The Choice

the bracelet

The next morning, long before the fortress stirred to life, I slipped from the room I shared with my sisters. They still slept soundly, but rest never came easily to me when a war was on our doorstep. With my daggers strapped to my belt and a cloak wrapped around my shoulders, I stepped into the crisp dawn air.

Outside, the world was quiet. The grass was damp, and mist curled along the edges of the How. I found a tree on the training grounds, painted a rough bullseye on its trunk; and began to throw. At first my aim faltered, but soon the rhythm steadied me—dagger, thud, retrieval, repeat—until I struck the centre with a satisfying precision.

The silence broke with the whip of an arrow. It buried itself just inches from my bullseye.

"Not bad," I called, spinning around.

Prince Caspian stood a short distance away, lowering his bow with a grin tugging at the corners of his mouth.

"Care for some help, princess?"

I raised a brow. "I'm doing just fine without your royal advice, thank you."

His smirk widened. "I never said otherwise."

Rolling my eyes, I gestured at the tree. "Besides, you missed."

That earned a laugh from him. "Pick a target, and I'll prove you wrong."

"Alright then." I scanned the field until I spotted a small pinecone clinging high up on a branch. "There. That one."

He followed my gaze but aimed at the wrong branch entirely. With a sigh, I stepped forward, adjusting the angle of his arm until he was lined up properly.

"You sure that's not just a squirrel?" He teased.

"Positive. Now shoot."

Caspian loosened the arrow. It clipped just beside the pinecone, making it tremble before dropping.

"Not bad," I said, unable to stop a grin. "For a prince."

His dark eyes narrowed playfully. "Think you can do better?"

"Watch closely." I drew my dagger, let it spin once in my palm, and flung it. The blade struck clean trough the pinecone, knocking it to the ground.

His brows lifted, and for a moment he seemed genuinely impressed. "Well, remind me never to stand on the wrong side of your temper."

I laughed, warmth spreading trough me despite the cool morning air.

A low growl from my stomach broke the moment. Caspian's amused expression softened. "You haven't eaten?"

"I didn't want to wake anyone," I admitted.

"Then let me make it op to you. There's a place on the battlements with the best view in the fortress Join me for breakfast?"

I hesitated, then smiled. "Lead the way, my prince."

The view was worth it. From the high ledge of the How, the forests stretched endlessly, silvered by the rising sun. I sat beside Caspian, bread, and berries in hand, and for a while we just ate in silence.

"It's beautiful," I murmured.

He nodded, his gaze fixed not on the horizon, but on me. "Maria, may I ask you something?"

I turned. "Of course."

"Why train so hard? I've seen you fight— you're better than half the soldiers in my army. Yet you rise before dawn to do more."

I fiddled with the strap of my dagger. "Because I don't want to be a burden. If others have to protect me, they'll get hurt. I'd rather hold my own."

His expression softened. "You'll never be a burden. People protect you because they care. Because you matter." He paused, then added more quietly, "I care."

My heart skipped, though I tried to mask it with a small smile.

"Thank you, Cas." I reached out, resting my hand briefly on his shoulder.

The movement seemed to startle him. His eyes flicked down to the bracelet at my wrist. "Where did you get that?"

"This?" I held it up, the worn metal catching the light. "A gift. Years ago, when I worked in a field hospital during the war."

He looked at me in surprise, so I told him—about the wounded soldier I'd refused to abandon, the rescue that nearly cost me my place, and the bracelet he had pressed into my hand with gratitude.

"He claimed it was magical," I finished with a small laugh. "At the time I thought it was nonsense. Now...I'm not sure."

Caspian didn't speak. Instead, he reached beneath his tunic and drew out a pendant that swung gently from a chain. My breath caught. The shape—half of a shell—was identical to the fragment on my bracelet.

"My father gave this to me as a boy," Caspian said softly. "He told me to keep it close, that one day it would lead me to something that would change my life." His eyes met mine, steady and searching. "Or someone."

For a long moment, words escaped me. The wind whispered across the battlements, carrying with it the scent of pine and earth. Slowly, I leaned against his shoulder, letting my head rest there.

"Can we just stay like this?" I whispered.

His voice was low, warm. "As long as you wish, princess."

And with the steady rhythm of his breath beside me, I drifted into sleep.