The following morning, I awoke with a Mission.
Elias needs a token. Something to remind him that I, Princess Charlotte, am depending on him.
Of course, a good princess does not just give a token to a boy. That would be far too straightforward. Too clear. Much too... ordinary.
No, it has to be a secret. A mystery. A drama.
I needed counsel.
I marched directly into the Queen's solar, where Mother was sipping tea and pretending to listen to her ladies-in-waiting bicker over lace trimmings.
"Mother," I announced, sweeping into a low bow because, naturally, drama is key when you're trying to get something. "I need your counsel."
Her eyes sparkled with amusement. "A rare and perilous request. Go on."
"I need to give someone a token," I whispered loudly, making dramatic eye movements around the room. "But I don't want them to know it's from me. How would you do it?"
The Queen leaned back, her jeweled hands folded under her chin. "Anonymous presents are an art, darling. If you want it to be a secret, employ misdirection. Make it seem as though fate herself has sent it. A riddle wrapped in a touch of mischief."
I grinned. That sounded perfect.
But, to cover all bases, I proceeded next to the King's study.
Father was buried under a mountain of papers, frowning as though taxes were a personal insult.
"Father," I announced, causing three advisors to jump and sending a container of ink flying, "I need advice."
He pinched the bridge of his nose. "What is it, Charlotte?"
"If you wanted to make someone strong and devoted to you for life," I asked, hands folded behind my back, "what would you give them?"
The King snorted. "A good sword. And a kick in the backside."
I considered this seriously. "Both, you think?"
He looked up then, his face softening just a touch. "Sometimes, daughter, all a man needs is to know someone believes in him."
I felt like I'd been entrusted with a vital royal secret after leaving the study. (And yes, my shoes were now faintly marked with ink, but that was a problem for another time.)
The Plan: Operation Token of Destiny
By afternoon, with Whiskers keeping watch from atop a stack of pilfered embroidery pillows, I set to work.
I made a little badge from blue velvet and silver embroidery floss—roughly stitched but filled with purpose. In the middle, I stitched a very shaky crown. On the outer edge, in minuscule letters, I sewed: To the one who guards the crown.
It wasn't beautiful. It wasn't even that good. But it was mine.
I rolled it up in parchment, sealed it with wax (which I may or may not have "borrowed" from my desk without asking), and labeled it:
The Knight of Tomorrow.
No signature. No hint. Just the badge and a message:
"Strength comes not only from the sword, but from the heart. Remember who you fight for."
And, with Whiskers nodding in approval, I bribed a palace page with three biscuits and a smile to sneak it into Elias's training satchel.
Later that night, looking out my window, I saw Elias discover it.
He scowled at the package, opened it carefully, and stared.
For a moment, he just sat there, holding the badge in his palm, completely still. Then, slowly, he smiled—a rare, genuine smile that lit up his entire face and made my heart do something peculiar in my chest.
He tucked the badge deep into the inside of his tunic, as though it were his most treasured possession.
I rested against the window sill, feeling something warm and hot rise inside me.
He didn't know it was from me.
But one day, he would.
And until then, he would continue to fight. He would continue to grow stronger.
All because of a small, hidden piece of me sewn into the fabric of his dreams.