Chapter One

King Peter strode along the castle ramparts, his eyes scanning the night sky. It seemed to be getting darker in Narnia as of late. He sighed, his cape fluttering behind him as a breeze picked up. He met Glenstorm, who was at his post in the eastern end of the castle. The centaur looked somber as Peter approached.

"Good evening, your majesty," he said, inclining his head.

Peter smiled. "You never have to bow to me, my friend."

Glenstorm smiled slightly, but grew serious.

"I'm worried, my King." His gaze lifted back up to the sky. "The stars are all in shadow…something's coming...something evil."

Peter looked up to the dark sky and, too, felt that something malevolent was invading the peace that had just settled over Narnia. A sigh escaped his lips; he remembered the last time he had this feeling. It was before the battle against the White Witch. But he felt no winter chill at his back, just a deepening shadow in his soul.


She slowly pushed open the doors to her chamber, hands on both sides of the twin ebony doors. The room was just as she remembered, in essence anyway. Everything stood where it once was, but covered in dust. The years had worn away the tapestries; holes had formed on the blankets of her bed.

She moved into the room, broken glass from her many mirrors crunched beneath her booted feet. There was one thing still intact, like time never touched it. Her three-mirrored vanity stood at the far end of the room, black wood flawless, glass still intact. She sat down before it.

Her weary reflection greeted her. Everything about her was dark, black, and dangerously perfect. She smiled at the thought. She then frowned as she turned her profile. The scar started at the tip of her pale forehead, traveled down her right cheek, and down to her jaw line. She brought her hand up to her face, gently tracing the scar with a long-nailed finger.

It was what marked her fall. She received it the day her reign ended and she was banished from the earthly realm. The scar hadn't faded since that day, its brilliance reminding her of how far she had fallen. She clenched her fist. She would have her revenge and all of Narnia would pay.


Susan hummed softly as she relaxed in the soothing waters of her bath. She leaned back and relaxed against her husband. Caspian trailed his hand down her until his hand was on top of hers. He laced his fingers in between hers and kissed her head.

They got out of the bath after a while, both ravenous for food after their many sessions of love making throughout the day. They dressed in as little as they could; he just a pair of pants, she a chemise. They headed to the kitchen.

Caspian rummaged around and found some eggs, bread, bacon, and fresh fruit. The King cracked the eggs into a pan over a small fire and threw the shell away. He turned to his Queen and smiled.

"Soon my love," he said, drawing her to him, "we will have a feast."

Susan smiled and wrapped her arms around his neck. She kissed him briefly.

"That sounds wonderful, my dear."

Caspian leaned down and kissed her again. Susan moaned a little and Caspian growled, deepening their kiss. They let the kiss overtake them, letting the world drift away. Until they smelled smoke.

"Oh no!" Susan cried as they broke the kiss and saw the eggs burning in the pan.

Caspian laughed and broke away from Susan, snatching the pan up from the fire and tossing them outside.

"Well, so much for that, my love," he said, smiling in apology.

Susan picked up a grape from the pantry and sauntered over to him. She lifted it to his lips. He opened his mouth and she gently pushed the grape inside. Caspian surprised her by taking her fingertip into his mouth and gently sucking on it. A wicked smile crossed her features and she arched an eyebrow.

"Shall we continue our feast later?" she asked.

His arms came around her waist and anchored her against him.

"Definitely."