"Are you awake?"
Lilliandil's voice comes as a surprise. They have been hours at bed, and her breathing was deep and constant. Caspian used it as his anchor and his ground, the soft reminder of a life he has earned and cared for.
He debates between an honest answer and evading her innocent question, pondering for how long he can get away without confronting her and his thoughts.
"I can't sleep."
It's the truth, and though he answers he's not being honest. It's not that he can't sleep so much as he doesn't want to close his eyes and let himself travel between worlds, playing a song of treachery by running away in his dreams.
She doesn't press further, but the tension Lilliandil feels reaches him. Caspian sighs. There is no other way around it; his wife needs to know.
"I still love her," he whispers. "If I close my eyes I can see her, bow in hand and the ever-ready arrow. The horn is at her hip, tied to her by a belt made of leather. The sun is on her hair, on her eyes… She is smiling, but not at me. I can't do this to you."
Caspian lets his last words invade her, but instead of anger or resentment, what he feels is Lillandil's hand wrapping around his under the sheets.
"I know, Caspian," she tells him, and her voice if filled with confidence and patience. "I've known since I saw you for the first time, and I know you will always love her no matter what. But she's gone, and I'm here."
To another, that might have been the end, but not for them. Never for them, because they both share the same thought of a future bright and anew.
"Tell me, Lilliandil, what will become of us -of me- the day we are called to Aslan's Country and I find her?"
Lilliandil speaks again. "Never doubt our love, Caspian. That is all I ask."
Then silence overcomes them, and for now, that is the answer Caspian has.