The door groaned open, revealing a sodden figure standing in the entrance of my secluded cabin. Rainwater dripped from the edges of his princely garments, and his eyes, a mix of fear and fatigue, met mine beneath a mop of wet, disheveled hair.

"Attacked on the road, you say?"

I studied him, the young princeling named Aerin. His response was a nod, and I stepped aside, allowing him to enter my refuge. The cabin's wooden floor creaked under his weight as he moved in, leaving behind a trail of rainwater. With a subtle wave of my hand, I closed the door, shutting out the storm that raged beyond the cabin walls.

The tapestries on the walls, relics of a forgotten era, flickered in the dim light. The air carried the faint scent of herbs, remnants of concoctions and potions I brewed for my own mysterious purposes. The hearth crackled, offering a feeble warmth against the relentless onslaught of rain outside.

As Aerin took in his surroundings, I broke the silence.

"I'm Jaylynn,"

I stated, my voice a mixture of warmth and intrigue.

"What brings a princeling like you to my humble abode?"

My gaze bore into him, seeking the truth behind the facade of a shelter-seeking royal.