"How old is she

"How old is she?"

"She's around your age, Lu."

The she in question was, in fact, 17.

Peter himself had met her before, her name was Samantha. She was the daughter of a king, the sole ruler of a very small country. The country was being annexed by Narnia because the king had died and there was no ruler-that had been four year ago, when Samantha was too young to rule.

"Well, where will she sleep?"

"She'll have to share with one of us," Peter said, "but who? We each have one extra bedroom, and mine's not even got a bed in it. It's full of armour and weapons."

"Mine's got my easel and paints in it, and that's the only window with good enough light," Lucy protested. "She can't stay with me, either."

"What about you, Susan?" Peter asked.

"You know that's Caspian's room."

Peter smacked his forehead, Edmund rolled his eyes, and Lucy giggled.

Edmund rolled his eyes because nary a week went by with Caspian staying 'for the night' and winding up there for three days. He insisted he was journeying to 'faraway lands' on vitally 'important business' and he stayed for three nights at a time because 'he's gone much faster than expected' and it didn't make any sense for him to go on to 'inhospitable countries' for more time than needed.

Peter smacked him forehead because he knew the same thing, and Lucy giggled because she was the only who knew that Caspian's bed was completely unnecessary. Granted, he slept in Susan's bed, but all clothes stayed ON, thank you.

"What about you, Ed? What's in your extra room?"

Edmund looked up from mutilating his scrambled eggs; they were indeed discussing this over breakfast because Samantha was arriving that afternoon.

"I don't use it; it's just a spare bedroom…"

"Perfect! She'll stay with you."

"What? Who'll stay with me? Why don't I get a say in this?"

"She's got to, Edmund," Lucy pointed out. "It's either the spare room or YOUR bed."

Peter and Susan bit their lips to keep from laughing.

"Does she have to?" Edmund was 21, but he still looked like a whiny child when he wanted to.

"Yes. So it's settled, then?" Peter said pointedly.

"Fine," Edmund grumbled, then skulked away.

Kicking his door open, still mad at Peter and the others for dumping this newcomer on him, Edmund flopped onto his huge, cushy bed and stared at the ceiling. Inside him, a battle was waging between reason and stuborness.

She can't be that bad, Reason said, she won't even be in your bedroom.

Sure, but she's still in my space, Childishness said.

I bet she's pretty.

I bet she's a simpering child.

Like you are right now.

Shut up.

Wow, Ed. You lost a battle to yourself.

I also won, since you're part of me too.

I bet she's gorgeous.

What, are you looking forward to this?

So are you, remember? As you pointed out, both Reason and Childishness are part of you.

Edmund rolled over and put a pillow over his head, hoping it would block out the voices. He got up and began to straighten his room. He picked the clothes off the floor, wondering where the maid was when he needed her.

Edmund wandered into the spare room. It looked cold and bare, unlived-in. He opened the drapes, lifted down a bright blue blanket from the closet, spread the blanket over the bed, and went outside. He plucked a wildflower, big and sunny yellow, and set it in a glass vase on the spare room's dresser.

He wondered where all this kindness was suddenly coming from, and got the distinct feeling that somewhere deep inside him, Reason was laughing.