Life in the palace was simply lovely. Days blazed by in a haze of lessons, mischief, and tea parties that were the perfect degree of absurd. I had finally persuaded the palace chefs to let me help with a new batch of pastries. (They were dreadful, but they were mine, and that was what counted.) My horsemanship had improved to the point where I could—nearly—ride without fear of throwing myself off the horse. Whiskers had grown accustomed to tagging along behind me, everywhere. And, naturally, Elias remained my ever-faithful friend and advisor.
But, as usual, the royal family had a little more on their minds than pastries and horses.
"You're being so dramatic," I announced one night, sweeping a hand across the air as I interrupted my parents' tense discussion. "The royal court is practically burning down, and yet you're still insisting I stay in my chambers for 'private lessons' and 'proper etiquette.' What's the matter with you?"
"Charlotte," said the King, not raising his head from the pile of maps in front of him. "This isn't something for you."
"Why not?" I asked, leaning in the doorway to their study, arms crossed. "Why can't I be told what's happening? I'm nearly grown now—don't talk to me like I'm some silly little girl!"
The Queen's lips curled, but she remained silent for a long while. Her gaze flicked to the King before settling back on me. "It's not something you need to worry about, dear. We're taking care of it."
"Taking care of what?" I pressed. "I'm not stupid. The guards are doubling up. The corridors are full of whispers." I glanced at the maps sprawled on the table. "Is there… is there war brewing?"
My parents said nothing. It was answer enough. I could already hear the soldiers training, the hushed conversations of generals behind closed doors. I wasn't naive. I knew something was happening—something they didn't want me involved in. My stomach twisted with concern, but I refused to show it.
Later that evening, Elias came to visit me in my quarters. I sat by the window, staring out into the darkness, my mind heavy with the tension in the air. He knocked gently before entering, his expression unreadable. He'd recently turned sixteen, and the change was striking. Taller, thinner, quieter.
"Charlotte," he said, his voice more serious than I was used to hearing. "I need to talk to you."
I turned to him, raising an eyebrow. "What for?"
He paused for a moment before stepping closer. "I'm being deployed to the front lines."
My heart stopped. "What? You? Elias, no…"
He nodded, his jaw clenched. "It's… it's the King's decision. They need me. They believe I'm ready." His eyes flickered away, betraying the terror he was trying to hide. "I leave tomorrow."
"No." I stood quickly, my chair scraping loudly against the floor as I rushed toward him. "This is madness! You can't—I won't allow it!"
Elias took a step back, his eyes hardening. The intensity in his gaze made my stomach twist. "I have no choice. You know that. The kingdom is short on manpower. And I—well, I must do my duty."
I shook my head, heart pounding. "This isn't right. I'm not going to just sit here and—" I caught myself, realizing I wasn't alone in my thoughts. Elias's calm eyes spoke volumes—there was a depth of determination in him I couldn't ignore. "Elias, please," I whispered, more to myself than to him.
"I'll return," he said softly, but with unshakable resolve. "I swear."
But vows, I knew, could be broken.
The next morning, I stood on the balcony of the palace, watching as Elias departed. Seeing him walk toward the waiting carriage, clad in armor, his back straight and shoulders squared—was like a punch to my chest. All I could do was stand there, helpless, as he grew smaller and smaller, a distant speck on the horizon.
And in that moment, I realized the truth: war wasn't something distant or abstract anymore. It was already knocking on our door. And this time, I couldn't pretend to be a child, not when someone I loved was walking straight into danger.
As the royal flags whipped in the breeze and the sounds of the soldiers grew louder in the distance, I made a silent oath to myself. I would do whatever it took to keep those I loved safe. And that meant no more games. No more mischief. Because everything I knew hung in the balance.