Author's Note:

Chapter 7

She woke all at once. It had been a long time since she'd slept well enough to wake with the slowness of peace and comfort. Instead her eyes flew open and the room snapped into focus. The warmth, the cream marble over her head, and the simple blue gown she'd been redressed in told her she'd gotten to safety. So she sat up, tossing the lightweight blanket aside to slip her feet into a pair of slim tan boots waiting beside the bed.

The curtain around her bed opened to reveal a Centaur mare. "You're awake?"

"It would seem so. What did you do? I thought there was no cure for the enchantment," the girl replied, brushing dull blonde hair away from her face.

The mare regarded her with dark eyes that pitied her but did not trust her. "The Valiant Queen carries a cordial of blessed Fire-flower juice."

Turning, the girl saw a looking glass in the corner of the infirmary. She moved to stand before it, dread and curiosity drawing her together. "That must be powerful magic the Queen carries if I already look healthy," the girl mused, touching a pale cheek with calloused fingertips. Gray skin was pale now, there was color in her hair, and her lips were a pale pink.

"Make no mistake, girl. You are far from healthy. If one of the Queens looked like this, I'd pour soup down their throat and order three days of bed rest."

"Luckily for both of us, I am not one of your royals or one of his soldiers," she replied, tilting her head as she studied her reflection. On a whim she started braiding her hair, sighing in relief when she finished off the plait just below her shoulder blades. "I know you're out there, General Orieus. Are you guarding me from your own people or your people from me?" she asked, keeping her voice pitched as though she were talking to the healer.

"Both, Lady Nixes," the Centaur stallion replied, standing in the doorway.

"Nixes is the name given to my enchanted self by the White Witch. I bid you do not use it. I am not Nixes," the girl turned to face him, then limped past him to sit on the edge of her bed. "I have no name to give you, General. Long years have passed since I was first found by the Witch."

"Well, then I suppose we'll have to find a name for you, won't we?" a new voice asked from behind the Centaur. The healer and the general turned, edging aside to make room for the human in the doorway. He strode between them and stopped by the foot of the bed. "You look much better than you did when I administered the cordial, milady," he told her, running his eyes over the seated girl.

"You gave me the cordial? You, the High King of Narnia, used the cordial on the False Princess of the Witch?" the incredulous tone in her voice made the High King raise an eyebrow at her. "Am I not a traitor to you, Your Majesty?" she threw in on seeing his golden eyebrow arch.

"That is not for me to decide, milady," he told her, offering his hand. The girl was taken back, but ran her eyes over the king before her. Broad shoulders pulled a dark blue tunic tight across what looked like a powerful chest. The resonating timbre of his voice matched the strength his figure presented. Eyes the color of the sky watched her examine him, and a strong jaw spread wide with a grin. She couldn't help the smile that flickered at the edge of her lips as she met his gaze. He was golden, like the crown tilted on his head. So she took the calloused, tanned hand extended to her.

Ignoring propriety, she reached up with the other hand and straightened his crown, stepping back when he chuckled. "My apologies, your majesty, but you don't want to ruin your picture perfect magnificence," she told him, offering a tentative smile.

"No, indeed, I do not, milady," he replied, tucking her hand into the crook of his elbow to escort her from the infirmary. "My brother, the Just is the judge in this court. I will take you to him now."

"Then you ask me to justify myself to the King who I once left tied to a tree in the Witch's camp," the girl murmured, her voice heavy with regret. "Do not look at me and see an innocent victim, your majesty."

"Save your story, milady. If you deserve Aslan's forgiveness, King Edmund will see that it is so," the High King led her down an outside walkway, crossing the palace from the east to the west.

"To the West then, your majesty?" she noted, watching the color motif of banners and flags change.

"Pardon?"

"King Edmund was crowned to the West, was he not? And your sister, the Valiant Queen who carries the healing cordial, she was crowned to the East?"

High King Peter was taken back. "Yes, they were."

"Then I suppose your majesty was crowned to the North? The Shield of Narnia, defending his people from the greatest dangers? And the Gentle Queen must be to the South, where you've always had friends in Archenland. The Great Lion is wise to place the Dearest Queen closest to His Country and yet defend Narnia from any dangers that may rise from the sea. Queen Susan is said to be no warrior."

"How do you know so much about us?"

"Cair Paravel stood empty through the reign of the Witch. She would not enter here, but I had no such reservations. I often wandered here when the enchantment was in need of renewal. I was also here for some time when you and yours arrived before the Witch sent me North."

"Why did you not come to us then?" Peter watched her face as she took in the beauty that was the Cair.

Her wince said everything she would have to explain to Edmund. "I had received another dose of the enchantment that day. There was little I could do to fight it."

"You must tell King Edmund everything, milady." Peter told her, leading her into the western tower. They found themselves in the anteroom of the court, where a Faun waited at a desk. "Is he ready for her?"

"He is, your majesty." The Faun replied, nodding to the pair of Warthogs at the doors. The Animals set their shoulders to the doors and pushed, letting them swing inwards to reveal a great courtroom.

A Centaur came forward and the High King released her with a nod. She followed the centaur to the front of the room, where she had to pass through a gate to stand before the judge's bench. In the rows behind her and the balconies above her, she could hear Animals and Creatures muttering, whispering their speculations about who she was and what she had done. None of them recognized her now that there was color about her. But without Dargrim, her rune covered bow, or her black armor, they would never guess that she was once Princess Nixes.

Until she looked up and met brown eyes that knew her. King Edmund the Just inclined his head to his brother as the blonde sat in a row behind the girl, then focused his attention on her. He gazed at her for a moment, noting the alterations in her appearance, before he spoke. In that time, she realized how very different the fifteen year old before her was from the eleven year old she'd seen so many years ago. "It is good to see you free, Lady Evelyn."