Disclaimer: I don't own Narnia or any characters you may recognize from the books or the movies, I wish I did but I don't... I also don't own the Narnian Calendar. It belongs to Elecktrum who was kind enough to let me borrow it for my story. Her own stories are awesome and you should go read them too.

Summary: A sorcerer challenged by Aslan. Love and friendship alike are tested by his presence. And the Gentle Queen faces her own challenge when the sorcerer's true colors are unveiled.

A/N: If you have not read the first eight stories in the A Light in the Darkness main story arc (Awakened, Shadowed, Revealed, Concealed, Rekindled, Refracted, Reflected, and Veiled), I highly recommend you do so for the full experience. However, I have included a quick summary of the previous stories so if you want to give this one a whirl on its own, you can.

Chapter Four: Fool's Court

Oreius pulled out the files and checked the notes that were covered in a pretty script. Alambiel's notes on past candidates for the royal guards for the Queens should suffice. Two of the candidates he set aside immediately, remembering quite well how irritated his wife had been when she was evaluating them, and she would never tolerate their presence among her expanded guard. He still needed to inform her that she could no longer rely on Ptah alone for her personal guard. But that task he had continued to put off.

He sighed as he set quill to parchment and began compiling the names of the soldiers he could trust most with the task of protecting Alambiel. When she learned of his actions, he had no doubt that she would be stubborn and petulant and kick up her heels with as much fuss as she had the last time he had broached the topic, shortly after her heritage had become public knowledge. He had conceded the matter then but now… Oreius added two more names to the list. The note he had found only reaffirmed the need for Alambiel's guard to be increased. What sort of husband would he be if he failed to do everything in his power to protect her?

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27 Greenroof 1009

"Kat, there you are!"

"What's the matter, Lucy?"

Lucy looped her arm through Alambiel's, tugging her toward the conservatory. "You better hurry. Susan needs your help."

"Umm," she glanced over her shoulder, once again noting the presence of a sleek Ocelot, one of Vardan Windwolf's daughters, and a brown Satyr with corkscrew horns trailing in their wake. "Which one is bothering her?"

"Ambassador Terril's nephew. The one who talks too much."

"Drats." Alambiel arched an eyebrow. "Is he singing again?"

Lucy's dramatic shudder was almost enough to make her lose her attempt at mimicking a responsible and very boring adult. The ambassador and his nephews had been a bit too interested in her after they had wandered into the training yard while she was beating Peter and Edmund (Tarrin had already been declared dead). It was never good when the ambassadors started to guess how well she fought; not to mention it ruined the advantage she gained through surprise. Boring and responsible was the best tactic now.

"Worse. He's reciting poetry. Don't laugh, Kat. He was rhyming rose with nose when I left to get you."

Alambiel snickered. "Please tell me the nose was smelling the rose."

"No." Lucy pressed her lips together but a smile broke free anyway. "He said Susan's nose was formed like a perfect red, err, white rose."

She stopped in her tracks, automatically reaching up to touch the tip of her own nose. "A rose?" Lucy nodded. Alambiel dissolved into laughter, wrapping her arms around her ribs as she looked away from Lucy in a vain attempt to keep her composure. The younger Queen's giggles joined hers until they were both leaning against the nearest wall, breathless and tears streaming down their reddened cheeks. Alambiel ran her hands over her hair, trying to distract herself from the unfortunate and hilarious mental image of poor Susan with a rose blooming where her nose should be. It wasn't working.

A nudge to her leg made her look down. Ptah was watching her, his ochre eyes bright and his whiskers twitching as he grinned. "Your Highness, you are late for meeting the Gentle."

"Poor Susan," Alambiel murmured as she straightened then swiped at the tears. "Maybe you should bite this one, Ptah."

The Leopard wrinkled his broad nose. "I don't like the taste."

"Too much spice?"

"Too much oil. It leaves a very unpleasant taste for days at a time." Ptah twitched his tail then added, "And the Sons of Adam make too much noise even over a light nip."

