Chapter 12: Sunday Surprises

Sunday arrived, cloaked in a pristine layer of freshly fallen snow, the sunlight a silvery whisper through the frosted windows of the palace. Even amidst the hushed grandeur of his chambers, Caspian found himself strangely restless. He'd spent the morning reviewing trade agreements, his mind diligently focused on clauses and tariffs, yet a rogue thought, a persistent whisper of anticipation, kept intruding on his concentration.

He caught himself sketching a strawberry on the margins of an important document, the image a stark contrast to the formal script surrounding it. A self-deprecating sigh escaped his lips. This was unlike him, this uncharacteristic impatience, this… fascination with a strawberry vendor, of all things.

"Perhaps a walk is in order," he muttered to himself, setting aside his quill. He needed fresh air, a change of scenery, a distraction from the persistent image of sun-kissed strawberries and a certain vendor's disarming smile.

Pulling on his warmest cloak, the one lined with fur from the elusive Snowfox, he ventured out into the palace gardens. The air was crisp and clean, invigorating, yet it did little to quell the strange anticipation that thrummed through him.

He found himself drawn to the palace stables, a place he rarely frequented. The scent of hay and leather, the gentle whickering of the royal steeds – usually a calming symphony – did little to soothe his restless spirit.

His eyes fell on Stardust, his steed, a magnificent creature with a coat as white as the surrounding snow and eyes that glinted like sapphire ice. A sudden, impulsive thought struck him. Why not? It was a fine day for a ride, even if the destination wasn't the usual training grounds or diplomatic visit.

"Saddle Stardust," he instructed the surprised stable master, his voice firm, brooking no argument. "And ready the closed carriage." A faint blush warmed his cheeks as he added, "I'm visiting… a local merchant."

The journey to the capital market was swifter and more exhilarating than Caspian had anticipated. Stardust, as if sensing his rider's unusual excitement, moved with a grace and speed that belied the winter chill. As the familiar sights and sounds of the bustling market came into view, a peculiar mix of apprehension and anticipation tightened Caspian's chest.

He'd instructed the carriage to wait a discreet distance away, choosing to approach Sonne's stall on foot. As he neared The Berry Basket, his heart pounded a staccato rhythm against his ribs. He could spot the familiar figure of the lanky vendor, but… there was no sign of Sonne.

Disappointment, sharp and unexpected, pricked at him. He chided himself for his foolishness. Why would he expect anything different? It was just a whim, after all, a silly, impulsive decision to visit a strawberry stall on a day when the vendor was unlikely to be there. He was being ridiculous, letting his curiosity get the better of him.

Caspian approached the familiar stall, "The Berry Basket." It was busy, as usual, an indication of the quality of Sonne's strawberries, even in his absence. The lanky, middle-aged vendor who usually manned the stall was expertly handling a queue of eager customers.

"Good morning," Caspian greeted, his voice a touch crisper than intended. He drew a few curious glances; a prince wasn't an everyday sight at a fruit vendor's stall, even one as popular as this.

"Your Highness!" The vendor bobbed a surprised bow, nearly upsetting a basket of glistening berries. "What an unexpected honor! I see you're back for more of Master Sonne's strawberries. Excellent choice! Though, he did step out for a quick bite. Should be back any moment, if you wouldn't mind waiting?"

"Away for breakfast?" Caspian echoed, unable to keep a hint of dryness from his tone. Was it truly coincidence, or did this Sonne Dial have a knack for evading him? He had half-expected to find the stall unattended, confirming his suspicions that he'd been misled. This unexpected turn of events, however, was… intriguing. "Very well," he conceded, schooling his features into an impassive mask.

"Perhaps I shall browse for a while." His gaze swept over the vibrant crimson mounds of strawberries, a hint of amusement flickering in his sapphire eyes. It seemed his quarry wasn't as elusive as he'd thought. The game, it appeared, was afoot.

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A savory aroma, alien yet oddly enticing, wafted through the air, reaching Caspian just as he was about to feign impatience and make his excuses. He turned, an eyebrow arched in inquiry, just as a figure sauntered into view, a box held aloft like a prize.

"Hey, Rick, breakfast's here~"

The vendor, Rick, chuckled and rubbed his hands together. "About time, Sonne! You know I can't resist that cheesy goodness."

Caspian's gaze sweeps over the newcomer with an intensity he rarely allowed to surface. He was… different than expected. Gone was the refined attire from the gala. This Sonne wore a simple white shirt and dark pants tucked into short boots, the garb of a commoner, yet he wore them with a confidence that belied his station.

