A/N: This is the sequel to "The Delight of My Eyes" which I planned ages ago and only just finished. I hope it lives up to its predecessor. ;) Incidentally if you haven't read "The Delight of My Eyes" it's just a lil' oneshot. This one is readable without it, but it may be a bit confusing.

Prologue

The lamps were burning low, casting a soft glow over the remnants of the party: the drooping garlands, the wilting flowers, the silverware and crystal tarnished with fingerprints. All of these were the signs of a merry revel, and many who tripped back to their homes less than sober said it was the greatest feast Cair Paravel had seen since the coronation of the Kings and Queens. This was quite a feat, as Cair Paravel was a castle known for its magnificent feasts.

Indeed, everyone had said the Kings and Queens had never looked happier. They had good cause to celebrate—at last Queen Susan was married.

The political guests, the diplomats and the former suitors, had paid their respects and drifted away, some nursing broken hearts, others lamenting the lost alliance. They were silly to ever have hoped for one. Always privately and since Rabadash publicly the High King swore he would not sell his sisters in marriage, but let them follow their hearts. This wedding was proof. There was no strategy in the match—Queen Susan's husband was a minor lord of little importance from the Seven Isles. In fact, the rumor was that King Micah was angered by the match because he wanted Queen Susan for himself.

At the moment, jealousy and intrigue were forgotten in the intimacy of the dying party. The orchestra continued to play, favoring slow, dreamy songs which Queen Susan like best. This was occasionally interrupted by a tinkle of laughter or the chime of a fork on a plate. Everyone was full, sleepy, and sanguine. There were less than a score of guests in the hall and only two couples on the dance floor. One was Queen Susan and her new husband, who she had finally persuaded to dance. The newly crowned Prince was a huge woodsman, and as he danced the reason for his reluctance became obvious. Whatever his flaws were, however, they were masked by the tenderness with which he held his wife, his large hand resting on the small of her back. Occasionally his fingers curled to caress her gently. For her part, Queen Susan looked up into her husband's face with a look which radiated such joy and love as to illuminate everything about her. Those who saw her could have no lingering doubt that she was the most beautiful woman in the world.

The other couple on the dance floor were Prince Cor of Archenland and the Lady Aravis. They were dancing close together, enough to whisper to each other.

"She looks so peaceful," Cor murmured, nodding to Queen Susan. "I have always seen her very anxious." He remembered when he first met her in Tashbaan—the worry etched onto her brow, the way she twisted her hands. Every time he had seen her since, something of that look lingered. Except now.

"She has found what her heart was seeking," Aravis replied matter-of-factly. "Have not the poets said, 'When the heart ceases to wander, the soul finds peace'?"

Cor grinned. "The poets never said anything of the sort! They've never written anything half so nice or so wise. I believe you made that up."

Aravis only shrugged, keeping her eyes demurely downcast. Cor laughed at her feigned modesty, and he felt an irresistible urge to kiss her. He fought with it until Aravis raised her glittering black eyes to his. Then he had to duck his head and press his lips to hers.

When he drew away, her eyes were still closed, the tiniest hint of a blissful smile playing on her lips. "No in public…you're so improper," she murmured, her hand pressing firmly on the back of his neck to bend his head for another kiss. Cor couldn't help but sigh against her mouth.

A clear ripple of laughter broke through the heady romance of the moment. Cor and Aravis looked up to see Corin and Queen Lucy wrestling in a ridiculous game of keep away. Lucy was trying to hide a piece of paper away in her dress where Corin couldn't get at it, being a gallant young prince. Corin prevented this by tickling her, and she shrieked with laughter. As she let her guard down, he seized his opportunity to snatch the paper. She dove after it, but he held it out of her reach, being head and shoulders taller than her.

At last Corin managed to unfold the paper. "It's a note from Dar!" he cried. "I should have told him al communications go through me…" he tailed off as he started reading the note, and he turned back to Lucy with a frown. "He wants to court you!" he declared pettishly.

"And?" Lucy retorted, snatching the paper back.

"Well—he—he shouldn't!" Corin blustered.

Lucy rolled her eyes. "Why's that, pray tell?"

"Because! He…he's…" Corin looked at Lucy with such sudden warmth that Cor tightened his hold on Aravis, watching with wide-eyed suspense. But in the end, Corin only finished with an almost sulky "He's not half good enough for you."

"I'll be the judge of that," Lucy said wryly as she snatched the letter back, missing the earnestness in his voice.

Corin's face fell for a moment, but by the time Lucy looked up the expression was gone and he was looking mischievous. He grabbed the note and tossed it over his shoulder. "Dance with me, and you'll forget all about Dar." He stood up and extended his hand.

Lucy laughed richly and slipped her hand into his, standing up.

"Still," Aravis murmured with a sigh. "He's still holding on."

"I know it. It seems impossible to discourage him," Cor answered.

Aravis looked up at him sharply. "Do you think love can simply be discouraged?"

Cor balked at her expression. "No—no!" He drew a breath. "Of course not. Aravis, don't get tetchy now. You know I believe in love. I love you, and nothing could discourage me from that."

"What if I refused your suit? What if I was cold to you?"

A glib retort came to Cor's mind, but he knew better than to make it. He shook his head and dared himself to say what was in his heart. "It wouldn't matter. You would always be the delight of my eyes."