Galma.

2307.

Five nights til the full moon.

4th Year of the Reign of King Caspian X.

Lezlea.

Lezlea stood at the head of the long, polished table, the flickering light of the candles casting sharp shadows across the room. The atmosphere was heavy with tension, and the air thick with the weight of decisions that would determine the future of Galma.

Around her, the advisors and captains shifted uneasily in their seats. Some were seasoned commanders, others tacticians, and a few scholars who had become well-versed in the theory of warfare, despite never having seen a battle.

They all wore expressions of grim determination, their minds already deep in the intricacies of their plans.

Caspian stood beside her, his posture straight, though there was an unfamiliar restlessness in his gaze. He was listening intently, but it was clear that the language of battle at sea was one he knew only in theory.

"What we know," began Lezlea, her voice steady and firm, "is that Milir's fleet is fast, but it is not invincible. Our greatest advantage is the terrain. We control the waters close to the island. The wind is ours to command, and the rocky shores make it difficult for larger ships to manoeuvre."

One of the older captains, a veteran of many campaigns, cleared his throat. "The question remains, my lady, how do we use these advantages without leaving ourselves vulnerable to Milir's speed? He too knows our strengths. He'll be prepared for the wind, for the rocks."

"We've studied his ships," another advisor interjected, his voice quiet but authoritative. "They're designed for speed, but they're lightly armoured. If we can get them into the shallows, we'll have a much better chance."

Lezlea nodded, considering this. "Shallow waters would force them to slow their advance. But we need to lure them into those waters. And once there, we'll need to keep them trapped." Her eyes turned briefly toward Caspian, but he was caught up in the conversation, deep in thought.

"The currents," another captain spoke, his brow furrowed, "the tides will change. We could use them to guide them into our trap. If we position ourselves right, the natural flow could push them into shallows where they won't have the mobility to fight back."

Lezlea glanced at the maps spread across the table. She traced the lines with her fingers, eyes narrowing as she absorbed the layout. "Yes. We need to act quickly and decisively. Once they're trapped, we strike. But we'll need our best archers, and most importantly, we need the element of surprise."

There was a brief silence as the advisors processed her words, then murmurs of agreement.

"I'll lead the forces myself," one captain said, voice thick with determination.

"You're sure?" Lezlea asked. "It will be a risky manoeuvre."

"I am sure," he replied, his jaw tight. "This island is my home. I'll defend it with my life."

Lezlea nodded in approval, but her gaze flickered again to Caspian. He had been mostly quiet, absorbed in their planning, but she knew the weight of her decisions was pressing heavily on him. He had made it clear that he had no intention of being just a figurehead. But his experience with the intricacies of warfare at sea was still limited.

"You're quiet, Your Majesty," Lezlea said, her voice softer now, though no less commanding. "What do you think of our plans?"

Caspian, startled by her attention, blinked. He paused, taking in the focused faces of the advisors before him. "We need to make sure our men are prepared, that they understand what's coming. We cannot afford mistakes."

Lezlea's eyes softened, just for a moment, before she nodded in agreement. "That is true. We'll ensure every one of our forces is trained in the necessary tactics. And we'll make sure our defences are fortified."

But her eyes flicked once again to Liliandil, who had remained silent throughout the discussion. The star had yet to speak, her delicate features a mask of quiet contemplation.

Liliandil's absence of words spoke volumes in its own way, and it didn't go unnoticed by Lezlea. There was something about the way the young woman held herself, something about her presence, that felt like both a gift and a burden.

Lezlea could sense the burden weighing heavily on Liliandil's shoulders, even though she had yet to speak.

"I suggest," Liliandil began, her voice steady but low, "that I use myself as bait to draw Boltan's forces in. If he knows I'm here, he will come for me, and that can work in our favour. It leaves too much to chance to rely upon currents to bring them close to shore."

There was a pause, as if the gravity of her suggestion settled in. Caspian, who had been leaning over a map, looked up quickly. His expression was a mix of confusion and concern. "Bait?" he repeated, his voice strained.

Liliandil met his gaze without hesitation. "If they come for me, Caspian, I can handle it. I won't be helpless."

The advisors looked uneasily at each other, the uncertainty growing. Lezlea's voice broke the stillness, her tone wary. "You want to let them think they've captured you, to lure Boltan in? What makes you so sure they won't simply use you to further their own ends, especially after everything you've endured?"

Liliandil's gaze never wavered, her resolve clear. "No one controls my light but me."

Caspian's frown deepened, and he stepped closer to her, his voice quieter now, almost pleading. "Liliandil, no. You've already been through enough. I will not lose you. Not again."

The words, so earnest and filled with concern, made something inside Lezlea stir, but she steeled herself. It was war. There was no room for tender emotions. "It's the only way to ensure our victory, Caspian."

There was a tension in the air, and though Caspian's jaw tightened with worry, he knew, deep down, that Liliandil's plan had merit. She wasn't just asking for protection; she was offering herself as a sacrifice for the greater good.

