"Oh, bother it all!" an annoyed voice drifted out into the corridor.

Prince Cor of Archenland smirked knowingly before lightly knocking on the partially open mahogany door.

"Come in- oof!"

Cor's smirk turned into a wide grin as he walked into the room. It was in disarray; the wardrobe on one wall had clothes spilling out of it onto the floor, a chair that had apparently once held a stack of books and papers had been tipped onto its side, and the large canopied bed was unmade. But perhaps the thing that made the prince smile the widest was the sight of the occupant of the room sprawled face-first on a pile of pillows and cushions at the foot of the bed. Her skirts were tangled around her flailing legs and her thick, curly black hair hung in her face as she pushed herself up on her elbows.

"Stop staring, Cor," she said shortly as she finally managed to pull herself into a standing position.

The grin stayed on Cor's face as he moved farther into the room. "Having clothing troubles again, Aravis?" he asked.

Aravis impatiently pushed her hair out of her face, revealing her flashing eyes. "It's not my fault I wasn't raised in Northern clothing!"

"Neither was I, but you don't see me having trouble dressing myself every morning," came his answer.

"That's because you're a boy, and boys' clothes are much easier to wear and dress oneself in. You don't have to bother with skirts and underskirts and miles and miles of buttons!"

"If you think boys' clothes are so great, why don't you wear them?"

Aravis glared at him and responded, "I'm a girl, and girls don't wear boys' clothes-" then as the prince opened his mouth to speak again, she added, "-unless they're trying to run away, so you won't say a word about my brother's armor, Cor, if you know what's good for you!"

Cor remained silent, and Aravis began tugging on the back of her dress and reaching over her shoulder, trying to grasp something. Then, as she turned her head, trying to see the back of her dress, she lost her balance and fell back into the pile of cushions again. Cor chuckled at the sight of Aravis once again struggling to become upright.

"Oh, for goodness sake, Cor!" Aravis cried, exasperated, once she managed to stand up again. "You might try helping me!"

Eyes twinkling, Cor strode over to her as she turned her back to him and pulled her long black hair in front of her shoulders.

Cor raised an eyebrow as he surveyed the back of her dress. "Goodness, Aravis. I didn't know it was possible to make such mess of a simple buttoning job."

"Just fix it, please, Cor?"

"Well, since you asked nicely…" He began re-buttoning the upper half of the top layer of her dress. It truly was a mess. Most of the buttons were in the wrong holes, and some of them were in backwards. In addition, some of Aravis's hair had caught on a few buttons and Cor had to resort to yanking on it.

"Ouch! What are you doing?" she yelped.

"Hold still." He yanked harder on one particularly stubborn lock of hair.

"Ouch! Cor, stop it!" She wrenched herself out of his grasp and rubbed her scalp.

"I'm trying to help!"

Aravis glared at him. "The last time I checked, buttoning a dress didn't involve ripping the hair out of my scalp!"

Cor clenched his fists and glared back at her. "It does if your hair is tangled hopelessly in your dress. And besides, I wasn't ripping the hair out of your scalp."

"I suppose the hair in your hand doesn't belong to me, then?"

Looking down at his tightly closed fingers, Cor saw that, indeed, a few strands of black hair dangled from them. He sighed and apologized. "I didn't mean to hurt you, Aravis. Look, do you want me to button your dress or not?"

With a huff, Aravis turned around and stood still while Cor finished fixing the back of her dress. He was as gentle as he possibly could be and Aravis managed to not make a sound when he accidentally pulled out more of her hair.

"Thank you," Aravis said grudgingly when he had finished.

"You're welcome…oh, Aravis?" he asked as she stood straightening her dress in front of a mirror.

"Yes, Cor?" She picked up a hairbrush and began pulling it through her tousled ebony locks.

"A messenger came and left a letter for you this morning. That's why I came up here in the first place."

She reached for the item he held out and surveyed it with interest. "Is it from Cair Paravel? I don't see the royal seal," she observed.

Cor shook his head. "I think it's from Tashbaan. A Calormene messenger brought it."

Aravis lifted an eyebrow. "A Calormene messenger in Archenland? They haven't made contact since the donkey incident."

Cor grinned. "He seemed to be uncomfortable, to say the least."

"I should think he would be, after the humiliation that was wrought on Rabadash and his army here." Aravis opened the unmarked letter and surveyed the signature at the bottom. Her eyes widened and her brow lifted higher.

"Cor," she said slowly as she lifted her eyes back to the top of the letter and began reading its contents. "Has the messenger left to go back to Calormen yet?"

Cor shook his head and studied her closely. "He's spending the night at Anvard."

"Good," was her absentminded reply. She sat down at a desk, now fully absorbed in the letter.

Cor remained in the room until it was clear that Aravis had forgotten his presence. Then, he exited the room with a shrug.

"I suppose if she wants me to know, she'll eventually tell me what the letter said." He mused as he wandered off to find Corin. Hopefully his twin wouldn't be in a boxing mood…Cor had seen a certain gleam in Corin's eyes that morning.

