1
The Offer

Edmund stared at the woman incredulously. Had she just left the local pub? Or a dark alley with even darker characters? Had she just escaped the local mental institution? What could have possessed her to continue demanding to know what kind of creature he was?

"No, Your Majesty," said Edmund as un-ironically as possible. "I have never had a beard and neither am I a dwarf. I'm a boy."

"A boy!" Her eyes were wide with surprise. This must all be a figment of Lucy's imagination, and Edmund had been sucked into the madness with her; there was no way anyone was this utterly misinformed. "Do you mean you are a Son of Adam?"

Edmund continued to stare in disbelief. "My father's name is—"

"I see you are an idiot, whatever else you may be," she interrupted, waving her hand dismissively. Of course. He was the idiot. "Answer me once and for all or I shall lose my patience. Are you human?"

"Of course, Your Majesty. I-I don't know what else I could be," he said.

"And how, pray tell, did you come to enter my dominions?"

Edmund blinked, contemplating lying because he'd probably be thrown in whatever dungeon they house the insane if he admitted that he came through a wardrobe. His hesitation was too long.

"Tell me!" she shrieked, the whiteness of her dress and face suddenly clouding over with grey.

"Through the wardrobe!" Edmund blurted out, taken aback by the shocking change in both demeanor and appearance. "The wardrobe, Your Majesty. I came through the wardrobe."

"A wardrobe? What do you mean?" she asked, eyes narrowed.

Edmund gulped and shrugged, trying to calm his nerves. "I opened a door and just found myself here, Your Majesty."

The Queen scoffed. "A door… A door from the world of men. I have heard of such things." Her voice dropped as she turned away, staring off into the distance. "This may wreck all my plans, but he is only one and easily dealt with."

Yes. Edmund could almost hear the orderlies calling for the missing patient.

He was roused from reflecting on the woman's sanity when she suddenly rose from her seat, her eyes flaming as she raised the glass baton in her hand slowly. He was sure something very unpleasant was about to happen, but fear and panic rooted him to the spot, all disparaging thoughts fleeing from his mind. Just as swiftly as she'd gotten up, her demeanor shifted.

"My poor child," she cooed. "You look so cold! Come and sit with me here on the sledge, and I will put my mantle 'round you. Then we shall talk."

Despite the combination of disbelief and bewilderment he had for this woman, the dominating force that gripped him was currently fear. Crazy or not, this white-garbed, platinum blond-haired woman was intimidating. He had no other choice but to obey. So Edmund stepped onto the sledge and sat at her feet, and she put a fold of her fur mantle around him and tucked it in.

"Perhaps you'd like something hot to drink?" she asked. "Warm the blood?"

"Yes, please, Your Majesty," he answered cautiously.

The Queen pulled out a small copper bottle and held it out over the ground. She poured one drop out onto the white snow, and Edmund saw the drop hang in the air for a single second, a shimmering diamond in the sunlight, before it dropped and hissed against the snow. A steaming jeweled cup materialized when the drop had been. The real dwarf dropped down, gingerly picked it up, and handed it to Edmund with a bow and a fake, painful smile.

Edmund tentatively took a drink and felt the liquid slide down his throat. Sweet, foamy, and creamy, it warmed him all the way down to his numb, frostbitten toes.

"It is dull, Son of Adam, to drink without eating," she said pleasantly. "What would you like to eat?"

Edmund met her cold blue eyes. Perhaps she wasn't an escaped mental patient or even a figment of Lucy's eventual mental breakdown. The product of her magic was in his hands. That itself could explain away her strange questions. The warmth of the drink had melted some of his fear and restored his boldness. "Turkish Delight, please, Your Majesty."

The Queen let another drop fall from her bottle, and a round box tied with a green silk ribbon appeared, housing several pounds of the finest Turkish Delight. Each piece was sweet and light to very center, and Edmund had never tasted anything more delicious, each bite infusing him with warmth and comfort.

