At the royal court in Cair Paravel there were always young ladies milling around. Most were high born girls from far-off foreign nations who were looking for new Narnian marriage opportunities.
Edmund often felt sorry for these estranged women, who were so very far from home. The fast majority were boxed up and shipped off by pushy fathers in a quest for political advancement. These poor girls carried their fathers desperate hope that they could enter into loveless marriages with rich Narnians.
These courtesans, with their tired eyes and foreign tongues, were trained in the subtle art of flirtation. They smiled too brightly, they knew too much of etiquette and not nearly enough of fun. They milled about the castle in groups, descending on lone men like a large gaggle of geese around a particularly tasty crumb.
Of course the ultimate prize was the High King himself. Peter couldn't walk the nine steps between the throne room and his private study without being almost swept up in the draft from a hundred fluttering eyelashes. Peter used to respond politely, almost kindly, with a "Good day, Ladies" or at least a hello. But after years of this onslaught the Magnificent King just pushed through, trying to avoid stepping on some girl's very expensive imported shoes.
Carlotta knew all this as she stood in her father's throne room at their castle in the Southern Wastes. Carlotta was only 17 years old but her father had finally decided it was time she was married.
Carlotta was small for her 17 years, willowy in figure with the dark almond shaped eyes and curly hair of her people. She often bent her shoulders in a manner that her nurse maid called "un-regal". This posture was a direct result of hunching over large books and reading long into the night. Carlotta loved to read and often fell asleep with a book pressed against her face, much to her nurse's dismay.
"Papa, I will NOT go to Narnia." Carlotta stamped as she turned to face her father. Her thick accent caused her to roll the r in Narnia, further extending the syllable.
"Lotta, you are a child no longer. You must go to Narnia and find a husband. A strong noblemen with enough influence in Narnia to protect our kingdom."
"But Papa! My people need me, you need me! Who will care for you when I am gone?" Carlotta crouched down beside her father's throne. "Who will make sure you don't work yourself to death?"
Carlotta's father chuckled as he stroked her wiry hair. "I will be fine, dear one." he placed a kiss on Carlotta's forehead before taking her hand and rising. His old knees creaked as he stood. He pulled Carlotta in front of him and looked at her calmly and proudly.
It was that these moments that he looked most like the king that he was, despite his grey hairs and weathered face. Carlotta saw the laughter lines etched into his cheeks and thought about her joyful childhood. But now that she was almost fully grown, Carlotta had started to understand the duties and sacrifices that came with being a princess. As her father's only heir, she knew that her marriage would most likely be a loveless one. It was her duty to protect and rule her lands and a Narnian army will certainly help that.
Carlotta fixed her eyes on her father and sighed. She saw the sadness in his face but it was mixed with a sort of pride.
"Go, my little Lotta. Go and pack. You leave at first light.
Hello fine people!
Just had an idea for this little story today on the train, I have a plan of sorts but I hope you enjoyed this first instalment.
More is on the way, I promise!
Anna xx
Disclaimer: I do not own Narnia or (unfortunately) the Pevensie brothers. I just own Little Lotta and her father