Cor was right. That night, Aravis very mysteriously summoned Cor and Corin to her chamber. With amusement, Cor observed that the room had been considerably tidied since he had been there that morning. The bed was made, the clothes had been replaced in the wardrobe, the tipped-over chair was upright, and Aravis reclined in a corner on the pile of cushions that had previously been at the foot of her bed.

Corin immediately crossed the room and flopped onto the cushions next to Aravis. As Cor followed suit, Aravis addressed them.

"I'm sure you're both wondering why I've called you here," she said with an important air.

"Oh, I simply assumed that you wanted the real story as to why the crown prince of Archenland showed up at dinner covered in dirt and with his clothes all ripped." Corin stated with a mischievous grin on his face. He winked at his twin.

Cor gritted his teeth and growled, "Not another word, Corin, or I'll-"

"You'll what? Knock me down? I think we've already established the fact that you are unable to do so."

"I was going to say that I'd challenge you to a sparring match in front of the entire royal court. But as for your suggestion, I'm sure that I'd be able to knock you down if Aravis would help me…" Cor looked pleadingly at the girl, who was watching the two of them with an indifferent expression on her face.

Aravis tossed her hair haughtily. "There is absolutely no reason why I should become involved in one of your quarrels."

"Why is that, Aravis?" Corin asked, an evil twinkle in his eyes. "You're constantly arguing with Cor, anyway."

The Tarkheena lifted a delicate eyebrow. "Are you trying to convince me to help Cor knock you down?" She asked, grasping a cushion.

"Don't take it the wrong way, Aravis," said Corin, oblivious to the slightly dangerous edge in Aravis's voice. "But I don't think you're capable knocking me down."

"But surely Cor and I together-"

Corin shook his head and interrupted her. "I'd knock him down first, and then you wouldn't have a chance to get close enough."

With a gleam in her eyes, Aravis clutched the cushion that she was grasping more tightly and said, "I don't need to get close, Corin." Before he had a chance to process what she had said, she lobbed the cushion at him. It hit him solidly in the head. Caught off guard, Corin tumbled backwards off the pile of cushions and onto the floor.

Cor chuckled. "After the egg incident, I'd have thought you would have learned that our dear Tarkheena can throw things with deadly accuracy, Corin."

As Corin regained his seat on the pile of cushions, he retorted, "I haven't had as much opportunity to learn about Aravis's throwing skills as you have, brother. After all, don't you have things thrown at you on a daily basis?"

"Actually, Corin, I haven't thrown anything at him for the past three days," said Aravis.

"Then apparently you've forgotten about the apple yest- oomph!" It was Cor's turn to receive a cushion in the face.

"The apple doesn't count," Aravis said, glaring, as Corin dissolved into snickers and Cor righted himself. "If your catching abilities weren't so awful, you never would have been hit."

"Well, even if the apple didn't count, that cushion just ended your record," Corin remarked.

"And it hit me quite harder than the apple, too," Cor said.

Aravis narrowed her eyes at her companions. "If you two are quite finished having fun at my expense, may I tell you why I called you in here?"

"By all means," said Corin, gesturing for her to continue.

"It's because of this," she said, holding up the letter that Cor had brought to her earlier. "It's from Tashbaan. Specifically, it's from my friend, Lasaraleen Tarkheena."

Cor wrinkled his forehead. "Isn't she the one who helped you to escape Tashbaan?"

"Yes," replied Aravis.

Before she could continue, Corin scrunched up his nose and said in a disgusted tone, "Oh, I remember her. She was one of the most self-centered, airheaded, gossipy Tarkheenas there."

Aravis sighed. "I know. But deep down inside, she really isn't that terrible." Corin looked unconvinced, but wisely kept his mouth shut as Aravis continued. "Anyway, she sent me this letter because she thinks I can help someone she knows."

"Who?" asked Corin, intrigued.

"I'm getting to that." Aravis glanced down at the letter. "There's a girl that is about to suffer a similar fate to the one I was able to avoid. Apparently, her parents have betrothed her to some Tarkaan, and she doesn't want to marry him. Las says that this girl heard about my escape to Archenland-"

"Our escape," Cor muttered.

"-and the girl wants to run away like I did, but she has no idea how to do so."

Cor narrowed his eyes suspiciously. "What exactly does Lasaraleen think you can do about it?"

She cleared her throat. "Well…"

Growing more suspicious by each second of Aravis's hesitation, he impatiently said, "Out with it, Aravis!"

"She wants me to come to Tashbaan and help her friend escape…" she said sheepishly.

"What?!"

"You heard what I said, Cor. I needn't repeat myself."

No one spoke for a moment as Cor sat tongue-tied and Aravis waited for him to speak. However, Corin soon shattered the uncomfortable silence with a loud exclaimation.

"This will be great!"

