"𝐈 𝐜𝐥𝐢𝐦𝐛𝐞𝐝 𝐭𝐡𝐫𝐨𝐮𝐠𝐡 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐰𝐢𝐧𝐝𝐨𝐰,
𝐛𝐮𝐭 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐰𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐭𝐨 𝐛𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐤 𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐨 𝐦𝐲 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐭."
━━ 𝐍𝐎𝐂𝐓𝐈𝐏𝐇𝐀𝐍𝐘 • In which Telmarines and Narnians finally live amongst each other in peace. Except for...
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• C H A P T E R • S E V E N • A DANCE FOR FREEDOM
"I TOLD YOU TO wear a disguise!"
Caspian glanced down at his clothes, Lora's voice cutting through the quiet night. They stood at the east gate, she with her arms crossed, Caspian with an oblivious look to his outfit. They seemed perfectly normal to him—plain enough, not as formal as the attire he usually wore at court, but still decent.
"I am," he said, his tone genuinely confused. He wore a simple tunic and trousers, a far cry from his royal attire, and his boots were scuffed from travel. That should count for something, right?
Lora's eyes widened in exasperation, and she rolled them with a sigh, muttering something under her breath as she turned away from him. "That is not a disguise. You're the King of Narnia. Everyone knows your face," she said, shaking her head.
As her hands worked their way to the buttons of her cloak, she cast him a quick glance, her lips pursed in mild frustration.
Caspian crossed his arms, watching her. "Not everyone."
Her fingers paused on the final button, and she looked up at him, eyebrows raised. With a pointed look her way, she knew what he was getting at. Her.
She huffed, dismissing his point. "No, not everyone. But around Cair Paravel, certainly a lot. And trust me, they'll recognize you." She made quick work of the last button and shrugged the cloak off her shoulders, bundling it in her hands. "Here." She tossed it toward him, smirking as he fumbled to catch it. "It's probably going to be a bit small on you, but the hood will cover that pretty face of yours."
Caspian raised an eyebrow, the barest hint of a grin tugging at the corners of his lips. "Pretty?"
Lora stepped closer to him, her hands on her hips as she looked him over again. "Yes, pretty," she replied, her tone matter-of-fact. "Too pretty for the place we're going." She watched as he held the cloak awkwardly in his hands, unsure of how to fasten it. Seeing his struggle, Lora let out an exaggerated sigh, stepping into his space. "Here, let me."
Her fingers brushed against his as she took the cloak from him, moving with a quick, no-nonsense efficiency. Standing this close, Caspian couldn't help but notice how easily she handled herself, as if she'd done this a thousand times. The faint scent of sea and forest clung to her clothes, and there was something about her presence that caught his attention without trying. As she reached up to secure the clasp, her face only inches from his, he felt a strange warmth, an unexpected flicker of tension that wasn't entirely uncomfortable.
"Hold still," she muttered, adjusting the hood around his face. Her fingers brushed lightly against his jaw, and though the touch was brief, it left an odd feeling in its wake. She pulled the hood low enough to cover his eyes, nodding to herself in approval.
"There," she said, stepping back to survey her work. "That should help. At least from a distance."
Caspian watched her as she moved back, feeling the weight of the cloak settle around his shoulders. It was smaller than he was used to, and the material smelled faintly of trees and wind, a trace of Lora's life beyond the castle walls. "And you think this'll work?" he asked, still half-amused by her sudden efficiency and her almost-too-close proximity a moment before.
