I had begged him—no, I had humiliated myself, kneeling before him, clinging to his pants as I pleaded for Kylo's last wish. "Please," I had whispered, my voice breaking. "This will be the last time I ever ask anything of you. I promise... I’ll set you free."
Caspian had looked down at me then, a flicker of emotion in his eyes. Was it joy? Was it relief? I couldn’t tell. "You mean that?" he had asked, his voice cold and calculating.
"Yes," I had murmured, tears streaming down my face as I closed my eyes, feeling my heart shatter.
The truth was, when Caspian was young, his parents were killed in a rogue attack, leaving him a wanderer. I still remember the day I found him, a skinny, half-starved boy lying on the forest floor, barely alive. I was just a child, playing among the trees, when I stumbled upon him. He was nothing but skin and bones, too weak even to speak.
My heart ached for him. "You poor thing," I whispered, brushing a strand of hair from his dirt-streaked face. "You must be starving."
He looked up at me with those haunted eyes, and something inside me broke. I couldn't leave him there. I couldn't let him die.