Chapter 13: Pizza with a Prince

A hush fell over the crowded marketplace, the usual cacophony of bartering and gossip fading into a stunned silence. All eyes were on Prince Caspian, his silver hair gleaming under the soft morning sun, as he stood before Sonne Dial's strawberry stall. The sight of the prince, not at some royal function but casually enjoying a slice of pizza, was startling enough. But to then hear him propose a… a date with the strawberry merchant? It was almost too much for the gossipmongers of the capital to handle. Discreet whistles and hushed whispers rippled through the crowd, everyone eager to witness how this unexpected encounter would unfold.

Caspian, for his part, remained oblivious to the stir he was causing. He had long grown accustomed to being the center of attention, but at this moment, his focus was solely on the man before him.

Sonne, who had been nonchalantly munching on his pizza, a playful smirk dancing on his lips, swallowed his last bite and brushed his hands together. "I happen to be very free, Your Highness," he replied, his voice smooth as silk. He then nudged Rick, his lanky, middle-aged vendor, with a subtle gesture that spoke volumes – "Keep an eye on the stall." Rick, his face a mixture of bewilderment and amusement, nodded curtly.

Caspian, aware of the stunned silence that had descended upon the marketplace, allowed a ghost of a smile to grace his lips, his gaze never leaving Sonne. "Excellent," he murmured, his voice barely audible above the din of the marketplace. "Lead the way, Master Dial."

With a final nod to the stunned Rick, Sonne led the prince through the crowded marketplace. Caspian moved with an innate grace, his gloved hand casually resting on the pommel of his sword. A strange sense of exhilaration coursed through him, a stark contrast to the usual stiffness of his diplomatic duties. He found himself captivated by Sonne, the way he navigated the crowded stalls with a casual grace, his laughter ringing out as he exchanged banter with the vendors.

Sonne, acutely aware of the prince's presence beside him, snuck glances at Caspian, admiring the way the morning sun glinted off his silver hair, making him look almost ethereal. "The Golden Crust, just a short walk from here," Sonne announced, gesturing grandly towards a nearby lane. "The owner's a friend, and his pizza? A masterpiece."

The pizzeria, tucked away in a quiet corner of the market, was a stark contrast to the bustle outside. The aroma of baking bread and herbs wafted from within, making Caspian's stomach rumble in anticipation.

As they stepped inside, the warmth of the hearth and the inviting aroma enveloped Caspian. It was a far cry from the formal dining halls of his palace, and yet, he found himself strangely at ease. Perhaps it was Sonne's infectious enthusiasm, or maybe it was the promise of another culinary adventure. Whatever the reason, Prince Caspian, the ever-stoic diplomat, found himself looking forward to a simple meal… and the company of the strawberry merchant.

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The Golden Crust, true to its name, was a cozy haven filled with the enticing aroma of baking bread. Sunlight streamed through the windows, illuminating the rough-hewn wooden tables and benches scattered around a roaring hearth. It was a far cry from the opulent dining halls Caspian was accustomed to, yet there was an allure to the pizzeria’s simplicity that he found strangely appealing.

Sonne pulled out a chair for Caspian. "Your Highness," he said, a playful twinkle in his brown eyes, "make yourself comfortable."

Caspian, caught off guard by the gesture, hesitated for a moment before taking his seat. He couldn’t recall the last time someone had pulled out a chair for him. It was a small gesture, yet it spoke volumes about Sonne's easygoing nature, a stark contrast to the fawning attention he usually received from the nobility.

"This is… different," Caspian admitted, his gaze sweeping over the rustic interior.

"Different can be good, Your Highness," Sonne replied, a knowing smile playing on his lips. "Especially when it comes to pizza."

The menu, hand-painted on a wooden board, boasted a surprisingly concise selection: Hawaiian, Garlic and Cheese, Ham and Cheese, and Beef and Pineapple. Sonne, after a moment of contemplation, announced, "I'm still famished. Hawaiian for me, always a classic."