A soft derisive snort came from where the three new guards had stopped in a rather unsubtle cluster. Alambiel frowned at them but they didn't say a word as they all feigned an identical fascination with surveying the corridor. Turning back to Lucy, she smiled. "Well, even without Ptah's bite as a potential deterrent, I shall make sure that Lord…Lord, wait, which one is always talking? Derrick or Terrick?"

"I think it's Derrick." Lucy lowered her voice to the softest of whispers and added, "Terrick is the one who's so fascinated with you."

Alambiel frowned. "I really need to introduce him to Oreius."

Blue eyes widening, Lucy stared at her in silence then another smile danced across her pink lips. "You aren't going to introduce him to Chrysaor?"

"No. He'd probably propose the moment the sword came out. Much easier to use the Kentauri. It's one of the perks of marrying him." She patted Lucy's shoulder. "Go on, I'll make sure Susan can blame me for any diplomatic Murphy moments."

"You're not supposed to let those happen, Kat."

Alambiel just grinned and continued down the corridor. Ptah stayed at her side but she was confident that the new additions to the Queens' guard would either follow Lucy (not that Babet the Wolverine sow currently on duty would need much help) or array themselves in the conservatory to watch over Susan. The nephew they assumed was Derrick's baritone voice reached her ears as soon as she entered the room. "…and your eyes are shaped like blue lilies in a clear spring pond. And your eyes, I mean, your ears are seashells studded with golden tears."

And this is why I've been avoiding Derrick. Alambiel bit the inside of her cheek to keep from laughing at the poor man's attempted poetry or maybe it should just be considered attempted flattery because calling it poetry would insult, drown, execute, and beat that particular art beyond the realms of cruel and unusual punishment. Approaching the trellis, Alambiel could see Susan sitting on a marble bench with her skirts spread strategically so that Derrick couldn't take a seat without crushing her gown and that scion of Terebinthia would never stoop to such an offence. Instead, he was standing before her. Probably with an expression that brought to mind a lovesick mooncalf decorating his broad face.

Slipping by him, Alambiel barely suppressed a giggle at the flicker of relief that caused Susan's slightly forced and overly polite smile to relax into a more genuine one. The Gentle Queen twitched her skirts over so that she could take a seat. Derrick rubbed a hand over his square-cut jaw as he faltered in his soliloquy. He looked Alambiel over dubiously and she was more than tempted to jump at him just to see what he would do but she forced herself to give him a polite and very diplomatic smile.

The man relaxed, smoothed his broad hands over his finely brocaded knee-length surcoat, and then knelt on one knee before the bench. His green eyes fixed on Susan as he ran a hand through his already tousled red curls, Derrick grinned broadly. "I hope my affections are unmistakable, Your Majesty. Words can scarce capture your beauty and do it justice, though. But, I must say that if you will consent to accepting my hand in marriage, I know we will be the perfect pair. Rather like my thighs."

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"You should not have laughed."

Susan heard Kat giggle again and pressed her lips together to keep even a smile from edging its way free. After a moment of half-choked laughter, Kat tapped her on the shoulder. "I did apologize."

"While laughing."

"Oh come on! He compared you two as a potential couple to his thighs. If a man's going to go there, then he should at least have his thighs on display. I mean what if they were misshapen? Oh, or lopsided? Or were sticks?"

"Kat!" Susan giggled in spite of herself as she recalled the thunderstruck look Lord Derrick had given them both when Kat fell off the bench from laughing. "The poor man." She glanced over at the older woman, observing the way her hair fell in golden waves down her back. "I can't believe you're wearing your hair loose after almost eight years of never wearing it truly loose. I think the only time I've seen it like this was at your wedding."

Kat reached up, patting her hair. "Only because it's not completely impractical to wear it down today. But between you sprouting flowers and crying seashells and his thighs, which we must trust are wondrous, I think Derrick's one of your stranger suitors. Top ten at least. Possibly top five."

