It started out with little things: luminous glances that lingering just a little too long; smiles that shone just a little too bright; the brush of fingertips against bared skin. Apart, these might have been easily brushed off as nothing more than happenstance; however, together they painted a compelling picture.
Caspian took a closer look.
And that’s when he began to really notice the strained look on Peter’s face whenever Susan was near – when she leaned in close enough for Caspian to drown in her sweet scent, when she sighed secrets in his ear, her breath pleasantly warm against his neck. So too did he notice the coy looks the young woman would send her brother’s way when her small intimacies were reciprocated – and how amused she looked when Peter defiantly tried to stake fumbling claims of his own. He noticed. Oh, yes, he noticed.
Peter and Susan were at war – over him.
Once he knew the options, his choice came surprisingly easy. Softness and beauty were nice for a time, but after so many years with only dreams to love him Caspian needed something far more tangible.
Queen Susan didn’t look so gentle when she found Caspian ruthlessly debauching her brother in the garden, but Peter – he was truly magnificent.