Caspian, unfamiliar with the concept of a "classic" when it came to this flatbread dish, found himself intrigued. "Hawaiian? An interesting combination." He glanced at the menu once more, a hint of curiosity in his sapphire blue eyes. "I believe I shall try this… Garlic and Cheese."

Sonne, catching the glimmer of interest in Caspian's gaze, chuckled. "Excellent choice, Your Highness," he said, calling out to the owner who was already approaching their table, a portly man with flour-dusted apron and a cheerful smile.

"One Hawaiian, one Garlic and Cheese, coming right up!" boomed the owner, his voice echoing through the small pizzeria. "Anything else I can tempt you fine gentlemen with?"

Sonne exchanged a knowing glance with Caspian. "Perhaps," he drawled, "a pitcher of your finest iced tea to accompany these culinary delights?"

The owner, beaming at the prospect of such esteemed customers, readily agreed. "Coming right up! The best iced tea on Snowfall, if I do say so myself."

As the owner bustled away, Sonne leaned back in his chair, a satisfied smile playing on his lips.

"I can be quite a while…" Sonne's words trailed off as his gaze swept across the cozy pizzeria, taking in the details – the worn wooden tables, the aroma of baking bread, the faint strains of music drifting from a lute player in the corner. It was a far cry from the opulent halls of the palace, yet there was a warmth to the place that Caspian found strangely appealing.

"If you could have a superpower," Sonne continued, turning his gaze back to Caspian, a mischievous glint in his eyes, "what would it be?"

The question, so unexpected, caught Caspian off guard. He was accustomed to discussions of trade agreements and political alliances, not whimsical musings on superpowers. Yet, there was something about Sonne's direct gaze, the genuine curiosity in his eyes, that compelled Caspian to respond.

"A superpower…" Caspian echoed, his voice barely a whisper as he considered the question. It was a truth universally acknowledged within the royal court that Prince Caspian was a man of few words. Yet, here he was, engaging in idle chatter with a strawberry merchant, as if they were the oldest of friends.

"Perhaps," Caspian began, his gaze drifting towards the window, where a ray of sunlight illuminated the falling snow outside, "the ability to control the weather. To bring warmth to those who shiver in the cold, to coax life from barren lands…"

A wistful expression crossed his face, a rare glimpse behind the prince's facade. It was no secret that Caspian harbored a deep empathy for his people, a desire to ease their burdens. It was this compassion, carefully hidden beneath layers of aloofness, that had made him so beloved by the citizens of Snowfall.

Sonne leaned back in his chair, a playful smirk tugging at the corners of his mouth as he regarded Caspian. "And what would you be called? The Weatherman?" His tone was teasing, a lighthearted challenge that made the atmosphere between them feel even more relaxed.

Caspian felt the warmth of a blush creeping to his cheeks, a rare occurrence for the usually composed prince. He could sense Sonne's playful energy, and for a moment, the weight of his royal duties faded into the background. "I suppose that could work," he replied, a hint of amusement dancing in his sapphire eyes. "But perhaps a more regal title would be befitting. The Storm Sovereign, perhaps?"

Sonne’s laughter, warm and rich like dark chocolate, filled the small pizzeria. "Even the name has some sort of regality on it," he chuckled, taking a sip of his iced tea. "The Storm Sovereign. Has a nice ring to it, don’t you think?"

Caspian, caught off guard by, found himself smiling back. He had grown so accustomed to the formalities of court life that he had almost forgotten the simple pleasure of a genuine laugh.

The arrival of the pizzas, fragrant and steaming, momentarily pulled Caspian’s attention away from Sonne’s easy banter. The aroma of melted cheese, herbs, and something tantalizingly unfamiliar – pineapple, perhaps? – filled the air, making his stomach rumble with anticipation.

The pizzas were surprisingly large, each taking up nearly half the table. Caspian’s garlic and cheese pizza was a symphony of textures and aromas – the crispness of the crust, the gooeyness of the cheese, the pungent aroma of roasted garlic.

