A/n: Yes, the title is a reference to chapter 13 of SKOL.

~Narrator's POV~

The next morning, needless to say, Fern awoke with a hangover. Her headache wasn't too serious, but she just wasn't in the mood for anything. She was still lazily lying on her bed even though it was near lunchtime, and had no desire or intention to get up. She closed her eyes, trying to get some more sleep to numb the pounding in her head, yet someone wanted to see her.

"Fern, you have a visitor." Felicity announced, gently patting Fern who buried her face into her pillow.

"Who is it?" Fern queried lazily.

"Your brother." Felicity replied before leaving the room so that the two royals could talk in private.

Fern muttered something inaudible under her breath. "Which brother?" She sighed.

"Your favorite brother, of course."

Fern scowled once she heard his voice. "Rilian."

"Correct." He sat down on the armchair next to her bed.

"Be gone." She dismissed moodily.

"I'm not going to go anywhere before saying sorry for last night." He insisted.

"Well then in that case I'm not stopping you." She scoffed, still not facing him. To be honest she had got used to Rilian's tendency to act on impulse. Kalyn told them he must have inherited this trait from Caleb – he had a good heart, but he hardly thought twice before taking action. And Rilian was much more aggressive than his uncle.

Fern only could recall parts of yesterday night's events, but not all of them. As Rilian went on to justify some of his actions while apologized for rasher ones, she was able to recount what happened the night before, if she was bothered to think hard enough. She did, however, from vaguely to clearly, remember strolling in the gardens with a mysterious nobleman.

"So basically what you're saying right now…is that apparently," she sighed, "I was the one who kissed the Marquis or whatsoever. And then, you began hitting him, because you thought he was taking advantage of me."

"Quite." Rilian nodded gravely. "But I was probably as drunk as you were. Levin wasn't, though. He was the one who filled me in. Oh, and Laurel, too."

"And they say I'm the troublemaker." Fern murmured sardonically.

"Well, I'm sorry." Rilian murmured quietly. "But, hey, can I ask you a question?"

"You just did." Fern murmured monotonously, sighing loudly. "Just…don't expect precise answers from me. My brain isn't working."

"The man last night. If you inquired after his identity, do you remember who he said he was?" Rilian questioned.

Fern tossed and turned in her bed. "Chippingford?" She rubbed her eyes tiredly. "He was an Earl. Or was he a Baronet? No, no, he's an Earl."

"And his name?" Rilian pressed on.

"Rene." Fern groaned. "I may have got it wrong. I don't know." She glared at him, looking annoyed. "Why is that important to you?!"

"There was no such name on the guest list." Rilian reported firmly. "Besides, Chippingford doesn't have an Earl. It's Count Seth and Countess Francesca actually. Just thought I'd tell you the truth."

"Honestly, Rilian, do I look like I care?" Fern grumbled.

Rilian replied with a look of disapproval in his eyes. "That so called Earl probably wasn't even in the nobility or aristocracy or gentry classes, seeing as he was foolish enough to think there was an Earl of Chippingford. Chances are, he's a servant in disguise, trying to sneak into your party for fun. The good thing is, pretty much nobody knew of this fiasco. I would have got to the bottom of this if it weren't for –"

"If it weren't for mom and dad and Levin and Laurel and Felicity and Phoebus telling you to let it go because I'm not hurt and I'm not pressing charges against anybody." Fern finished the sentence in one big breath and buried her face into her pillow again.

Rilian was quiet for a moment. "How did you know?"

"I've known you for 17 years; how would I not know?" She countered, her voice muffled.

"Well, at least it's good to know you didn't get hurt." Rilian muttered.

"Nobody got hurt except for that poor lad because you hit him repeatedly in the face." Fern shook her head. "Bloody man."

"As I said, I only did what I did because I wanted you to be safe," Rilian began.

"So you hit him?" Fern eyed her brother skeptically.

"I'm just watching out for your wellbeing, even when I'm inebriated. So, it's pretty much instinctual." Rilian explained. "You do realize that you're officially of age now and there's going to be a long queue of men asking for your hand. I don't know what they're like, and I just want you to be careful around them."

"Honestly, is there any man, who's not family, who can be within a six feet radius of me, and you have no problem with?" Fern questioned exasperatedly.

"Olvin," Rilian blurted, and immediately regretted it a little. He knew his sister and his good friend pretty much fancied each other. It was rather obvious, frankly speaking, to him and Levin, if not to Fern and Olvin themselves.

"What's that supposed to mean?" Fern narrowed her eyes at Rilian.

"Nothing." Rilian answered, sounding a little forced. "But only because we've been friends with him since we were little. If I hadn't known him that well, I would keep an eye out for him too."

"Rilian!" Fern complained. "Not everyone is trying to court me."

"Oh, that's where you're wrong. Just because mom and dad don't tell you about the suitors they fend off for you doesn't mean these noblemen will stop pursuing you. And in most cases they're only chasing after your title, so that they can be, like, Prince Consort or something, and not so much after you yourself." Rilian murmured.

"And how would you know, dear brother?" Fern eyed Rilian doubtfully. "Can you relate to this situation yourself?"