Lezlea's sharp eyes narrowed, assessing the plan. "It's a dangerous move. If you draw him in, you need to be ready to act quickly. You can't afford any hesitation. If Boltan gets his hands on you—"

"I won't give him the chance," Liliandil interrupted firmly, her voice cutting through the unease in the room. "I won't let him take me." A pause. "Never again."

"You're still willing to risk everything, even after what he put you through?" Caspian looked at her, and once again Lezlea felt as if she were interrupting a private moment between the two of them.

Liliandil nodded, her expression unwavering. "This is the only way to win."

For a long moment, there was silence as the room processed her words. The advisors exchanged glances, hesitant but resigned. Lezlea let out a slow breath before speaking again, her voice heavy with responsibility.

"We will do what we must," she said, her gaze locking with Liliandil's. "If you're certain about this, then we'll make the necessary preparations. We'll stand by you."

Caspian, though still unsure, nodded slowly. "If this is the plan… then we'll support you. But I'm not letting you do this alone, Liliandil."

Lezlea's voice cut through the tension in the room like a blade. She knew what he was thinking. And they could not also risk their king unnecessarily. "I will protect Liliandil," she declared, her gaze sweeping over the gathered advisors, to rest upon Caspian's face. "She will be on my ship."

Caspian frowned, his confusion evident. "But… why not the Dawn Treader?" he asked, his brow furrowing. "It's the most capable ship we have."

Lezlea shook her head. "The Dawn Treader is too noticeable. Moreover, the length and breadth of Narnia knows her prow – they will know she's your ship. The Treader would only draw unwanted attention. I need my own ship. It's faster, quieter, and capable of slipping in and out of places unnoticed. If we're going to keep her safe, I need to be able to control the situation fully."

Caspian opened his mouth to protest, but Lezlea cut him off before he could speak. "I will keep her safe. This is the only way. And Caspian, I know this plan does not sit well with you, but you must trust me." Her eyes softened as they met his. "You have done what you can. Now, we must act."

For a moment, Caspian looked as though he might argue further, but the weight of Lezlea's words seemed to settle over him. He knew she was right—he had to trust her. They were in uncharted waters now, and every choice felt like a gamble. But what else could they do?

"I trust you," he said quietly, his gaze never leaving Liliandil, as if needing her reassurance. "But promise me you won't take any risks you don't have to."

Lezlea met his eyes, her expression soft. "I promise," she said, her voice gentle but firm. "I won't let Boltan take her."

Lezlea stood at the head of the table, her eyes fixed on the map before her. She could feel the weight of every decision pressing down on her shoulders – decisions that would affect the lives of her people, her home. The island was not just a place to her. It was her responsibility, her heart.

Every life here was a thread woven into the fabric of her soul, and now, with Boltan's forces looming, she was faced with a decision that would haunt her for the rest of her life.

Lezlea's gaze hardened as she looked around the room, the faces of her advisors reflecting the same fear and uncertainty she felt in her chest. She wasn't afraid of facing Boltan, or of the risks to herself. What terrified her was the thought of the people she swore to protect in her father's stead, being caught in the middle of it all.

"We have no choice," she said, her voice firm, but betraying the tightness in her chest. "We will have to allow them close to port. To make them believe we are vulnerable, that we can be easily taken. If we draw them in, we have the best chance of catching them by surprise. But that also means we'll have to evacuate the villages."

A quiet murmur of dismay spread through the room, but Lezlea held up a hand to silence them. "They will have to leave their homes. Every woman, child, and elder who can't fight will need to be moved into the jungles or up into the mountains."

Caspian's voice rose again, a mixture of disbelief and concern. "You're asking them to abandon their homes. Their lives."

Lezlea's eyes softened for a brief moment, the hardness in her features giving way to the deep empathy that made her who she was. "I know," she said quietly, more to herself than to anyone else. "I know how hard it will be. But what would you have me do? Leave them to die? Do you think I could live with that? Could you all live with that?"

Her words hung in the air, and for a moment, the weight of her responsibility seemed to suffocate the room. The island was her everything. Her family. Her people. She had promised to protect them, to keep them safe, and now she was forced to make choices that would break her heart.

Lezlea's gaze turned toward Liliandil.

Caspian, though still uncertain, met Lezlea's gaze. "And if Boltan's forces overwhelm us before they can get everyone to safety?"

Lezlea's jaw clenched as she met his gaze. "Then we fight. We defend our home, our people. But we do it together. I won't let them destroy what we've built here. Not without a fight."

A silence fell over the room.

Everyone was acutely aware of the risks ahead.

But for Lezlea, there was no other option. This was her home. Her people. And no matter what it cost her, she would do whatever it took to protect them.

"Let us prepare," she said, her voice low and resolute. "Prepare for the worst, but hope for the best. We have one week. That's all we've got."

She turned back to the map, tracing the coastline with her finger, envisioning the path her would take to safety. The plan was dangerous, uncertain, and fraught with risks, but it was the only option they had.