Sonne, ever the gracious host, gestured towards Caspian's pizza. "Dig in, Your Highness," he encouraged, a playful glint in his eyes. "Don't let it get cold."

Caspian, picking up a slice with practiced grace, couldn't help but feel a sense of anticipation. He took a bite, and the flavors exploded on his tongue. It was unlike anything he had ever tasted – savory, pungent, and utterly delicious. "This…" he began, then paused, searching for the right words. "This is surprisingly good."

Sonne, already halfway through his Hawaiian pizza, chuckled. "Told you, Your Highness," he said between bites, "different can be good."

As they ate, the conversation flowed easily between them…

"So… what do you do for a hobby?" Sonne asked casually between bites of his Hawaiian pizza, his gaze curious as he glanced at Caspian.

Caspian, momentarily surprised by the question, swallowed his bite of garlic and cheese pizza. It was a simple enough question, one that anyone else might have answered without a second thought. But for Prince Caspian, whose life was so intricately woven with the tapestry of royal duty, the concept of a "hobby" seemed almost foreign.

"Duty, I'm afraid, often overshadows leisure," Caspian admitted, a hint of self-deprecation in his tone. "My days are filled with matters of state, trade negotiations, diplomatic visits…" He trailed off, suddenly aware of how stifling his life must sound to someone like Sonne, who seemed to approach everything with such easygoing enthusiasm.

"But," Caspian continued, determined to offer more than a litany of his royal obligations, "when time allows, I find solace in swordplay. And in the quiet solitude of my library, surrounded by ancient texts and forgotten lore."

"Ancient texts hold a certain allure, don't they?" Sonne's eyes glinted with genuine interest, his gaze lingering on Caspian for a moment longer than necessary. "The whispers of forgotten times, the echoes of civilizations past… There's a certain magic to it." He paused, taking another bite of his pizza, seemingly lost in thought. "What's the most fascinating piece of ancient wisdom you’ve stumbled upon?" he asked, tilting his head slightly, a gesture that accentuated the sharp line of his jaw.

Caspian, despite himself, felt a warmth spread through his chest at Sonne’s genuine curiosity. It was refreshing to encounter someone who saw beyond the façade of princely decorum, who engaged with him on an intellectual level.

Caspian hesitated, a thoughtful frown creasing his brow. "It wasn't exactly ancient wisdom," he admitted, his gaze drifting towards the window where snowflakes danced in the wintery breeze. "More of a… legend, really. A tale passed down through generations of Frostheart rulers." He paused, taking a sip of his iced tea, unsure whether he should share such a closely guarded secret with someone he had only just met.

Sonne, sensing Caspian's internal debate, leaned back in his chair, his expression a careful mask of casual interest. "A legend?" he prompted, his tone light, encouraging. "I'm all ears, Your Highness. Legends often hold a kernel of truth, wouldn't you agree?"

Caspian, emboldened by Sonne's genuine curiosity, decided to indulge in a rare moment of vulnerability. "It's the legend of the Sun and Snow Accord," he began, his voice barely a whisper. "A pact forged centuries ago between the kingdoms of Eternal Summer and Snowfall. A promise of peace and cooperation, symbolized by a magical artifact – the Sunstone."

"The Sunstone…" Sonne echoed, his eyes widening slightly. It was the first time Caspian had witnessed a flicker of surprise on his otherwise composed features.

"Indeed," Caspian confirmed, intrigued by Sonne's reaction. "Legend has it that the Sunstone, imbued with the combined magic of our kingdoms, could control the very elements, bringing warmth to the harshest winters, ensuring bountiful harvests even in the depths of summer." He paused, gauging Sonne's reaction. "It's a tale often recounted to Frostheart children," he added, a hint of amusement in his voice. "A bedtime story meant to instill hope and unity."

"That sounds interesting," Sonne said, leaning forward, a hint of a smile playing on his lips. "A magical artifact that could control the elements… It makes you wonder if there's any truth to these old tales."

