Since returning to the palace, Prince Caspian had been endlessly busy. Reports, war councils, formal greetings and everything demanded his attention. Yet despite it all, the girl with the white hair refused to leave his mind.
Who is she? Why was she there? Is she even from this kingdom?
These questions played in his mind over and over again, like a restless bird. More than once, he had nearly ordered the guards to search the whole town for her. But each time, the memory of her frightened eyes stopped him. She had looked like someone desperately trying to remain unseen, like someone running from the world. There had to be a reason she hid her identity.
Her hair… white like snow beneath moonlight. Stranger. Unnatural. Almost magical. Something that did not belong in the open world.
"White hair, huh…: he murmured, leaning back in his chair at last. But the moment he closed his eyes, the memory resurfaced again.
From atop his horse, he could see the entire crowd. And her. She had been the only one avoiding attention, her movements tight and cautious. Suspicious. Clutching her cloak too tightly, her head lowered as if she feared the air itself. He had watched her from a distance, prepared to act if needed. Then she suddenly collided with Daeron.
Her hood slipped.
Her face had been pale as porcelain. Her eyes wide with fear, as something was hunting her. She looked so lost. So breakable. In that heartbeat, Caspsian's thoughts changed completely. She didn't look like a threat.
He expected danger. Instead, he saw a girl who looked like she needed help.
"Your highness, His Majesty requests your presence in his reading room.," the butler announced from the doorway. Caspian sighed, pushing those thoughts aside. "Very well."
—
"I'm glad you returned safely," King Vallar said the moment Caspian entered.
"I'm glad to finally be home," Caspian replied politely.
The King began listing strategic victories and political matters, but Caspian's thoughts slipped away again back to pale skin, frightened eyes, and snow-white hair. His father's voice became a distant echo beneath the steady rhythm of his thoughts.
"Are you even listening to me?" King Vallar snapped.
Caspian blinked back into reality. "I'm sorry, what was that?"
King Vallar exhaled sharply. "I said I'm arranging a marriage between you and Princess Zetian of the East Kingdom."
"What? Marriage?"
"Yes, it is time—"
"No." The word slipped out before he could stop it. "I'm not looking for marriage. It's… too soon,"
King Vallar slammed his hand onto the desk. "Then hurry and give me an heir! You will not live freely forever. You have a duty to this kingdom! Stop thinking of war and start thinking of the throne!" The King roared.
Caspian clenched his jaw, annoyance flooding in. He turned and walked out.
"Did you hear me?! Caspian!" His father shouted after him. He closed the door. "That stubborn old man," he muttered under his breath.
Then he made his way to the one place in the palace that still felt like home. His mother's chamber. "Hello, Mother. I've returned," he said softly.
"My sweet boy." Queen Lilian opened her arms, and he stepped into them without hesitation. For a moment, the world grew quiet. Only his mother ever made him feel like a child again; safe, seen, understood. The only soul in the palace he trusted completely.
"You haven't even washed yet?" she teased gently, smiling. He gave a small, embarrassed nod. Her expression softened. She studied him closely.
"Something troubles you."
He looked away. "It's nothing."
"Really?" She asked, her voice warm but knowing. She tilted her head. She knew her son better than anyone alive. Silence answered for him. They spoke about small things at first. Then, just as he was about to leave, he paused.
"Mother… Do you know of anyone in the kingdom with white hair?" Her eyes sharpened slightly. "White hair?" She repeated.
He nodded.
"That is rare. The last time I heard of such a thing was years ago," she said, sitting gracefully on the couch. Caspian sat across from her, listening intently. "White hair is said to belong to witches," She spoke the word softly. "Though witches should no longer exist," she continued. "Your father already had them eliminated twenty years ago… if I'm not mistaken,"
Her gaze lingered on him. "Did you see one?"
He hesitated. "...No. Only stories from the battlefield."
"I see." She paused. "Be careful with witches. They can be dangerous. But not all of them are monsters." Her eyes softened, as if she already knew the truth he tried to hide. "And don't let this reach your father. He would not hesitate."
Caspian swallowed. He knew that.
"I should go. I'll visit you often," he said, rising. "I'll always be here," Queen Lilian replied with a gentle smile.
But as he left her chambers, only one thought lingered in his heart.
White hair… a witch… and a frightened girl in the crowd.
If she truly was a witch. She was already in danger.
___
His mind still wandered back to her, frightened and far too innocent for a world like his. In his world, blood often splashed across his skin, battles stained the earth red, and kingdoms were meant to be conquered. Someone like her didn't belong anywhere near that life.
And the thought that his father might discover her or might see her as something disposable, made an uneasy tightness form in his chest. It pushed him, urging him to find her before anyone else did.
The cold-blooded prince, who had long forgotten what warmth felt like, realized something inside him had shifted. A warmth spread slowly through the ice that had hardened his heart since the war. All because of a girl who didn't even know he had been watching her… a girl who didn't know she had melted something frozen deep inside him.
"I have to find her," he murmured.
He lifted his gaze to the moon. It shone brighter than usual, silver light spilling across the quiet night as if even the sky was listening.