The moment Caspian steps into the inn, the sleepy tavern keeper’s face lights up.

  “My lord! What a sight it is to see your safe return!” The older man wipes his hands on his apron, gleaming as Caspian walks towards the bar. “You needn’t worry my lord. The best room is yours, free of charge.”

  “That won’t be necessary.” He smiles at the man, his tone leaving no room for argument. He pulls a coin purse off his belt, putting it on the bar. “Can you bring up a bowl of hot water, and some bread? Without waking up the kitchen staff.”

  The innkeeper hesitates, his hand hovering over the pouch, as if debating whether he should refuse or not. But then he meets Caspian’s gaze. Caspian raises his brow, daring the man to refuse, and the keeper smiles at Caspian, thankful.

  “As you wish my lord.”

  He disappears into the back, returning moments later with a simple meal. A plate of some cold meats, cheese and bread. Telling Caspian he’ll get his wife to bring up the hot water once it’s boiled. Caspian thanks the man, before taking the plate in one hand and turning back to me.“We’re going up.”

  I scowl, but don’t argue. My exhaustion outweighing my stubbornness.

  Caspian moves to the stairs nearby. He walks up, navigating the narrow wooden staircase with silent ease. I follow reluctantly, every step up feeling heavier than the last, my eyes struggling to keep open. The warmth of the tavern below fades as we reach the first floor.

  Walking into the hallway, lined with thick wooden doors, each leading to a modest room, we walk to the last door.

  I don’t need him to say anything. This is…our room.

  The realisation tightens in my chest, and I take a gulp, Caspian’s heat radiating from behind me. He shifts the plate in one hand, pushing the door open with the other. His gaze flicks from me to the room, telling me to enter with his eyes. I hesitate. Just for a second. But I swallow a breath and enter the room.

  The door shuts behind me and my heart skips a beat. I don’t turn around to face his large presence, anxiety building in me.

  The room is small, too small. It’s a modest space, with a single table and chair, a washbasin, and a bed pressed against the wall.

  Eh..No way.

  There’s no fucking way I’m sharing a bed with this asshole.

  Is that what he wants? He wants to…My stomach twists, my safety becoming a concern as I put my situation into words. I am locked in a room with a man. A man twice the size of me. Twice the size!!

  However, Caspian doesn’t seem to care. He sets the plate of food down, then throws down his cloak and bag. He begins to fully remove his gauntlets from his arms, once done, his hands then move to his sword belt, unbuckling it and setting it aside on the table. My breaths get heavy, scenarios rushing through my mind, each one worse than the other. He controls his every movement, as if this arrangement doesn’t bother him in the slightest, just as though he was carrying out another duty.

  I awkwardly stand in the middle of the room, my arms tightening over my chest, nervous for whatever might happen next.

  “You take the bed.” Caspian says, voice flat, as he pulls the chair from the corner of the room. “I’ll rest here.” That’s it? I release a breath I didn’t even realise I was holding.

  I don’t argue. My nerves are wrong and that’s all that matters.

  I glance at the chair, it’s sturdy but nothing close to comfortable. Good. I stay still in the middle of the room, idling myself by watching my feet shuffle on the wood floor. I hear Caspian let out an exasperated sigh, walking over to the table. I peer up at him, and watch as he breaks off a piece of bread from the plate and hands it to me.

  I stare at it with an awkward expression, clearly uncomfortable at this situation.

  “You need to eat.” He says calmly, trying to ease me.

  Caspian exhales through his nose, clearly done with my defiance. With an annoyed expression, he puts the bread in his mouth and walks past me, pulling at the buckles of outer armour. A knock suddenly cuts the silence, and Caspian walks to the door.

  “My lord, your hot water.” A beautiful older woman in an old grecian attire, balancing a porcelain bowl, enters, putting the bowl on the table.

  “Rest now, you’ve done more than enough.” The woman smiles at Caspian’s words, putting a hand to her heart as she bows to him. She leaves without another word, and Caspian closes the door behind her, moving back to the table. He takes off the rest of his armour, and that’s when I see it. His tunic sleeve is stained with a deep red, blood seeping through the fabric. My breath catches.

  Oh my…I thought Caspian had received a graze off the beast in the field. But the way the crimson spreads against the cloth…That’s no small wound.

  Caspian hears the involuntary gasp I let out.

  “Go to bed.” He commands, turning his head slightly in my direction.

  I swallow hard. I don’t want to listen to him, but his tone leaves me little choice. Without a word, I move to the bed. The mattress creaks slightly as I lower myself onto it, my muscles instantly relaxing. I slip my shoes off, and place them beside the bed.

  I shuffle myself under the covers, keeping myself as close to the wall as possible. I turn to face the wall, curling my knees up, the need to sleep washing over me..

  The soft sound of fabric ruffling, breaks my concentration. I slowly peel the covers away from my face and peek over my shoulder.

  The narrative has been taken without permission. Report any sightings.

  Caspian stands by the table with his back turned from me, pulling his tunic over his head. Woah…

  The dim candle light flickers against his bare skin, revealing a mass of black celtic markings sprawled across his skin. The design is intricate, and purposely placed to highlight the lines of his muscles. The light accentuates the ridges of his large muscles as he shifts himself to assess his wound. My gaze follows his hands as they move to his wound, and I bite my lip at the extent of it. Three, long, deep gashes stretch along his side, dark with dried blood. As he shifts, fresh crimson weeps from the torn flesh.

  Caspian doesn’t react to the injury, dipping the cloth into the water and holding it against his side.

  “Go to sleep, Genevieve.” I flinch from being caught, my face heating up, I pull the covers over my face and turn back to the wall. A dim glow lights up the room momentarily.