"At least he is only strange and not perfectly odious." Susan sighed then brightened. "Oh! I have to go see how Amaryllis and Marsalla are handling the final touches on the reception and you should probably remind your husband that the reception is set to begin at eighth hour. Don't be late, Kat. You two are the guests of honor after all."

Kat sighed but didn't protest this time. "Don't worry, I'll tell him. By the way, how are the new guards suiting you?"

Susan gave her a quizzical look. "New guards?"

Kat stopped then looked over her shoulder. "He wouldn't."

"Who wouldn't what?"

She waited but Kat didn't even seem to register her question. Susan had just opened her mouth to inquire further when Kat stated softly, "Please forgive me, Susan, but I just realized I have a pressing matter that must be seen to without delay. I'm sure the reception will be lovely."

Then the older woman left in a sweep of blue silk skirts with Ptah and three soldiers following her. Susan only recognized the cream-colored Wolf as one of the Windwolf daughters. She frowned slightly but then a Humming Bird darted up and hovered in front of her, his ruby throat gleaming in the sunlight. "Your Majesty, there is some confusion as to which flowers you wanted to decorate the reception tent."

Susan nodded. "Thank you for informing me. Please let them know I shall be there momentarily to see it." Gathering her velvet skirts, she hurried after the Hummingbird. She didn't want anything to mar the reception for two people who were practically family. Even if it was not the wedding, all of Cair Paravel still deserved the chance to congratulate Oreius and Kat on their happy marriage.

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Alambiel didn't pause as she entered Oreius' quarters, save to gesture for Ptah to wait outside, before she burst into his study. The Kentauri was looking over his reports as usual but he glanced up at her entrance. The anger that had built during her walk here as all the little odd occurrences she had noticed over the last five days slid into place but she forced herself to speak calmly and coolly, "What have you done?"

"Done?"

"Yes. What have you done, Oreius? Why would you-" She cut herself off and glared over her shoulder at the three guards who were standing just a few feet behind her. "Leave us."

They didn't move although the Wolf glanced nervously at the doors. The Satyr raised his head slightly. "We do not answer to you."

"Leave."

The moment Oreius uttered that single word, the three soldiers filed out the door. Alambiel stared after them, too angry to even look at the Centaur. She caught a glimpse of Ptah's hastily concealed shock before she slammed the door close and locked it. Turning around, she leaned against the solid oak and closed her eyes as she took a deep breath, desperately trying to calm herself down. "You assigned guards who can only be dismissed by yourself. And why exactly would you do that?"

"Iphicles misunderstood my orders. They should have left as soon as they saw you were with me. I will speak to them."

"It had best be to reassign them!" she snapped.

"No."

Alambiel clenched her fists. "No? You assigned them to watch me without even so much as telling me that you were planning this. They know nothing of how a royal guard should act! And they made their presence known continually today, which made today a worse exercise than the previous days'. You need to reassign them to the Queens' guard. That at least should provide a worthy exercise."

"They are not performing an exercise."

"Don't say that." Alambiel shook her head. "Don't you dare tell me that you gave them an assignment as my guard."

Oreius regarded her with an inexplicable expression in his dark eyes before that implacable mask slipped over his face. He flicked his tail, stating bluntly, "You may not wish to hear it, but it is the truth. You need more guards."

"More guards? I thought we settled this years ago. I need no more guards than the one I already have. Ptah is more than enough."

"He was not enough in Redhaven!" Oreius clenched his jaw then repeated softly but with an iron thread weaving its way through his voice, "He is not enough. Not anymore."

Alambiel pushed off the door, watching his face for any flicker of emotion behind the stoic mask he now wore. "Is that what this is about? Redhaven and Mordad?" He didn't answer. She scowled. "Increasing the guard wouldn't have stopped Mordad and his men. It would have just raised the body count."

"You don't know that."

