The table was small—an oval of polished mahogany tucked into one of the palace's inner sunrooms, where the stained glass bathed the walls in deep rose and soft gold. A modest fire crackled in the hearth. No courtiers. No guards in sight, though several stood beyond the doors—handpicked, silent, and alert.
Eladin sat on a velvet cushion far too grand for a boy missing both front teeth. He swung his legs under the table, humming off-key as he attacked a roasted parsnip with an alarming amount of enthusiasm.
Charlotte watched him in silence for a moment.
He was safe—at least for now. And so very small.
"Eladin," she said softly, lifting her spoon. "What would you say if I started having more dinners like this with you?"
He blinked, then beamed. "Does that include more pudding?"
"It includes everything," Charlotte said with a smile. "More stories. More chess. More opportunities to inform the cook that no one truly likes parsnips."
"I like them now," Eladin said solemnly, taking a bite and immediately regretting it. He chewed valiantly.
Charlotte's smile flickered, just slightly. "You know you're very important, don't you?"
He shot her a wary glance. "Is this about the crown again?"
"No," she said gently. "This is about you. I want you to be happy. I want you to play and learn and make mistakes. And I want to make sure you're safe while you do all that."
He furrowed his brow, the way he always did when thinking very hard. "Something bad is going to happen, isn't it?"
Charlotte hesitated. Then she reached across the table and took his small hand in hers.
"No," she said. "Because I won't let it."
He looked down at their hands. "You're so serious lately."
"I have to be," she whispered. "For both of us."
Then, before her voice could tremble, she added with a grin, "But I'm never too serious to forget tradition."
His eyes lit up. "The Spoon Duel?"
Charlotte nodded and turned to the dessert tray. Two perfectly round puddings sat in crystal dishes.
They each lifted a spoon.
"Eladin the Fearless," she announced, aiming hers.
"Charlotte the Very Bossy," he shot back, grinning.
Their spoons clinked.
The duel began.
And for a few precious minutes, beneath the stained glass light, the world beyond the sunroom disappeared—leaving only laughter, pudding, and the invisible ring of protection Charlotte was spinning tighter around her brother than he would ever understand.