Caspian watched, a flicker of something akin to amusement dancing in his sapphire eyes, as Sonne set down the box and theatrically opened it, revealing a thick-crusted pizza oozing with melted cheese and studded with chunks of ham. It was hardly the breakfast of a nobleman, yet… there was an undeniable appeal in the sheer unabashed enjoyment with which Sonne presented this simple meal. He couldn't help but find himself drawn to the scene, a stark contrast to the formality of his own palace life. This Sonne Dial was full of surprises, it seemed. Interesting. Very interesting.

His gaze lingered on Sonne a moment longer than necessary, a hint of a smile playing at the corner of his lips.

"That does look rather tempting," he remarked, his voice carrying a hint of amusement, ensuring he caught Sonne's attention. "Though, I must confess, I haven't had the pleasure of encountering such a… hearty breakfast before."

Sonne's gaze lifted at the sound of Caspian's voice, a slow smile spreading across his face as he recognized the prince from their previous encounters. He took in the sight of Caspian, his fine cloak a stark contrast to the lively market around them. "Why, hello there your highness," Sonne said with amusement while bowing a little, a gesture of playful respect.

He carefully selected a slice, the cheese stretching invitingly, and offered it to Caspian. "Pizza?" he asked, his tone a tempting invitation.

A flicker of surprise crossed Caspian's face, his cheeks flushing with unexpected pink at the offer. After all, he was a prince, accustomed to extending invitations, not receiving them from vendors, no matter how attractive they might be. He glanced around, acutely aware of the curious gazes of the other vendors and lingering customers. Accepting food from a commoner, especially in such a public setting, was hardly befitting of his station. Yet, the aroma of melted cheese and baking dough was incredibly tempting, and Sonne's open expression held a sincerity that was hard to resist.

"That's… very kind of you," Caspian finally responded, his voice carefully neutral, betraying none of his inner turmoil. "But I wouldn't want to deprive you." He gestured to the box, his gloved fingers brushing lightly against Sonne's hand in a fleeting gesture that sent a surprising jolt through him. He quickly withdrew his hand, hoping the blush creeping up his neck wasn't as noticeable as he feared.

"Perhaps," he added, a hint of genuine curiosity entering his voice, "you could tell me more about this… pizza? I confess, it's not a dish familiar to the palace kitchens." He tilted his head, a hint of a smile playing at the corner of his lips.

"Okay, more for us. Rick," Sonne shrugged casually as he turned to Rick. Caspian watched, a flicker of amusement in his sapphire eyes, as Sonne handed the slice of pizza to the vendor, Rick, instead. It was a surprisingly selfless act, especially considering how proudly Sonne had presented his breakfast.

"You've never had pizza?" Sonne then questioned incredulously, taking a noisy bite of his own slice. Crumbs tumbled onto the snow-dusted wooden planks of his stall, and he brushed them away with a careless hand, entirely unconcerned with the flecks of cheese clinging to his fingers. "You are missing a lot in your life," he declared between bites, his tone playful yet sincere.

The prince fought back a sigh. This exchange was absurd, utterly ridiculous. Here he was, a prince of the Snowfall Kingdom, famed for its elegance and refinement, being lectured on the merits of a commoner's food by a man who seemed not to notice, or perhaps not to care, about the amused glances they were gathering. Yet, he felt oddly drawn to Sonne's unpretentious manner, his genuine enthusiasm for something as simple as pizza. It was a refreshing change from the calculated pleasantries and veiled intentions of the court.

"Perhaps you could enlighten me, then?" Caspian countered, allowing a hint of amusement to color his tone. He crossed his arms, his fur-lined cloak shifting around him. "Tell me, Sonne Dial, what is it about this 'pizza' that makes it so indispensable to life?" His gaze met Sonne's, a silent challenge in the depths of his sapphire eyes.

"It's about the cheese," Sonne declared, nodding sagely as if imparting a universal truth. "And maybe the ham," he added as an afterthought, taking another bite, "but definitely the cheese."

Caspian watched him, a ghost of a smile playing on his lips. Sonne's conviction, coupled with the sheer unselfconscious enjoyment with which he devoured the pizza, was strangely endearing. Most people, especially those of Sonne's seemingly common birth, were careful to show the proper deference to a prince, their every word and gesture measured. Sonne, on the other hand, seemed entirely unconcerned with such formalities. He spoke his mind, crumbs and all, and there was a refreshing honesty to it that Caspian found oddly appealing.

