Episode 3: The One I Chose
Spring came gently to the village—carried on the wind like the memory of warmth.
Eva stood in the garden behind the herb shop, her hands stained with soil, her hair loose around her shoulders. The sun fell in golden slants between the leaves. She'd learned to grow things. Herbs. Roots. Even flowers.
Kyel passed by often. Sometimes with bread. Sometimes with silence.
And over time, silence turned into comfort.
They talked. Laughed. Shared meals. Shared nothing… and everything.
---
One morning, she found a handmade charm left on her doorstep.
A small wolf carved from wood. Clumsy, uneven.
But it made her smile.
She didn't ask if it was Kyel.
And he didn't say anything when he saw it hanging in her window.
---
Some days, he'd stay longer. Fix her fence. Sharpen her tools. Talk about the weather or the way birds nested by the riverside.
He never asked about her past.
She never asked about his.
But somehow, their silences understood each other.
---
They walked home together one evening, after a small village gathering. Fireflies floated in the dusk. Children laughed in the distance. The air smelled of pine and smoke.
Eva didn't notice when her hand brushed his.
He did.
But he didn't pull away.
"Kyel," she said softly. "You've never asked me where I'm from."
"I figured you'd tell me if you wanted to."
She looked at him, heart thudding.
"What if I told you... I wasn't someone worth loving?" she whispered.
He stopped walking.
"You're not," he said quietly.
Her throat tightened—until she saw his smile.
"You're someone worth choosing."
---
They didn't kiss that night. Not yet. But something shifted.
And from that day on, the space between them slowly vanished.
---
One rainy afternoon, Eva looked up from the stew she was cooking and said, casually:
"Marry me."
Kyel blinked. "What?"
"I said marry me," she repeated. "Before I change my mind."
"You're joking."
"I'm not."
She turned back to the pot, stirring. "I'm not waiting for fate anymore. Not for a man to claim me. I want a choice that's mine."
He said nothing at first.
Then:
"I don't have a ring."
"Then carve me another wooden wolf."
Kyel laughed—a sound so rare, she turned around just to hear it again.
"I will," he said. "I'll carve you a thousand."
---
They married the next week.
No witnesses. No ceremony. Just a quiet promise under the trees, hands wrapped in a simple ribbon, and the scent of earth between them.
Eva didn't cry.
But when he held her, she felt something inside her begin to heal.
"This isn't the life I dreamed of," she thought. "But it's the life I want."
And from that night forward, Kyel began to call her princess.
Not mockingly.
Not like a title.
But like a truth only he saw in her.
---
🕯️ Wedding Night
The candles flickered low. Rain whispered outside the window.
Eva sat on the edge of their small bed, dressed in soft white linen, her fingers clenched tightly in her lap. Kyel stood beside her, his expression calm, reverent—never demanding.
"I've never had anything like this," he said softly. "But I know one thing…"
He knelt before her, took her trembling hand, and kissed her palm.
"You're my princess," he said.
Her heart ached at the word. It didn't feel like a name—it felt like safety.
He leaned in, slow, careful. His breath ghosted across her lips.
And then—
A flash.
A hand that wasn't his.
A dark room. A voice. A man twice her age pressing too close, whispering things she was too young to hear.
Fifteen.
Trapped.
Afraid.
She gasped, eyes wide. "Wait—!"
Kyel stopped instantly, his arms still open but not touching her.
Eva stumbled back, clutching her arms as her breath quickened. The memory felt too close. Too sharp.
"I'm sorry," she whispered. "I—I thought I could do this."
Kyel said nothing at first. He just stepped back, slowly, and reached for the blanket, draping it around her shoulders like a shield.
"You don't need to be sorry," he said, voice low. "Not with me."
She bit her lip. "You must think I'm broken…"
He shook his head.
"I think you're strong."
He didn't press. Didn't question.
Just stayed by her side, silent and steady.
And that night, Eva didn't give him her body.
But she gave him her trust.