One last morning. One last breakfast. One last announcement from her father. She glanced sidelong down the table at the two men on the other side of her mother. The two men that had once again passed last night’s pea gravel test. Acid gripped her heart and she couldn’t breathe. How was she supposed to choose?

“As you can see, we have our final two candidates,” the king said. “The last test will be a private one. It is a sacred family tradition that’s been passed down for generations. I hope you all understand.” He motioned to Fawx and Ronan. “If you will follow me, please?”

They passed her, Ronan with a head nod, Fawx with a blown kiss and a wink. She pulled her mother aside.

“I want to take the test.”

“What’s that, darling?”

“I need to do the test, too, Mother. Please? I need to know.”

Her mother looked her square in the eyes.

“All right, darling. I understand.” She smiled. “Follow me.”

They entered a room with five beds. Five tall, fluffy beds with stepping stools beside them.

Her mother said, “Each bed has twenty mattresses and twenty comforters. Only one bed has one piece of pea gravel underneath everything. If you can feel it, you are a true princess.” She turned to her daughter. “But, darling, you don’t need this silly test to prove that.”

“If I expect it of my life partner, I expect it of myself.”

Myra climbed onto the first bed. Nothing. She left an impression of her body in the fluff. Second, third, and fourth beds also nothing. She looked up at the last bed and swallowed the lump of lead down to the pit of her stomach. Fifth bed. Like lying on clouds, same as the others. Except. She wriggled. How was that even possible? There’s no way that rock was on the bottom. And a single piece of pea gravel? She shuddered. It felt like a boulder.

She sat up and looked under her back. Hopped down and reached under the mattress. She stared at the tiny pebble, jaw slack. Her mother’s arm wrapped around her shoulders.

“Do you believe me now?”

*****

She sat in the room of beds with a mask covering her entire face. The maids had fluffed them again to remove the evidence of which beds she had lain in and her mother had replaced the pea gravel. She could watch but had to remain perfectly still and silent.

Her mother stood in the doorway with Fawx. “If you would, please, try all the beds and let us know which is the most comfortable. We know you’ve had a terrible time sleeping here.”

He flourished a bow. “It would be my pleasure, Your Majesty.”

“Thank you, Lord Fawx.” The queen shut the door.

Fawx dashed by Myra and jumped on the fifth bed. He made a disgusted noise in the back of his throat.

“Really, Myra, are all the mattresses in your castle lumpy?”

“You know I’m not supposed to talk to you, right?”

He sprung down and grabbed her hands, squatting to match her eye level. He tilted his head, fluttered his eyelashes, and smirked.

“But that’s how I know you love me.”

Then he was off to the next bed. He moaned in pleasure.

“I see I was wrong. What a heavenly cloud!” He yawned and curled up on his side. “I’ll just take a little nap.”

She sighed and walked over to that bed, resting her chin on top of the stacked mattresses.

“What is your dream for the future?”

His golden-brown eyes popped open. “You are, Myra.”

Warmth fluttered and spread through her chest. Her mischievous fox was all serious for once. She bit her lower lip.

“No, I mean, before we met. What was your dream?”

He rolled on his back and flung an arm over his eyes. “Oh, that. Freedom.”

“You’re not free? But your cousin is the Empress.”

“Exactly. The Empress controls every aspect of my life. Do you know why I know everyone?”

She shook her head before remembering he had his eyes covered. “No.”

“I’m one of her spies, Myra. Because no one suspects the playful, friendly Fawx.”

He brought his hands up by his cheeks in fake paws and smiled a bitter smile. He rolled onto his stomach and rested his chin in his hands.

“I’m not a way to freedom.”

“You’re right and wrong.” He laughed at her furrowed brows. “It’s true that marrying a crown princess would be a different kind of cage, but if I lived in that cage with you, the bars would expand and the whole world would fit inside.” One long blink later, with tears slipping down his cheeks, he said, “It would be worth it, to spend my life with you.”

“Noah,” she whispered, her own mirrored tears sliding down.

He winked and jumped down. Standing behind her, he whispered in her ear, “I know I’m not your first choice, but I’ll stay. I’ll be your backup prince.”

He turned to leave. She grabbed his hand.

“Aren’t you going to try the other beds?”

He shook his head. “You and I both know I passed the test.”

*****

Ronan entered the room of beds after receiving the same instructions that Fawx had. He took a different approach and tried the middle bed first. Myra remained silent, thinking over Fawx’s declaration. She watched the quiet, methodical man in front of her. What would his people say? And what would he do if his people said no? She held her breath as he climbed into the fifth bed. It was a moot point if he failed this test.

He shifted his neck and shoulders. Then rolled from one side onto the other with a scowl. He huffed.

“I don’t understand how something can be both comfortable and immeasurably uncomfortable at the same time.” He looked at her. “Is this the test?”

She pulled her mask off, grinning and nodding. “And you passed.”

He climbed down and she smacked his shoulder. He winced.

“Why did you stop me yesterday? We lost everything because you stopped me.”

“One, you don’t know what might have happened. Two, the flags were not the most important part of the game.”

She cracked her jaw. “What do you mean the flags weren’t the most important? It’s called ‘capture the flag’?”

“True, but it’s a battle simulation and at the end of the day, you are a political leader. You are what the flags represent. Countless times throughout the day you chose to put yourself in harm’s way because it was ‘just a game’. That’s a dangerous attitude. What you do in practice becomes habit. When you’re faced with a real-life crisis, habits are what you rely on.”

Through clenched teeth, she said, “I can take care of myself.”

“I know you can. I watched you do it.”

Her face scrunched up in such confusion that he laughed.

“Your court magicians recorded the game on crystals. I watched it last night with the others.” He ran his fingers through her hair. “And every time you threw yourself into danger, my heart threatened to stop. I’m not telling you to stop fighting. That would be a waste of your talents and it would destroy a piece of your soul. I want you to think before you jump into action.”

“I could work on that.” She smiled, warmth spreading from her chest throughout her limbs. “What about your people?”

His dimpled smile answered. “I’ll have to ask them, which means holding an election.”

“And if they say no?” she whispered at the floor.

He turned away. “Then I’ll abide by their decision. I’m their Taran. My people come first.”

*****

Myra stood with her parents in an upper hallway looking out a window at the sheep field. Ronan stood petting the sheep, staring at the sky. Fawx was curled up under the tree, napping.

“So, they both passed the test, eh?” her father asked.

She nodded.

“From what I’ve seen, either would make a fine husband,” her father said.

Again, she nodded.

Her mother held her hand and patted it. “There’s no rush, darling. Follow your heart.”

After a hug, her parents walked off, hand-in-hand, leaving her alone at the window. Myra looked down at the scene below, a slow smile curving her lips. Follow my heart, hm? Yes, that’s just what I’ll do.