The years passed and Caspian and Gregoire grew into fine young men ready to serve Narnia. However it was Isadora's development which caused more interest, especially among the young men of the court. She had grown from a pretty child into a gorgeous young woman. She had all the beauty and grace of a true Telmarine woman but her sharp eyes and sharper tongue were her father's and her father's alone.

She still received schooling with Caspian from Dr Cornelius, the tutor her father had procured. Together they were schooled in literacy, mathematics and the history of their great nation. They were also supposed to study astronomy but Isadora refused to climb to the summit of the tallest tower of the castle just to watch a few far away twinkling lights. Her bed was much too comfortable.

Therefore only Caspian made the climb to the astronomy lessons. She asked him if they were interesting and he laughed mildly and told her she would find them dull. Her pursuits were different to his after all.

Very different.

She paused by the door and examined her reflection in a polished shield. She tugged her dress down an extra bit so her breasts swelled invitingly in her bodice and smoothed a few errant pieces of hair behind her ears. Were the red lips overkill? If her mother caught her looking like this again then she would be viciously scrubbed and then stuffed into a dress more suited for Ghaliya. Their mother was due to give them a little brother soon and she was feeling especially tempestuous. Irking Prunaprismia was never wise anyway but - when she was eight months gone, hot, and tired of being pregnant - it wasn't the best idea to annoy her.

To her father she would always be Isadora Turtle Dove but her mother could see past that. Her mother knew she was growing up.

If she moved fast then it would be fine.

She left the safety of the castle and marched across the courtyard with determination. The stables were their usual hustle and bustle of activity but she slipped easily between the horses and the groomsmen. There was her object of desire and he was tending to Destrier, Caspian's horse. Perfect.

"You must be rising fast through the stables' hierarchy if you are allowed to care for our Prince's horse," she said. He turned and looked at her. His eyes slipped down to her momentarily enhanced cleavage and her heart beat a little faster.

Tobias was his name and he was the newest of the stable's staff. He had arrived with the new Lord Oroitz of Ettinsmoor and had quickly attracted the attention of all the younger ladies of the court. Isadora had heard the comments and giggles and she instantly knew that she had to lay a claim on him before anyone else could.

"I am very trustworthy, Lady Isadora," he said with a charming grin. She bit the inside of her cheek to stop herself grinning like an idiot as he said her name. He knew who she was!

Oh, don't be a fawning, lovesick fool, Dor, of course he knows who you are, she reminded herself crossly.

She met his suggestive gaze with a coy smile and followed him into an empty stall.

Almost an hour later, she lurched back into the castle giggling wildly to herself. She paused by the same shield she had previously checked her appearance in and scrutinised herself once again. Well, the red stain on her lips was long gone and her carefully coiffed hair was a mess of tangles. She pulled a piece of straw out and giggled again.

"My goodness, Dor, you look a mess," a voice said from further up the hallway. She turned and pouted playfully as Caspian walked towards her; completely missing the disdain in his eyes.

"Well, don't you sound like my mother," she said. "Am I not allowed to have any fun?"

His eyes slid over her mussed face, her tangled hair and her hay-covered dress. "I think our definitions of fun vary," he said shortly.

She cackled and slung an arm around his neck. "Now, I must ask," she said, "what do you think of Nerea? Because she has been pining for you for some time now and it is really getting quite pathetic. I'd be much obliged if you wrote her a little love-note. Please?"

He glared down at her. "No. I have no feelings for Nerea whatsoever and I'd rather not give her any false hope. I don't like the little courtship games you play with your friends."

She rolled her eyes and retrieved her arm. "By the Eagle, Caspian. The stars will fall from the heavens before you fall in love."

"Love?" he said coldly, his eyebrows arching. "What you do, Isadora, can in no way be described as love."

The sunny mood Tobias had thrust her in with his passionate kisses and gentle touch vanished in an instant. Why was Caspian being so difficult? He sounded like a parent; not her cousin and closest friend. What next, was he going to tell her how to style her hair and what dress best suited a young girl of noble birth like herself?

"Stop it," she said, marching away. He followed.

"You are lucky your father is the man he is!" he said. "Any other girl would have been remonstrated a long time ago! But you are can do no wrong and he lets you run wild, Turtle Dove!"

She whirled around and hit her hands off his chest like a spoilt child. They did no damage at all; she wasn't that strong and his muscles had been hardened by hours of swordplay and military drills.

"Only... Father... Calls... Me... Turtle... Dove!" she snarled with each punch. Infuriatingly, he merely stood there and let her work out her frustration.