"Funnily enough, I know, because I can't relate to any of it myself." Rilian sighed. "You've only ever seen women throw themselves at Levin and never at me, because he's going to be the successor to the throne, and I'm not."

"Don't pay them any attention, Rilian. You like to think too much. It's not healthy. It takes years off your life. Don't. Just…be happy." Fern advised lightheartedly before hugging a cushion and dozing off again.

Rilian sighed at his sister, but left her in her peaceful sleeping form, got up from the plush armchair and exited her bedchambers. On his way out, he did not notice the orange hair band lying on her dressing table.

"Fine. If you don't wanna go out, at least sit up, because I have a servant outside who's gonna serve you soup." Felicity compromised.

Fern bolted up. "Badger-made soup?"

"Yep." Felicity grinned heartily. "I know just your antidote to everything bad."

"I'm ready!" Fern beamed like a little kid on Christmas Day, and sat up straight.

When the soup was served, she, knowing she was not in public, slurped loudly, making her lady-in-waiting chuckle.

"How do you feel now?" Felicity inquired.

"Much, much better." She stretched. "Badger-made soup worked wonders for my dad. There's no reason why it shouldn't make me feel energized." Fern smiled as she recalled times when her father told her of how he was running away from Miraz and his men who were plotting an assassination attempt on him. A branch knocked him unconscious and he fell off Destrier, and when he woke up he was in Nikabrik's cottage, feeling absolutely awful, but when Trufflehunter served him warm soup he felt like a proper Prince again.

"Good. Right, now I have to meet up with someone, so I'll just have the servant collect the tray and whatnot, and then you can read a book or do anything you like." Felicity concluded and began packing, and was ready to go.

"Hey, where are you going?" Fern questioned curiously.

"Out!" Felicity avoided the question with a flustered, somewhat secretive smile. "Sorry; a promise's a promise." She hurriedly scuttled away.

"Are you sneaking out with my brother?" Fern asked aloud, but Felicity was already out the door. She groaned, hopping out of bed, possessed by the urge to find out what her lady-in-waiting was up to.

~Fern's POV~

Well, I had to get dressed and ought to look presentable before I could exit my room. I pulled open the door of my massive wardrobe. Fur coats were stuffed at a corner.

Wasn't that how the Kings and Queens of Old first found Narnia? I wondered for a bit, but quickly shook my head as my closet was clearly not made of wood grown from a tree with magical roots, and besides, things never happen the same way twice, so I probably wouldn't be going to this land called Earth any time soon. I was pretty eager to see for myself what the other realm was like. The dimension mom and Uncle Caleb were from. The land where Lady Marina daringly traveled to.

Still, I needed to get dressed. Preferably in something comfy, which would mean natural waistlines. Yes, I had become a fashion expert lately, and mom told me if she put me and Lady Marina in the same room with a closet full of glamorous garb we would never shut up. Mom would probably be right, regardless of whoever was in the room with me.

Anyway, I retrieved one of my more casual dresses. I picked a teal one, with a high demure neckline and cap sleeves in lace fabric. One of my many favorites. The truth was that I had wanted to look good even though I was not expecting to have to meet up with anyone in particular. Well, I certainly did not want to look disheveled in case I bumped into a potential suitor. I mentally groaned at the thought of suitors and courtship, but the mischievous part of me – never mind where I inherited that from – wanted to lead them on. I figured they would not really be brokenhearted, as they didn't really, truly love me anyways. I was, however, rather touched by the secret admirer who sent me the lovely bouquet yesterday. It was really nice and thoughtful of him. I kept wondering who he might be, and if he would ever reveal that he was the sender. Who could it possibly be? The question had been lingering in my mind for quite some time now. Probably longer than it ought to. And I still had no clue. Honestly, it could be anyone.

Could it be Olvin?

No. It couldn't possibly be him. Someone else's name was stamped on his heart, imprinted on his mind, spoken on his lips as he would, I imagined, utter each crisp syllable. He must be mumbling her name over and over again as she brought her body closer to his and kissed him softly and –

I stopped imagining. I didn't like it. I blocked those thoughts from my mind, but reality was hitting me hard. Surely many girls, in Archenland and in Narnia, would be pining after Olvin, the young handsome Prince of Archenland. I had seen the same thing happen to Levin indeed. Oh, the things girls would do for the love of a Prince.

I also pondered upon what it was about Olvin that made me attracted to him. And I couldn't quite comprehend why I felt a little jealous when he told me about his new love. It was like I couldn't help it. I couldn't help it at all. Or maybe it wasn't love, just interest. Anyway, a part of me wished that it was me that he thought about day and night, the first person to come to his mind when he woke up in the morning, and the last person to leave his mind as he went to sleep. We'd been close friends for so long; it was almost impossible for me to say that I had completely no feelings for him whatsoever. I felt a certain degree of disregard for noblemen who wanted to court me, but I would accept Olvin without doubt if it were him proposing courtship to me. The question is: would he?

A/n:

Is Felicity really going to meet up with Levin, like Fern conjectured, or does she have other plans in mind?

Can we maybe get the review count to like 30? Reviews keep me motivated and yes I've already written chapter 10, holding lots of surprises for you! Reviews = me happy = new chapter = you happy. Deal? *smiles*