Chapter 36: The Least-Wanted Men of Snowfall

The quaint village, nestled amidst rolling hills and whispering willows, seemed like a peaceful haven, a far cry from the dangers and uncertainties that had become their constant companions. The aroma of freshly baked bread wafted from a nearby bakery, mingling with the scent of honeysuckle and freshly cut hay, creating a sensory tapestry that spoke of simpler times, of tranquil routines undisturbed by the weight of their quest.

Caspian, ever vigilant, felt a familiar tightness in his chest as they entered the village square. It had been weeks since they'd last ventured into a settlement of any significant size, preferring the solitude and relative safety of the open road.

"Let’s grab a quick bite to eat, Cassy," Sonne suggested, his gaze sweeping over the bustling marketplace. "I’m famished, and I wouldn't say no to a plate of those apple tarts they're selling over there."

Caspian, his stomach rumbling in agreement, was about to concur when a flash of silver near the village well caught his eye. Two men, clad in the familiar blue and silver uniforms of Snowfall soldiers, stood talking in hushed tones, their expressions grim, their hands resting on the hilts of their swords.

Caspian’s heart stuttered in his chest, a tremor of apprehension coursing through him. Snowfall soldiers. What are they doing here?

"Sonne," he hissed, his hand instinctively reaching out to grab the strawberry merchant's arm. "Look."

Sonne followed Caspian’s gaze, his brow furrowing as he took in the sight of the soldiers. "Interesting," he murmured, his voice low and cautious. "Wonder what they're up to."

Curiosity warred with caution in Caspian’s chest. They couldn’t risk being discovered, not now, not when they were so close to the Elven realm. But something about the soldiers’ demeanor, the intensity of their hushed conversation, drew him in like a moth to a flame.

It could be nothing, he reasoned with himself, even as his feet carried him closer to the well, Sonne trailing behind him. But what if it’s not?

As they drew nearer, careful to remain inconspicuous amongst the bustling villagers, snippets of the soldiers’ conversation reached their ears.

"—Prince Caspian—" one of the soldiers was saying, his voice a low growl. "—orders are clear—"

Prince Caspian? They’re talking about…me?

Caspian’s heart pounded against his ribs, a frantic drumbeat echoing his growing apprehension. He risked a glance at the soldiers, his gaze darting towards the object they held in their hands—a piece of parchment, its surface covered in official-looking script and…was that…his own face staring back at him?

Sonne, sensing the shift in Caspian’s demeanor, leaned closer, his shoulder brushing against Caspian’s arm. "What is it, Cassy?" he whispered, his voice a low rumble against Caspian’s ear, causing a jolt to run through him.

Before Caspian could answer, the second soldier unfolded another piece of parchment, this one displaying a strikingly familiar face—Sonne’s. Caspian’s breath caught in his throat.

"—strawberry merchant," the soldier continued, tapping a finger against Sonne's likeness on the parchment. "Suspected in kidnapping the prince."

Kidnapping? They accused Sonne of kidnapping me?

Caspian’s head spun. It was beyond ludicrous. Sonne, the very person who had risked everything to help him, accused of being his kidnapper? It was utterly preposterous.

He risked a glance at Sonne. The strawberry merchant's eyes were wide with disbelief, his mouth slightly agape. The usually unflappable Sonne seemed completely blindsided by the accusation, which, to be fair, was completely understandable. Who in their right mind would accuse Sonne, the epitome of sunshine and good cheer, of such a dastardly deed?

Caspian suppressed a hysterical laugh, the absurdity of the situation momentarily eclipsing the very real danger they were in.

"Well, this is just…great," he muttered under his breath, his voice laced with a mixture of disbelief and begrudging amusement.

Sonne, still reeling from the shock, turned to Caspian, his eyes wide and unblinking. "I…I can explain," he stammered, his usual confidence momentarily deserting him.

Caspian, his amusement fading as quickly as it had arrived, realized that the situation was far from humorous. This wasn't some lighthearted misunderstanding that could be cleared up with a simple explanation and a charming smile. This was serious.

"We need to leave," he hissed, his hand closing around Sonne’s arm. "Now."