  Magic…

  I hear cloth rustling once more, then the soft scrape of wood as Caspian moves into the chair.

  There's a long exhale, then silence. But I know he’s still awake, staring at me.

  I try to ignore his presence, my eyes growing heavier as my exhaustion multiplies. I close my eyes, letting sleep wash over me. Refusing to acknowledge Caspian’s stern eye watching over the room so I don’t escape.

  cxxx{}::::::::::::::::::::::::::::>

  I wake up to silence. For a moment I forget where I am, until I shift and the unfamiliar feel of the blanket reminds me. The tavern.

  Caspian.

  I snap my eyes open, turning my head to see if he’s woken up yet.

  He’s still there.

  His posture is rigid, his forearms resting on his knees and his head tilted downwards. His sword placed against the chair for quick access.

  He looks asleep…

  A curt smile spreads across my face. I slowly push the blanket off me and with careful movements, I swing myself off the bed. Slipping my shoes one, I stand avoiding the creaks in the floorboards. Still asleep…

  My heart pounds as I take a step towards the door. I suck in a breath as I try to walk past Caspian, my heartbeat hammering in my ears. I see the door handle within reach, I take another step-

  A hand appears in front of me.

  I freeze.

  My stomach drops as I slowly turn my head down to the broad hand blocking my path. I follow the arm to Caspian’s face. His head is still tilted downwards, but through his hair I can see his eyes sharp and alert, glaring at me. He doesn’t look surprised however, he knows I was going to try this.

  “Where?” His voice is deep from waking up. “Exactly-” He slowly lifts his head, meeting my eyes, his gaze powerful with authority. “-do you think you’re going?”

  My mind draws a blank, my ability to speak becomes a fumbling mess of ‘uhh’s and ‘well-’s. The air between us grows thick and heavy, and Caspian raises a brow to me, wanting an answer. I just scowl at him, keeping my silence, and take a step back.

  Caspian doesn’t press further, his eyes scan me from head to toe before looking away and getting up. Stretching as he walks to the table, he puts on his armour facing me. I don’t watch, keeping my gaze to the wall until he’s ready. He walks over to the chair, holding his cloak, and picks up his carved sword, putting it in his belt before walking to the door.

  “Let's eat.” He prompts me by holding the door open.

  We make it to the tavern’s main hall, filled with hums and quiet movements. A small population of the village’s patrons fill the tiny hall, eating their breakfast and conversing their trade. Entering the hall, the men in the room turn their gaze to Caspian. In an instant they all stand, saluting with a fist to their hearts. Caspian doesn’t react, instead walking to a free table and pulling a chair out for me before sitting in his own. He doesn’t tell me to follow, knowing he doesn’t need to. He knows I will. What other choice do I have?

  Walking to the table, I sit in the chair he pulled out for me.

  A man then walks up to Caspian, his fist to his heart.

  “My lord, by the Gods you’ve returned safely.” The man hesitates for a moment, before continuing to speak. “Has there been any progression in the trade routes?”

  Caspian takes a breath, inclining his head towards the man, with an unreadable expression on his face. “No change.” For a brief moment, Caspian’s gaze darkens, something tense and unrelenting settling on his face.

  “I’m due elsewhere, my friend. I hope this will be the last time.” The villager’s face scrunches, his jaw ticks, his anger seething below his expression.

  “That bastard king! He may want us to fucking wither, but we’ll hold strong!” His motives are strong, unshaken by the tyrant.He reassures Caspian that in his absence his people can still live, not without strain, but live.

  “We might as well…Cut down the old sod.” The man mutters, enraged by the corruption of the rulers.

  Caspian puts a firm hand on the man’s arm, bringing him down to a more reasonable state.

  “Be careful friend, your heart may speak true but your words are treason.” The man seems hypnotised by Caspian’s words. Calming himself, he gives Caspian a reluctant nod. The fire in his eyes is still burning, but he acknowledges that everyone is suffering. Even Caspian. But doing rash actions will only make things worse.

  I lose myself in thought at the exchange. The king cut off trade routes to Caspian’s county? Why? Why would you kill your people? Even if it’s something to do with Caspian’s reputation, these are the king’s people too? It doesn’t make sense.

  The man salutes Caspian again, before leaving the table. Caspian calls over a barmaid asking for food, and before too long she brings out two plates of meats, cheese and bread. Is this just the standard meal choice?

  Caspian cuts into the bread, spreading the soft cheese over it with a knife. He watches me pick at the dull plate, and exhales.

  “Eat.” He holds out the bread in front of me.

  I look up to him to just look back on my plate, to shuffle the bread in place.

  “I’m not hungry.” I mutter.

  Caspian exhales through his nose, setting down the knife on the table. Turning his full attention onto me. “You didn’t eat last night either.” He tilts his head to get my gaze to him. “I don’t mean to have you starve.”

  He reaches over the table and pushes my plate closer to me.

  “Eat.” He says in a softer tone.

  I want to fight back, but my hunger overrules my attitude. I don’t take his offering, instead compiling my own basic meal. Caspian lets out a huff, but continues to eat, not pressing the matter.

  We continue to eat in an awkward silence, until heavy footsteps descend the stairs. It’s Sir Leiman and the other high command, already dressed and cloaks fastened. They don’t sit, instead wait for us to finish.

  Caspian picks up a cloth and wipes his hands, putting it back on the table and stands in one fluid motion. He picks up his cloak and nods to his men.

  “It’s time to go.” He offers a hand for me to stand with, I unconsciously take it, wiping my hands on my dress.

  The officers barely notice me, knowing I’m Caspian’s problem to deal with. A task. Nothing more.

  Unease settles in my chest again.

  Next stop, Caspian’s home. The place where I’ll find the reason he’s kept me hostage…