"And you don't know that anything could have changed what happened, Oreius."

"I will not lose you!" Oreius shouted and stamped a hoof. "Not again. I have vowed to protect you and I will do everything in my power to do so. You are the Princess Royal and I should have added to your guard as soon as that became known. Your recklessness has nearly led to your death far too many times for comfort. More guards will deter any assassins who think they might pick you off."

Alambiel slashed her hand through the air. "No! You do not have the right to arbitrarily assign guards to me."

The Kentauri watched her, unmoved. "I am the General. It is both my right and my duty to make these decisions regarding the safety and protection of the royals, of whom you are one."

She stepped closer to him and hissed, "Stop it! Stop talking to me as though I am an assignment. I may be a royal, Oreius, and I might even be one of your soldiers when it suits me but as of nineteen days ago I am your wife first. This is not a decision you should have made without talking to me about it."

"You would not have agreed and I will not let you endanger yourself."

Alambiel spread her arms wide, a bitter laugh breaking free. "So instead you would go behind my back? Why? What happened to make you do that?"

"There was a death threat against you and-"

She scoffed, "A death threat?" Storming over to the pile of letters she had left on the table that morn, Alambiel grabbed them and began opening them. "Let's see what I received today. Ah, a death threat. And look there's two more. Accusation of being a witch. Marriage proposal. Death threat. Death threat. Witch. Marriage proposal. Report from Hadassah House. Death threat. Witch. Marriage proposal. Witch. Witch. Oh this one is just being rude. Death threat. Report. Report. Report. Death threat. Witch. Witch. Insane witch who needs to die. And that's just the first quarter of them." She shook the letters at him. "I get death threats all the time. Only one in thirty are actually worth a dab of concern! You are being paranoid!"

Oreius glared. "This is no jest or joke. You cannot flippantly dismiss death threats out of hand. Does your life mean so little to you?"

"I don't have a death wish, Oreius. But I'm not going to live in fear of possibilities and unknowns, not anymore. You're the one who taught me that, by the way."

She turned away, intending to leave before the argument grew any messier and she said something she would regret. An iron grasp encircled her upper arm and propelled her to face Oreius. The impassive as stone mask was finally cracking and she could see the fury flickering in his eyes. "I never said to throw your life away. I never said to act the fool. You are a target and the guards will protect you when I am not there to do so."

"You are acting as though I cannot protect myself." Alambiel strained to break his grasp, which was pulling her up so she balanced on the balls of her feet though she doubted he even realized it, but she remained caught. She looked at him, no longer attempting to hide or subdue her anger. "I am not a fragile princess who will break at any moment's notice. I am not weak and I am perfectly capable of defending myself. I do not need you to protect me, Oreius."

"Because you defended yourself against Mordad so very well." He abruptly released her arm and she settled back on her heels. "I will not rescind the orders. And until I can trust you not to play the fool, I will allow Iphicles and the others to continue under their belief that they are only to answer to me in regards to their dismissal. You may lock them out of our bedchamber but they will accompany you everywhere else."

Alambiel took a deep breath but the acidic retort died on her lips as a soft knock sounded at the doors. "General Oreius?"

She whirled around and locked herself in the bedchamber. Only after she heard Oreius open the main doors and speak to whichever soldier needed his attention did she look in the mirror of her dressing table. She reached up in surprise to touch the wet lines tears of anger and hurt had left on her cheeks. She poured some water into the basin and scrubbed at her face but it did nothing to soothe the angry turmoil within. Oreius was paranoid and he clung to the events of last year far more than he should but she could have forgiven him that easily, even been understanding of his need to protect her. But he had gone behind her back and treated her as though she were incapable child. That she could not forgive so easily.