Without waiting for a response, Caspian pulled Sonne away from the well, their sudden movement drawing curious glances from the surrounding villagers. He ignored the stares, the whispers, the scent of apple tarts that did little to appease his suddenly volatile stomach. They needed to disappear, to melt back into the anonymity of the crowd before the soldiers decided to share a certain strawberry merchant’s "wanted" poster with the rest of the village.

They weaved through the crowded marketplace, their pace brisk but not overtly panicked. Caspian’s mind raced, searching for an escape route, a safe haven, a way to extricate themselves from this increasingly precarious situation.

Think, Caspian, think!

He spotted a narrow alleyway snaking between two buildings, its entrance partially obscured by a rickety cart piled high with sacks of grain. It wasn’t much, but it would have to do.

"This way," he muttered, steering a bewildered Sonne towards the alley. "And try to look less…kidnapped."

Sonne, bless his oblivious heart, sputtered, "But I am kidnapped! Well, not really, but they—"

Caspian silenced him with a look, his expression a mixture of exasperation and something akin to…fondness?

Honestly, he thought, shaking his head in disbelief. Even when facing accusations of kidnapping, the man can’t help but be…Sonne.

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The alley reeked of stale ale and something vaguely…biological, a testament to the effectiveness, or lack thereof, of the "No Peeing!" sign plastered haphazardly on the grimy brick wall. Caspian wrinkled his nose in disgust, his princely sensibilities rebelling against the assault on his olfactory senses. But even the stench couldn't quite overshadow the absurdity of the situation.

There, next to the aforementioned sign, proudly displayed for all the alley's denizens to admire, was Sonne's "wanted" poster. The image, clearly taken from Sonne's merchant ID, captured the strawberry merchant in all his effortless glory. His dark hair was artfully tousled, his brown eyes, usually twinkling with mischief, held a hint of steely determination, and his lips curved into a smirk that could only be described as…devastatingly charming.

Honestly, the man could be arrested for excessive handsomeness, Caspian thought, a reluctant smile tugging at his lips.

"Oh no, who's this handsome kidnapper~?" Sonne’s voice, laced with amusement, broke through Caspian's thoughts. Caspian turned to see Sonne standing before the poster, his expression a mixture of disbelief and theatrical indignation. He peeled the poster from the wall and held it up beside his face, attempting to mimic the suave pose captured in the image.

He's impossible, Caspian thought, his smile widening despite the precariousness of their situation.

As Sonne’s gaze scanned the poster’s text, his playful demeanor wavered. "Kidnapping, huh?" he muttered, his voice losing some of its usual buoyancy. Then his eyes landed on the reward offered for his capture—a single, solitary gold coin.

Caspian snorted, unable to contain his laughter. "Oh, he’s definitely messing with you," he said, referring to the impeccably dressed captain who had pursued them with such unwavering determination. "I’ve never seen the palace make such a…minimal effort for a wanted fugitive. Congratulations, Sonne, you’re officially the least-wanted man in Snowfall."

Sonne’s face remained impassive, his usual playful smirk replaced by a look of…was that…annoyance?

"This needs three zeros," he declared, his voice flat. "I’m that expensive."

Caspian’s laughter bubbled up again, echoing through the narrow alleyway. "Maybe you should do something that would warrant a higher reward," he quipped, unable to resist the urge to tease.

Sonne shot him a mock-glower, but a hint of a smile played at the corners of his lips. "Don’t tempt me, Cassy. I’m full of surprises."

Caspian’s heart skipped a beat at the nickname, the casual intimacy of it sending a warmth through him. He realized, with a sudden clarity, that they were in this together now, two fugitives on the run, their fates intertwined in a way he’d never imagined.

Snowfall’s least-wanted men, he thought, the absurdity of it striking him anew. We might as well get matching tattoos.

And as they emerged from the alley, their shoulders brushing, their laughter echoing through the bustling marketplace, Caspian couldn’t help but feel a sense of…excitement. This adventure, this unexpected detour from his carefully planned life, was proving to be far more interesting than he’d ever anticipated.