"My point exactly, Dor. You are spoilt and one day you are going to get a nasty shock when something doesn't go your way," he said, almost sadly. She stumbled backwards away from him and drew herself to her full height. The most penetrating glare she had learned from her mother entered her eye and even her dishevelled appearance could not detract from the ferocity of her gaze.

She ruined it by saying in a churlish voice, "Things always go my way."

As Caspian walked off, shaking his head in defeat at her stubbornness, she spun on her heel and stalked to her room.

He was impossible! He was the only boy she could never fool and the only person who dared to speak back to her. She wasn't spoiled; she was beloved by everyone! There was all the difference in the world!

She crossed to the window and rested her head against the glass. Down in the courtyard she espied Tobias leading a horse and she stood on tip-toe so he could stay in her eye-line for a few seconds longer. He stopped and, as if he knew by some sixth sense, turned and looked up at her window. He grinned and she stepped back quickly.

A stupid little smile sprang onto her face and she felt her cheeks grow warm. How peculiar...

Their little fling lasted some weeks.

Much to her mother's surprise, Isadora suddenly developed a passion for riding and built an early morning ride into her daily routine. Luckily, Prunaprismia was far too along in her pregnancy for her to accompany her daughter and Miraz was much too busy to chaperone her. They insisted that she go with someone and Tobias was more than happy enough to volunteer.

She knew it was silly; she was a lady of the court, granddaughter of Caspian VIII and a descendant of the Bloodline of the Bow. Hers was one of the finest pedigrees one could find and his was nothing. He was, to be blunt, a nobody.

But he made her laugh and he made her smile and he made her heart beat faster than anyone ever had before. When it was just the two of them, he wasn't a servant. He was a friend, he was a lover, and he was an equal.

Even after their morning trysts, she found herself making up excuses and little errands that would keep her in the vicinity of the stables. He filled her every thought. Being apart from him caused an ache in her chest unlike anything she had ever felt before and being with him caused a relief to seep through her and soothe her nerves.

One night, lying in bed and unable to sleep, she decided it was too much to bear. She quietly arose and threw a cloak over her nightgown. Through her family's quarters, down all the twisting stairs, along the moonlit corridors, across the courtyard and up the narrow staircase beside the stables she crept.

Running along the length of the stable's attic were the stablehands' quarters. The younger boys all slept together in a dormitory at the far end of the corridor but the more senior boys and men each had their own private cell. Isadora knew exactly which one belonged to Tobias; tonight was not the first time she had visited. Last time he had met her at the foot of the stairs but she couldn't see a reason why he would turn her away tonight.

A light pooled from underneath his door and, as she neared, she could hear the low murmur of voices. Just as she got close enough to hear them clearly, her foot landed on a loose floorboard.

SKREEE!

She froze; her heart beating wildly.

"What was that?" a female voice said. What? Another girl? Why was another girl in there?

"Probably just someone on the way to use the pot," Tobias' smooth voice reassured. "We're fine. No-one is going to disturb us."

There was a quiet snort.

"You sound like you know what you are talking about. How many girls have you had up here? Has that snobby noble brat you are soft on been up here?" the girl asked.

Isadora's face burned in the darkness. Brat? Snobby?! By the Eagle, was that girl talking about her?

"No, she hasn't," Tobias lied. "She isn't as special as you."

The low smack of lip on lip permeated through the door and she broke out in a cold sweat.

"Not special?" a voice yelled as the door to the cell was thrown open. She blinked and realised it had been her voice that had shouted and it had been she who had thrown open the door.

The two on the narrow bed started and scrambled for a blanket to cover their nakedness. She barely noticed the skinny creature glancing between Tobias and herself with raised eyebrows; all she could focus on was Tobias' face. There was not a shred of guilt there; his face was like a blank mask.

She turned to run but he'd risen from the bed and grabbed her arm.

"Let me go!" she screamed and tried to strike him with her free arm.

"Eagle feathers, Dor, would you calm down," he begged as other doors along the hall opened and the bleary faces of the other stablehands emerged.

"No, no! How dare you!" she screamed and tore her arm from his grasp. "I am not Dor to you."

"Then I think her ladyship might be a bit lost," the other girl said snarkily. "What reason could a well-bred young lady such as yourself have for mingling with us lowly staff?"

Isadora's face burned again as sniggers broke out from the other stablehands. She could have slapped the smirk right off the other girl and then walked out with her head high.

But she didn't.

She burst into tears, turned tail, and ran.

"Get out!"

