The night was heavy with silence, broken only by the distant hoot of an owl beyond the castle walls. Caedmon sat in his chamber, the firelight casting long shadows across the stone. His most trusted companion, Sir Edric—the knight who had trained beside him since boyhood—leaned against the window ledge, watching his prince wrestle with words.
"You pace like a caged beast, my lord," Edric said quietly.
Caedmon stopped and turned. "Because I am caged. Not by walls, but by blood. My brother claims everything, and I… I am expected to smile and bow." His voice trembled, not with weakness but with suppressed fury.
Edric frowned. "This is more than envy. What troubles you, truly?"
Caedmon's gaze dropped, his hands tightening into fists. "Elswyth. I cannot banish her from my thoughts. I love her, Edric. Not as princes speak of love, as possession or conquest. I love her as a man drowning loves the air."
The knight stiffened, knowing the danger of such words. "My prince… if your brother knew—"
"He not," Caedmon interrupted sharply. "I would sooner face an army alone than his wrath. But what am I to do? Watch her chained to him while my heart burns in silence?"
Edric placed a hand on his shoulder. "Then you must decide, my lord. Love her in shadows and bear the torment… or fight for her, even if it means war with your own blood."
Caedmon turned back to the fire, the flames reflecting in his eyes. For the first time, he allowed himself to imagine a future where he defied his brother, where love was worth betrayal. The thought both terrified and thrilled him.
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