A sudden, impulsive thought struck Caspian. He was, after all, a prince of Snowfall, and he was used to getting what he wanted.

"A persuasive argument," he conceded, his tone laced with a playful challenge. "However, I'm afraid I'll have to judge for myself." He turned to the vendor, Rick, who was watching the exchange with a mixture of amusement and bewilderment. "Tell me, good sir," Caspian inquired, his voice regaining its usual regal smoothness, "Can I have a slice of this… pizza? I find that my curiosity has been piqued."

Sonne and Rick looked at each other for a moment, mid-bite, before Sonne took the pizza box and handed it over to Caspian.

A wave of surprised murmurs rippled through the nearby market stalls as Prince Caspian, second in line to the throne of Snowfall, accepted the pizza box from Sonne's outstretched hand. A prince, indulging in a commoner's food, in the middle of the crowded market? It was unheard of, a spectacle that had everyone, vendors and customers alike, pausing in their transactions to steal curious glances.

"You can have a slice or two," Sonne had said, his tone nonchalant despite the fact that he was essentially handing over his breakfast to royalty. There was a mischievous twinkle in his eye, as if he knew the effect his actions had, yet he remained as carefree and unfazed as ever.

Caspian, for his part, hid his initial surprise behind his princely composure. After all, he had spent years honing his public persona, learning to navigate the intricacies of courtly etiquette. Yet there was a flicker of something akin to delight in his sapphire eyes, a hint of boyish rebellion that peeked through his regal facade as he surveyed the cheesy pizza. Could this be a side of him, a love for the unexpected and unconventional, that his royal upbringing had kept hidden?

He selected a slice, holding it with an almost comical delicacy as he examined the stringy cheese and generous scattering of ham. There was a sense of anticipation in the air, a shared moment of absurdity that transcended their differences in station. The market, usually abuzz with the cacophony of commerce, seemed to hold its breath, every eye on the prince as he raised the pizza to his lips and took a bite.

The once lively marketplace fell into a hushed silence, the usual clamor of bartering and gossip fading. All eyes were on Prince Caspian, his normally impassive features softened in a look of surprised delight as the flavors of the pizza hit his palate. It was an unexpected explosion of savory and salty, the tang of the cheese blending perfectly with the savory ham and the crisp bite of the crust. It was unlike anything he had ever tasted within the refined walls of the palace kitchens, and yet, there was a simple honesty to the flavors, a comforting warmth that spread through him with each bite.

He had expected something… coarser, perhaps, something befitting its common origins. Instead, he found himself completely disarmed, captivated not just by the unique taste but also by the sheer audacity of Sonne's gesture. Here he was, a prince of Snowfall, indulging in street food like a commoner, and it was all because of this strawberry vendor who seemed to defy all expectations.

Caspian swallowed, his gaze meeting Sonne's across the remnants of the pizza. "This is…" he began, struggling to find the right words, his usual eloquence failing him in the face of such unrefined deliciousness. He settled for a simple, "This is surprisingly good."

A smirk spread across Sonne's face. "Told you," he said, his voice laced with a smug satisfaction that was utterly endearing. "Best pizza in the capital, if I do say so myself." He winked, a playful glint in his eye. "Glad to see even a prince has good taste."

A wave of warmth, completely separate from the lingering heat of the pizza, spread through Caspian's chest. He had been the subject of countless flattering remarks and veiled compliments during his time as a prince, but there was something about the genuine amusement and unfiltered honesty in Sonne's tone that struck a chord within him, something that resonated far more deeply than any eloquent or flattering words ever could.

A slow smile spread across Caspian's face, a hint of genuine amusement touching his sapphire eyes. "Indeed," he conceded, surprising even himself with his easy agreement. It was a side of him, a willingness to let go of courtly pretenses, that he had almost forgotten he possessed.

He finished the slice of pizza, brushing a stray crumb from his glove with a meticulousness that belied his recent indulgence. "Perhaps," he mused aloud, his gaze meeting Sonne's, "a diplomatic visit to this renowned pizza establishment is in order. Accompanied, of course, by the esteemed purveyor of its delights."

The invitation hung in the air, a tantalizing proposition cloaked in the elegant formality of courtly language. It was a game, of course, a delicate dance between two individuals from vastly different worlds. And yet, as Caspian watched the play of emotions across Sonne's face – surprise, amusement, and a flicker of something that looked suspiciously like intrigue – he couldn't shake the feeling that this unlikely chance encounter with a commoner's pizza, was just the beginning of a most unexpected adventure.