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Oreius stood next to Alambiel, accepting yet another round of felicitations from one of the diplomatic parties visiting the Cair. He did not look at his wife and he wondered at the fact that none had noticed the strain between them. A strain that should not be present among newlyweds. Though Alambiel rested her hand on his arm and smiled with an artless perfection at their well-wishers, she never looked at him or even spoke to him beyond what was required to maintain appearances. They did not dance either. Instead, Oreius contrived to keep them occupied with making the rounds with the guests and being careful not to linger overlong with Tuulea and Stonebrook who might guess at their troubles.

The strain grew as the evening wore on until he felt he might slice through it with a sword as they finally found an opportunity to escape. Alambiel said nothing when they entered their quarters. Oreius frowned, his temper yet frayed and his patience in short supply. "Do you intend to sulk all night?"

"I have nothing to say to you."

He watched her walk into their bedchamber without even a glance over her shoulder. Clenching his fists, he wheeled about and entered his study. Peridan had been scheduled to go out on patrol tomorrow morn when one of the soldiers brought word that the knight had suffered the ignominious fate of tripping over a toy one of his children had left lying out. Peridan apparently tumbled down the flight of stairs leading from the family's quarters as a result, breaking his leg in two places. Oreius still needed to assign a new leader to the patrol.

Three hours later, Oreius gave up on his attempted distraction. He had only stared at the blank parchment as he relived the argument with Alambiel during that time. He would have to assign a new patrol leader in the morn after training with the Kings and Sir Delos. Alambiel was already asleep when he came in but for the first time since they married, since he had asked her to leave her hair loose when she could, she had her hair neatly braided and was curled on the edge of the bed as far from his side as she could reach and still be in the bed. Oreius' mouth tightened when he saw the pillow she had placed at her back in addition to the one she clutched in her arms.

It was a childish way to punish him. Even more childish than refusing to speak to him. But he would let her sulk if that was her wish. Oreius looked at her again and then shook his head. He went back to his study and began to look over the report Iphicles had prepared on Alambiel's activities that day.

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"Are you certain about this?"

Alambiel glanced at Ptah as she tightened Pepin's girth. "You don't have to come. And someone has to go in Peridan's place."

The Leopard bared his teeth in a grimace. "I would not stay for anything."

"Then stop complaining and come on." Alambiel hid a wince as Pepin bumped his nose against her bruised arm. Angry and hurt as she was over Oreius' handling of the guards, she was glad the bruise would be almost completely faded by the time she returned. The Kentauri would never forgive himself if he realized he had left a mark on her out of anger. Besides, she thought as she swung up onto the gelding's back, time and distance usually helps cool our heads. And distance is something we can't get easily anymore.

Pepin responded to the light touch of her heels and trotted out of the stables to meet the rest of patrol. She raised her chin slightly as she observed the soldiers. "Let's go."

With any luck, the patrol would be well on its way to Glasswater before the troublesome trio realized she had left the library.

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Oreius frowned as soon as he saw the folded sheet of parchment resting on top of his reports again. If it was another message from whoever had dared to threaten Alambiel, he would show it to her and hopefully that would force the stubborn mare to admit the guard was necessary. But the script was not unknown to him. Rather, it was as recognizable as his own. Alambiel's script revealed a simple message:

General Oreius,

I have taken the liberty of leading the patrol in Sir Shalott's place. I expect we shall return in three to four weeks.

Dame Sepphora

P.S. I took the Leopard and left the Fool's court.

"Fool's court, indeed, my lady," Oreius grumbled as he crumpled the note. He told her there was a death threat against her and she chose to wander the length and breadth of all Narnia for weeks on end. Yes, she was stubborn. Stubborn and foolish and clever enough to know that without a tangible threat against her, he could not demand she and the patrol return. Indeed, though he was loath to admit it, the patrol might add a layer of protection by rendering Alambiel's whereabouts more difficult to predict. But when she returned…when she returned, Dame Sepphora would learn there were still consequences for rash decisions.

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A/N: Please Read and Review! Uh oh, trouble in paradise already. Back to Markus next chapter. Lots and lots of Oberon too. In the meantime, leave a review and let me know what y'all thought about this one.