There was a thunk as the bolt slammed into the open door. Ghaliya straightened up and fixed her older sister with a withering glare. She was well-practiced at dodging Isadora's crossbow. She knew her sister was actually an excellent shot but all hell would break loose if she actually hurt someone with it.

"I said, get out!" Isadora screamed, rearing up on the bed with the bow in her hands. She began to load a new bolt while Ghaliya stared at her coolly.

"He's betrothed to Jolia now," she said in a sing-song voice. "They are going to buy a farm."

"Out!" her sister roared again and lifted the bow. With a cackle, Ghaliya danced to the side and slammed the door behind her just as the bolt ploughed into the wood again. There was a pause and then a crack appeared in the door.

"He'd never want you anyway, you look such a mess!" her sister sang and Isadora screeched again. The door snapped shut again and she threw herself back on the bed with a wail. The wail turned into a sob and once again she found herself bawling. Her. Crying her eyes out over a boy. She had fallen for him, she knew she had, and part of this completely hysterical reaction of hers was because she was angry with herself for allowing herself to fall.

How could he have done that to her? Wasn't she beautiful? Wasn't she enough for him? Why, why, why?!

And all the other stable staff knew. They had seen her run away and they had heard her scream at him. What was worse, they were amongst the worst of the gossipers in the entirety of the staff. She also guessed that the wretch he had been canoodling with was a maid so, naturally, all the others knew about it as well. She had sent her own maid away without letting her tidy her room; the girl's smug smirk had been too much for her to bear. Ghastly Ghaliya must have overheard some of them laughing about it as they cleaned the girls' quarters; there was no other way she could possibly have found out.

The door opened again.

"Ghaliya, get out or this time I will aim for your head!" she bawled, her face pressed into her pillow. An icy silence followed.

"I never want to hear you say that again, Isadora," her mother said in an imperious voice. She peeked under her arm.

Her mother, Lady Prunaprismia, was standing in the doorway with an expression that could curdle milk. One hand rested on the door handle and the other under the great swell of her stomach and she looked as beautiful as ever, despite the look on her face.

"I want you to get up, now, and stop this incessant moping. You have been abed for too long," she said crossly.

Isadora sat up and pushed her crossbow aside. Did her mother know?

"I'm sorry, Mother," she said, wiping her red eyes. Her lip wobbled and fresh tears ran down her cheeks. "Oh, Mother, I thought he liked me," she sobbed.

Prunaprismia watched her for a moment and then crossed to the bed and pulled her eldest into a tight embrace.

"So this is what this is about," she said softly. "My Dor's first heartbreak."

They sat for a while, mother holding daughter, until Isadora finally stopped crying. One hand trailed across her mother's belly and she smiled as she felt the baby kick. Her mother groaned.

"Your brother is a fighter like his father yet he is quite happy to make us wait for his arrival," she grunted and shifted on the bed so she was slightly more comfortable. Isadora didn't say anything.

"You know," her mother continued, "I was about your age when my father brought me to court for the first time. After being presented to the King, I stood in the corner and I felt completely lost and overwhelmed; court was very different from our manor house in the south after all. Then from nowhere, your father asked me to dance. He was the most handsome man I had ever seen and I fell deeply in love with him. What I didn't know was that the King had made him dance with me and it was a very long time before I saw my love returned."

Her daughter sniffed. "I didn't know that," she said thickly.

"Maybe I'll tell you more someday, but my point is perhaps there is hope for you and your young man," Prunaprismia added.

"No. He is nobody," Isadora said darkly. "I never want to see him again."

Her mother sighed again and stroked her daughter's hair.

"That, at least, we can do," she said.

The search for Lady Prunaprismia's missing jewels was quickly ended when General Glozelle found them concealed in the belongings of the stablehand Tobias. He was flogged for his impudence, despite his protesting his innocence, and forced to leave the castle penniless and jobless.

Shortly afterwards, it was announced that the Lady Prunaprismia had delivered her third child. Lord Miraz was now father to a third little girl, Marisela, named for her late paternal grandmother.

AN: So here we are, small jump in time, and the beginnings of Isadora's flings. Tsk tsk. We also have a small introduction to Ghaliya who was only supposed to be a minor character. However, through re-writes she has actually ended up as one of my favourites.

I am considering writing the story of Miraz and Prue, mainly because I have never seen anything on here in the line that I want to follow, but I have three parts to get through first, just of Isadora's arc, and not a great track record with finishing fics, haha!

Thank you to everyone who followed/favourited last chapter, and to HPnarnia1 and Wildhorses1492 for reviewing! Please let me know what you thought of this chapter, guys!