Caspian, heartened by Sonne’s continued interest, found himself relaxing further into the conversation. It was a rare treat to discuss such matters with someone who wasn’t bound by the rigid protocols of the Snowfall court.

"Truth often lies shrouded in myth and legend," Caspian mused, his gaze drifting towards the flames dancing in the pizzeria’s hearth. "Perhaps the Sunstone is merely a fanciful tale. Or perhaps…" he paused, letting the thought hang in the air between them.

"Perhaps it’s real?" Sonne finished, his eyes twinkling with a mixture of amusement and genuine curiosity.

"Perhaps," Caspian echoed, a ghost of a smile playing on his lips.

Their conversation flowed easily from that point onwards, touching upon everything from the ancient lore to the latest gossip swirling through the capital’s social circles.

As the morning wore on, however, the weight of Caspian’s royal duties began to tug at his mind. He had diplomatic dispatches to review, advisors to consult with… And yet, the thought of bidding farewell to Sonne’s company left an unexpected ache in his chest.

Sonne, ever perceptive, noticed the subtle shift in Caspian's demeanor. The prince, though still engaged in their conversation, seemed to have retreated slightly, his gaze occasionally drifting towards the marketplace outside.

"Well, don’t let me keep you, Your Highness," Sonne said, rising from his seat with his usual grace. He gestured for the bill, leaving a generous pile of coins on the table, enough to cover their meal and then some. "Allow me to walk you to your carriage."

Caspian, though reluctant to let their time together end, knew that duty called. He rose from his chair, acutely aware of the warmth that spread through his chest at Sonne’s offer. "That’s very kind of you, Master Dial," he replied, a hint of a smile touching his lips.

As they stepped out of the pizzeria, the lively energy of the marketplace washed over them. Merchants hawked their wares, children darted between stalls, and the air was thick with the scents of spices, fresh bread, and roasted chestnuts.

Sonne, despite the press of the crowd, remained close at Caspian’s side, effortlessly navigating the narrow lanes with a grace that belied his height and build. They fell into step beside each other, their conversation resuming as if uninterrupted, a comfortable rhythm of shared laughter and thoughtful observations.

Reaching the spot where Caspian’s carriage awaited, Sonne came to a stop, offering the prince a respectful nod. "It was a pleasure, Your Highness," he said, his tone sincere. "I look forward to our next encounter."

Caspian found himself echoing Sonne’s sentiment. "The pleasure was all mine, Master Dial," he replied, a genuine smile gracing his lips. It was a rare occurrence for the prince to find such ease in the company of another, especially someone outside the confines of the Snowfall court. He extended his hand, his gloved fingers brushing against Sonne’s calloused ones. "Until next time."

Sonne’s lips curved in a smile that reached his eyes, a warmth radiating from him that belied the chill of the winter air. "Until next time, Your Highness."

As Caspian turned to board his carriage, a thought struck him. He paused, his hand lingering on the carriage door, a flicker of uncertainty in his sapphire blue eyes. Turning back to Sonne, he surprised himself by blurting out, "Master Dial, there is a… a royal hunting party next week. Goblin infestation, rather bothersome creatures, in the Glacierwood Forest. You would be most welcome to attend." He mentally cringed at his own awkwardness. Inviting a strawberry merchant to a royal hunt? What was he thinking?

Sonne's eyebrows rose in surprise, a hint of amusement in his eyes. "A royal hunt, Your Highness?" he echoed, tilting his head slightly. "That sounds… intriguing. But wouldn't my presence be rather… out of place?"

Caspian, despite his initial awkwardness, found himself unexpectedly determined. "Not at all, Master Dial," he insisted, his voice firmer now, a hint of his princely authority returning. "Your presence would be… most welcome."

A beat of silence hung in the air, the vibrant sounds of the marketplace fading into the background as their eyes met.

"So," Caspian pressed, feeling strangely breathless, "will you attend?"