Chapter 15: Little One
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The days Liren spent beside Adrian settled into a quiet rhythm of happiness—simple, almost childlike happiness unlike anything she had known before, even in her father’s palace among sisters who loved her but were often occupied with lives of their own.
He had begun calling her Little One.
The nickname had come naturally.
He loved the way she looked at the world with innocent wonder, despite her grace and quiet dignity.
There was something delightfully unguarded about her curiosity that never failed to make him smile.
“Come along, Little One,” he would say, taking her hand before leading her along the rocky coastline.
“Today I’ll show you the cove where my friends and I searched for pirate treasure when we were children.”
“I imagine you never thought I believed in hidden treasure too.”
She would answer with nothing more than a radiant smile and a nod.
Those silent gestures had become the language of her heart.
Whenever his hand closed around hers and his voice softened with easy affection, she almost believed that the happiness she had dreamed about for so many months had finally become real.
She learned countless little ways of speaking without words.
A glance.
A touch.
The tilt of her head.
A smile that meant yes.
Another that meant no.
Soon Adrian understood her almost as easily as if she had spoken aloud.
Sometimes she drew little pictures in the sand to explain herself.
He always laughed with genuine delight at her cleverness.
“There,” he would say, studying another of her simple sketches.
“You’ve managed to tell an entire story without saying a single word.”
“There is something magical about that.”
His admiration warmed her more deeply than sunlight ever could.
The pain in her feet never disappeared.
Every step still felt as though invisible blades waited beneath the soles of her feet.
But beside Adrian the suffering became easier to bear.
Not because it lessened.
Because it became worthwhile.
Every painful step earned another smile.
Another shared afternoon.
Another gentle look that seemed reserved for her alone.
Liren was almost happy.
Almost.
Because somewhere deep inside her heart lived a quiet fear she could never silence.
Adrian called her Little One.
His friend.
His miracle from the sea.
His greatest curiosity.
But never—
not once—
did he call her the one thing for which she had surrendered her voice, her home, and her very nature.
The blow came on a bright, peaceful morning.
A royal messenger arrived bearing a decree from Adrian’s father.
The king had grown increasingly concerned that his son remained unmarried.
For years a political alliance with the neighboring kingdom had been discussed.
Now the matter was settled.
Adrian would marry the neighboring princess.
The decision was final.
Liren learned of it from the whispers of the ladies-in-waiting before Adrian himself had the chance to tell her.
The moment the words reached her, the world seemed to tilt beneath her feet.
The pain she had grown accustomed to suddenly became something far worse.
It was no longer her feet that hurt.
It was her heart.
She could not scream.
She could not sob aloud as any other young woman might have done.
Instead she stood motionless beside the window, staring at the sea below while everything she had dared hope for quietly crumbled inside her.
Later that day Adrian found her there.
He mistook her grief for something entirely different.
“Don’t be sad, Little One,” he said gently as he sat beside her and took her cold hand between his own.
“A wedding doesn’t mean the end of our friendship.”
“You’ll remain here at court.”
“And I promise you…”
“Nothing between us will change.”
Those words wounded her more deeply than cruelty ever could have.
Because they revealed the truth she had feared from the very beginning.
He loved her.
But only as one loves a dear companion.
A precious friend.
A beautiful curiosity.
Not as the woman for whom a man would abandon kingdoms.
The princess arrived only a few days later with a magnificent royal procession.
Standing among the ladies of the court, Liren watched from a distance as Adrian stepped forward to greet his future bride.
He bowed politely.
Then, as he lifted his head and looked into the princess’s face more closely, something changed.
He froze.
“Wait…” he said softly.
“Haven’t we met before?”
“That terrible night…”
“When my ship was lost…”
The princess hesitated.
She had indeed been staying at a monastery along the coast at that time.
She had been among the first to discover Adrian unconscious on the shore after the storm.
Though she had not rescued him.
Though she had never sung to him across the raging sea.
Still…
She nodded.
Recognition spread slowly across Adrian’s face.
“It was you.”
His voice trembled with relief.
“All these years I wondered who saved my life.”
“And now I finally know.”
“It was you.”
He spoke with such certainty…
with such grateful conviction…
that no one present—not even the princess herself—found the heart to contradict him.
The mistake was too beautiful.
Too comforting.
Too perfect.
Standing only a few paces away, Liren heard every word.
The ground seemed to vanish beneath her aching feet.
She had been the one who had pulled him from the waves.
She had held him through the long night.
She had sung to him while the storm raged around them.
The voice that had guided him back toward life now rested forever at the bottom of the sea…
sealed inside the witch’s crystal vial.
She wanted to cry out.
To run between them.
To tell him the truth with frantic gestures, desperate eyes, any means left to her.
But there was no voice.
Only silence.
She could do nothing except watch as Adrian, filled with joy at what he believed was the answer to a mystery that had haunted him for years, offered his arm to his fiancée and walked with her through the palace gardens.
Leaving Liren standing alone…
with the terrible realization that even if she could somehow tell him the truth now—
it might already be too late.
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