Lucy knocked timidly on Professor Kirke's door, glancing over her shoulder to make sure Susan or Edmund hadn't followed her.

"Come in," he called.

She pushed the door open and looked around the study. She loved the room, with all of its knowledge and frivolity. The Professor stood at one of the shelves, seemingly searching for a book. "Um, Professor Kirke, I think we have a much bigger problem than you thought," she said, perching on the edge of an armchair.

"I feared as much. They aren't getting along at all, eh?" he asked, selecting a book and taking it back with him to his desk. He set it down, left it unopened, and propped his elbows on the desk, bringing his fingertips together. "A little intervention is needed, I believe."

Lucy grinned. "I knew you would understand, sir." She sat back in her chair, making herself comfortable. "And I have a brilliant plan."

"What can run but never walks, has a mouth but never talks, has a head but never weeps, has a bed but never sleeps?"

"Um…" Lucy trailed off, swinging her legs. She sat on the branch of a tree, while Sophie sat against the trunk. Both girls were barefoot, their shoes occupying the picnic basket. They had already feasted on the tea sandwiches, fruit, and cookies that Sophie had packed. Lucy could not have asked for a better birthday, although the best part was still to come.

Sophie giggled, the paper clutched in her hand shaking. She didn't believe that Ed had been able to solve these, even though he was the one to give them to her. Even Susan would have had trouble, which didn't seem to make it fair to let eight-year-old Lucy try and guess.

"I give up. This is too hard," the younger girl whined, just as Sophie had predicted she would when they came to this part of her list.

"A river," Sophie said. She sighed, closing her eyes and leaning her head against the tree. "I think we ought to get back now," she suggested, slipping the paper back into her pocket.

She couldn't believe how tired she was. Lucy had come up with an abundance of new games for them to play throughout the course of the day. It was almost as if she wanted to stay out of the house as long as possible. Sophie could hardly blame her, though. The weather could not have been more perfect. Plus they had been free of the tension that normally hung in the air.

"But I'm having so much fun!" Lucy exclaimed. She carefully made her way down from her branch, dropping lightly to her feet. She stood in front of Sophie and held out her hand. "Come on, I want to see your secret garden," she said.

Sophie got up and was thankful that there had been no rain in the last few days. "You are very lucky that there is no mud," she stated. She brushed off the back of her skirt before picking up the basket. "Perhaps we can bring some flowers back for Susan."

Lucy nodded in agreement. "She would like that."

"Oh, do get it for her, Peter," Lucy said excitedly, running her fingers over the lovely lavender colored fabric. "She would look like a princess in it," she sighed.

Peter chuckled. "She practically is a princess," he mused. He lifted up a corner of the cloth, imagining it on Sophie. Pastels looked the best on her, complimenting her light complexion and her golden curls.

"You aren't going to get it for her, are you?" Lucy asked after a few minutes had passed in silence.

"She would be mad at me," he replied, continuing on. There was still a lot to see before they returned to the castle. "For some reason she doesn't take kindly to presents."

Lucy shook her head as she strode to catch up to her brother. He was incredibly thick. "Only when you give them to her in public. It's embarrassing for her, especially when they're big presents—like horses. Or could you not tell from the way her cheeks get all blotchy when you do?"

Peter smiled sheepishly. "That was awkward, wasn't it?" he asked ruefully. He looked up at the sky, wishing that the clouds would spell out some sort of answer to his perpetual problem.

"Don't worry so much," Lucy chided teasingly. She patted his arm. "You'll figure it out eventually."

"Was that supposed to be comforting?" he asked, but she had darted ahead of him to look at another vendor's wares.

"Just over that log," Sophie called to Lucy. She watched as the younger girl clambered over the dead piece of wood. Her energy and enthusiasm knew no limits. It was refreshing and exhausting all at the same time.

Lucy gasped in delight as she caught sight of the flowers. "Oh Sophie! It's wonderful!"

"Isn't it? And I do think we'll be able to bring back one for Su," she said, surveying the makeshift garden. A couple of new wild flowers had sprung up since her last visit.

"We should have had our picnic here," Lucy said wistfully. "We ought to tomorrow," she suggested, looking up at Sophie with pleading eyes.

Sophie laughed. "Only if the others want to, and only if the weather permits it," she amended. She knelt down and brushed her fingertips against the flowers, a thoughtful look in her eyes.

The sound of the waves crashing against the shore never ceased to be a comfort to Sophie. It was a soothing drone from where she sat just beyond the tide's reach. She drew intricate patterns in the grainy sand around her feet and hummed quietly to herself. The sun was setting slowly, the last warmth of the day fading. She gave a disgruntled sigh and drew her knees to her chest, resting her head on them.

"Sometimes I just don't understand him," she muttered. She stabbed at the sand, ruining the design. The truth was that it seemed like most of the time she could not figure out what Peter was thinking. She used to be relatively good at staying on the same page as him, but his mind had become a complicated labyrinth.

She reached over to her hip, where she kept the singularly most important item that she owned: a silver dagger with a topaz set in the pommel. She had received it on her first day in Narnia from none other than Santa Claus himself. She smiled at the memory as she pulled the dagger from its sheath. The sheath and the hilt were adorned with an intricate design of cinquefoils and their stems. She twisted the blade around, letting the last of the day's light bounce off of it. She contemplated whether or not to use the thing, for it had the property of letting her see people, places, or specific things in its reflective surface.

Sophie fell backwards, not caring that she would have a difficult time getting the sand off later. "Show me Peter," she mumbled, staring intently at her dagger. At that moment a fanfare sounded, signaling his return to Cair Paravel. She sat back up and returned her dagger to its place, but not before catching a glimpse of Peter's face. He looked as regal as ever, but his expression was still guarded and a little tense, she thought.

Sophie drew her fingers away from the plant, a hurt look on her face. Lucy's earlier smile melted away. She wondered what the older girl was thinking about.

"Let's go back now," Sophie said. "We'll want to wash up before supper," she added. "You know how MacReady gets." Lucy dutifully kept up the pretense that she had no idea what was going on and followed after her friend.