The queen’s false bravado was as clear as glass, however Lethe did not comment on it. Instead he got up, and walked around the couch to stand behind Iliana. Trailing soft fingers through her hair, he began to weave out the rivets of water. Personally, he didn’t mind wet hair, but he felt the queen did not share his sentiment.
"The weather here is usually damp, you should know that." And if not damp from rain, than the heavy mist or thick fog could do just as well to cling to clothes and hair.
Lethe might have said more, prompted her to speak again, had he known how. But words were not his forte, so he settled for drawing the rain water from the queen’s person, and waiting for her to speak of her own regard
That skill of his came in rather handy. She took the towel he'd offered and wiped at the remaining dampness on her body. Hands, legs, face--her face saw the worst of it. Rain made her makeup run, leaving trails of black tears down her cheeks. Even cleaning those away didn't help. She still looked like some undead creature with sunken red eyes.
So much for the appearance of a refined Queen.
"My apologies. I'll remember to check the forecast next time."
She blinked, dragging the towel down her face. Lethe's silence on the elephant in the room was unsettling. It felt like a pressure she couldn't shake. The fingers in her hair tingled and her shoulders tightened, body shook in a sudden chill.
Fire, a dragon's magic, helped cure that.
And finally, she began to speak.
"...there has been some--disturbances in the palace. Nothing to affect the government, rest assured," she reached for the mug and took another soothing taste. "But, on a personal level there has been some...discomfort." Always political, always stoic in front of everyone--well, most everyone.
