved across her cheeks.