Aravis jumped slightly, startled by the outburst. "Whatever do you mean, Corin?" she asked, puzzlement written on her features.

The prince jumped up and waved his arms excitedly. "This is just the sort of thing we need – an adventure. It's been dreadfully dull around here lately…well, aside from you and Cor's quarrels." Aravis and Cor exchanged annoyed glances here. "I say," Corin said suddenly as he stopped swinging his arms. "Do you think we should bring Bree and Hwin? I'm sure they'd love to relive the old days. Of course it wouldn't be exactly the same, since I'd be with you, but still-"

"Corin!"

"What?" he asked, looking at his brother.

"By the Lion's mane, what are you on about?"

"Our trip to Tashbaan, of course. Where have you been the last few minutes?"

"We've been right here, Corin, and I don't think that Cor has any more recollection of a decision to go to Tashbaan than I have." Aravis said matter-of-factly.

Corin cocked his head to the side. "How else are you going to help that girl?"

"Well, I…" her voice trailed off.

"See? You don't know!"

"For goodness sake, Corin. We can't just up and tell Father that we're going to Tashbaan to help some girl that we've never met before and don't know the name of escape from her pending marriage."

"Who said anything about telling him?" Corin asked with a gleam in his eye.

Aravis drew herself up straight and tall. "For shame, Corin. Can you not see what a scandal that would be? The two princes of Archenland and the resident Tarkheena sneaking off to Calormen!"

"Who cares about how scandalous it would be, Aravis? That girl needs help!"

"I know," she said, then cast her eyes downward and intently studied the hem of her dress. "That's why I'm going to Tashbaan."

"What, Aravis? You can't go to Tashbaan alone! If you're so worried about creating a scandal, how about one where a young girl under the protection of the king runs off by herself to Calormen?"

"Besides, you might be recognized by anyone in Tashbaan." Cor pointed out. " Why, you could find yourself right back in the same place you were before we escaped. They could force you to marry Ahoshta, and there'd be no getting out of it. There'd be no Hwin to carry you off to Archenland, Aravis."

"I'm willing to take that risk, Cor." Aravis stated stubbornly. "I remember how I felt when I was in the same position as Lasaraleen's friend. I want to help."

"Then I'm going with you. Don't try to stop me," he warned. "I'll tell Father everything if you do!"

"Oh, that's low, Cor," she paused for a moment, seeming to mull things over. "Very well, you may come. It will be an easier journey with a companion, anyway."

"Then it's settled!" Corin exclaimed. "We'll leave for Tashbaan tomorrow night!"

Aravis and Cor stared at him. "What makes you think you're coming?" Cor asked.

Corin crossed his arms smugly. "Because I have just as much power to tell Father about this as you do. There is no way I'm missing out on this. Besides, you may need my fists."

Cor groaned. "The last thing we need is you getting into some scrape in Tashbaan!"

Aravis put a hand on his arm. "We don't have any choice. Corin, you may come, but you're going to have to follow any rules I make. Rule number one: there will be absolutely no boxing on this venture!"

"What! You may as well tell me to stop breathing!"

"I mean it, Corin," she said sternly. "No boxing!"

"Fine." Then his countenance brightened considerably. With a wicked gleam in his eyes, he said, "There are other ways of knocking a person down – like when you snag his tunic on his horse's saddle before he mounts. Right, Cor?"

"Oh, that does it!" Cor sprang at his twin, intent on pinning him to the ground.

Corin laughed maniacally and scrambled out of Cor's reach. Cor lost his balance and fell face-first to the ground. Meanwhile, Corin jumped up on Aravis's bed and bounced around like a little child, chanting in a sing-song voice, "You can't catch me!"

"Would you two stop acting like children?" asked Aravis, exasperated. "Honestly…oh!" she gasped as Cor grabbed his brother's ankle and yanked it. Corin landed unceremoniously in a heap on the floor, while it was Cor's turn to laugh madly. Soon, the chase began again, this time with Cor on the run. However, it didn't last long, for the two boys had to stop rather abruptly when Aravis deliberately planted herself in their path.

"Don't touch him, Corin!" she barked fiercely as the prince lifted a foot to trip his brother. Needless to say, he immediately set his foot down and stood at attention.

"Now, I have just one thing to say to the both of you," she paused, then allowed herself a small smirk. And before either prince knew what was happening, Aravis walloped both of them with two cushions that she held. Then, she smiled innocently at her astonished companions. "We have plans to make," she stated, then, her head held high and her back ramrod straight, she fluidly strode back to the pile of cushions in the corner.

Cor and Corin stared at her for a moment, then glanced briefly at each other before shrugging and following the Tarkheena. There was, after all, a great adventure ahead of them.

Three days later, in Tashbaan, Lasaraleen Tarkheena was in the process of choosing a gown for the night's party when her messenger returned. He handed her a letter, then bowed and backed out of the room. With interest, Lasaraleen quickly broke the seal and scanned the three words that it contained.

We are coming.