Lily sat by the stream that traced the edge of Evermore, her bare feet dipped into the cool water. Morning mist curled like fingers above the surface, and the village behind her stirred gently to life. Somewhere in the distance, children laughed, and the sound of a hammer striking wood echoed softly evidence of Evermore healing itself, one nail at a time.
But inside Lily, nothing felt healed.
She picked up a smooth stone and turned it over in her palm, feeling the cool surface. Her eyes drifted to the ripples spreading across the water from her feet, each wave touching another, widening into something greater. That's how choices felt now. Small at first but touching everything.
Ever since she said no to the prince's offer, the village had grown quiet around her. Not unkind. But quiet. Some women still smiled when they saw her. Some men still greeted her with respectful nods. But the whispers were unmistakable.
"She turned down a prince."
"What was she thinking?"
"She chose a fisherman?"
Lily wasn't ashamed of Sam. Not once. But she felt the pressure of eyes, of unspoken questions, and of people wondering if she'd made a selfish choice. Her parents never said it aloud, but sometimes she caught her father looking at their old shoes, their worn roof, their nearly empty grain barrel. And she knew what he was thinking.
And now, the prince had sent another message.
This one was different.
He wasn't angry at least, not on paper. His messenger arrived in a carriage instead of on horseback. He brought gold with him, enough to feed the whole village for a month. And he brought a letter.
A letter for Lily.
She hadn't opened it yet.
It lay tucked into the folds of her shawl, heavy as if it had been sealed with stone instead of wax.
Behind her, twigs cracked.
She turned quickly.
Sam stood there, holding a basket filled with fish and herbs. He paused, unsure whether to speak or walk away.
"You're not very good at sneaking," Lily said quietly.
He smiled, just a little. "Didn't know I was trying to."
He stepped closer and sat beside her, placing the basket between them. "Brought you something."
She didn't look at it. "Sam… they sent another letter."
His jaw tensed. "What does it say?"
"I haven't read it."
Silence.
Lily finally looked at him. "I'm scared."
Sam's voice was low. "Of what?"
"That I was brave for one moment… and I won't be able to stay brave."
He didn't reply at first. Then he said, "You don't have to prove anything to anyone, Lily. Not me. Not your parents. Not this village."
"But I feel like I do," she whispered. "It's like… I chose a harder path. And now everyone's just waiting to see if I fall."
"You won't."
"How do you know?"
He looked at her then, and the calm steadiness in his eyes made something ease inside her. "Because I won't let you."
Lily swallowed hard. "What if I read the letter… and it changes something?"
"Then we'll face it," Sam said. "Together."
She reached into her shawl and pulled the letter out slowly. The seal was thick, a golden wax circle with the crest of a rising sun. It glittered faintly in the morning light. Her fingers trembled as she broke it.
She read in silence.
Sam watched her closely, every shift in her expression like a language he was trying to decode.
When she finally lowered the parchment, her face was unreadable.
"He's… coming here," she said.
Sam blinked. "The prince?"
Lily nodded. "In three days. He wants to meet me again. Properly. He says he respects my choice but believes I made it too quickly. He wants to give me a chance to see what he's really offering."
Sam looked away, toward the distant hills.
"He's not wrong," Lily added. "I never even spoke to him. I only saw his offer through letters and gold. I turned him down before I ever gave him a face."
Sam's voice was calm but firm. "Do you want to meet him?"
"I don't know."
He stood up slowly. "Then do. Meet him. If that's what it takes for you to be sure."
She looked up at him, startled. "You'd be okay with that?"
"No," he admitted. "But I want you to be okay. That matters more."
Lily felt tears press behind her eyes.
Sam added gently, "Just… don't let him talk you out of the truth you already know."
She didn't answer. She couldn't.
The wind rustled the trees. The stream murmured beneath them. And the stone in her hand slipped through her fingers and disappeared into the water.
The news of the prince's visit traveled fast. By noon, the village was buzzing again. Some prepared offerings. Others cleaned the square. Even the mayor came out of his home in a rarely seen fine coat, barking orders at the young boys sweeping the paths.
Lily moved through it all like a ghost.
At home, her mother polished their only good tea set. Her younger siblings whispered questions.
"Will he bring soldiers?"
"Is he really a prince?"
"Will Lily wear a crown?"
She forced a smile.
But her heart felt distant torn between past and future, between the weight of love and the burden of choice.
That night, she stood by the shore alone, the tide washing over her feet.
And she thought of the waves how they always returned to the same place, no matter how far they wandered.
Maybe love was like that.
Maybe some choices didn't need to be loud to be strong.....