While he was gorging himself silly, the Queen kept peppering him with questions. At first, Edmund tried to remember that it was rude to speak with an occupied mouth, but he soon forgot all about propriety with the thought of only shoveling down as much Turkish Delight as he could. The more he ate, the more he wanted to eat, and he couldn't hold his suspicions of the Queen's inquisitive nature for too long. She somehow managed to make him tell her about his siblings, Lucy's previous foray into Narnia with the faun, and that no one except himself and his siblings knew a thing about Narnia. In spite of all that information, she just kept coming back to the fact that there were four of them.

"You are sure there are just four of you?" she asked. "There are two Sons of Adam and two Daughters of Eve—neither more nor less?"

The Turkish Delight kept him too preoccupied to answer with his characteristic sass. "Yes, Your Majesty."

At last, all the Turkish Delight was gone, and Edmund stared at the box intently, willing it to refill itself through sheer power of will.

"Son of Adam, I should so much like to see your brother and sisters," she said, pulling him from his longing reverie. "Will you bring them to see me?"

"I'll try," mumbled Edmund, still entirely too preoccupied with the empty box.

"Because if you did come again—bringing them with you, of course—I'd be able to give you more Turkish Delight. I can't do it now, for the magic will only work once. It would be another matter in my house."

"Why can't we go there now?" asked Edmund hopefully, finally tearing his gaze away from the container in his hands.

"It is a lovely place, my house," she mused. "I'm sure you would like it. There are whole rooms full of Turkish Delight—kitchens that will work for days on end to make more. What's more, I have no children of my own. I want a nice boy to bring up as a prince and who would be king of Narnia when I am gone. While he was a prince, he would wear a golden crown and eat Turkish Delight all day long." She turned to him with a wry smile. "And you are very much the cleverest and most handsome young man I've ever met. I think I would like to make you prince someday…when you bring the others to visit me."

The sugar-induced haze of the sweets was heavy, but a few keywords managed to seep through the cracks of the trance of his hunger. Blinking and collecting his thoughts, Edmund frowned and looked up at the Queen suspiciously.

"A prince?"

"Of course—I have neither husband nor heir. And a boy from a good, strong family such as yours would be ideal."

Edmund could almost feel his stomach rumbling in spite of the fact that he felt full. However, the burning need for more Turkish Delight was beginning to fade the longer he dwelled on the prospect of becoming a prince. "You…can do magic. Would I be able to learn too?

The Queen's eyes narrowed. "Of course. My heir should know the art and beauty of magic. I shall make you my apprentice and teach you all I know of the arts. And more…"

Edmund's fascination with Turkish Delight ebbed as the slow smile spread across his face. "Consider my brother and sisters brought, Your Majesty," he said as he stood.

She suddenly grabbed onto his wrist and turned to point to two hills rising just above the tops of the trees. "You see those hills? My house lies in the valley just between them. Next time you come, you have only to find the lamp-post and look for those two hills and walk through the wood 'til you reach my house. But remember—you must bring the others with you. I might have to be very angry with you if you came alone."

Edmund resisted the urge to scowl as he stepped off the sledge. Her fixation on his siblings was irritating and actually quite off-putting.

"What is your name, young human?" she asked.

"Edmund, Your Majesty."

"Prince Edmund of Narnia, I bid you farewell," she announced. "And by the way, you needn't tell them about me. It would be fun to keep it secret between the two of us, won't it? Like a…surprise. Just bring them along to the two hills. A clever boy like yourself will easily think of some excuse for doing that. And when you come to my house, you could say, 'Let's see who lives here' or something to that effect. I'm sure it'd be best. If your sister has indeed met a faun, she may have heard malicious, cruel stories about me. Fauns will say just anything to hold the attention of an audience, you know—notorious for embellishment and lies. And now, 'til next time. Come soon."

She signaled for the dwarf to drive off, and Edmund watched as the sledge faded in between the dense woods. He was still staring when he heard someone call his name. He turned just as Lucy nearly collided with him.

"Edmund!" cried Lucy, eyes bright and grin wide. "You got in too! Isn't it wonderful?"

He smirked. Wonderful indeed.