"Alright, Lu," Sophie said with a smile, one hand on the dining room door and the other holding one of Lucy's hands. She pushed the door open and began shouting, "Happy Birthday!" but stopped short. Instead of Susan, Edmund, Professor Kirke, and Peter standing there with Lucy's birthday cake, only Peter stood. His hands were in his pockets, his face caught between being excited and afraid.

"Wait, what? Lucy, I—This is wrong. Where…I…" she trailed off, not making any sense in the least. She shook her head, the locks of hair left out of her bun swinging from side to side.

The youngest Pevensie gave her older friend's hand a squeeze. "Actually, Soph, this is quite right," she stated. "Now if you'll excuse me, I've got to find my partners in crime."

Sophie did her best not to gape after Lucy as she exited the room, leaving her alone with Peter. Being alone with Peter was definitely not what she had wanted this night, or any other for that matter. She turned to go, to run away because she could not face him. Even as they planned for what was supposed to be a birthday party, there were no words exchanged between the two. Susan and Edmund had—oh, they had been plotting with Lucy all along. And the Professor too no doubt. This was all rather upsetting.

Fingers closed around her wrist, keeping her from going any further. "Sophie, please don't leave," he asked quietly. "I didn't know about any of this either. But we might as well go along with it, at least for Lucy's sake. Humor her on her birthday."

There, he had done it: used her weakness against her. She couldn't say no to Lucy, even when the younger girl wasn't even there. She nodded her assent and allowed Peter to guide her to her seat. What was any of this going to solve, anyway? He was just going to—Actually, she had no idea what he might do. She no longer knew him as well as she had. It was both of their faults, his for being a stupid boy and hers for not being brave enough. She supposed that she could not truly call that a fault in him. Still, his inability was as much of a culprit as her inaction.

Peter could sense Sophie's distress and even though she was looking down at her plate, he knew that there were probably tears gathering in her eyes. He didn't blame her. After his treatment of her over the past month, the past few years really, he could understand why she might not want to be anywhere near to him. He wanted to tell her everything, but he didn't know where to begin. It was almost as if there was a mental block keeping him from saying anything to make things right between them.

"Sophie, Soph," he said, trying to get her to meet his gaze. "Sophiana."

At the sound of his old nickname for her, her reserve broke down and the waterworks began. That was just perfect. She mentally cursed at herself for being so emotional and would have bolted from the room if Edmund hadn't chosen that moment to enter.

"Dinner is served," he announced, setting salads down in front of them. "And what would you like to drink this evening, sir? Miss?" he asked, keeping his tone light.

"Water will be fine, Ed," Peter answered, trying to keep the annoyance he felt out of his voice.

"An excellent choice, sir. It will be out shortly." He gave a quick bow before leaving them.

Sophie was painfully aware that the only sound in the room now was the sound of her sniffling as she tried not to become hysterical. She kept her head bent, wiping at her eyes with the back of her hand. Of course she had forgotten her handkerchief on Lucy's dresser; the situation wouldn't be ironic enough without that happening. He'd barely spoken to her and she was a wreck. She didn't know how she would last through the meal.

"It doesn't sound good out there," Susan whispered tersely when Edmund returned to the butler's pantry. "What happened?" she asked.

Edmund shrugged, filling a pitcher with water. "I dunno. But she's crying," he replied before leaving.

"She's crying?!"

"Lucy, hush," Susan murmured, pulling her sister into a hug to comfort the both of them.

Is it just me or is it ridiculously warm in here? Edmund thought to himself as he poured their drinks. Neither one of them had touched their food. Sophie was still weeping and Peter simply sat there, gripping the arms of his chairs with such force that his knuckles were turning white. What a disaster this was proving to be. He had a feeling that continuing to serve them dinner would be a waste of food. Besides, this was not something they could fix while they just sat there.

"I'm sorry, Sophie," Peter said once Ed had gone again. "For everything," he added. Much to his surprise, Sophie began laughing.

Something inside of her snapped as she wiped away the last of the moisture at the corners of her eyes, her laughter filling the air. "You're sorry? That's it? Peter, I don't want your apologies. They don't change anything, just like your excuses didn't change anything," she spat, pushing her chair back to stand up.

He knew that he deserved this verbal abuse, but that didn't stop the anger welling up inside of him. He didn't take being yelled at well, to say the least. "What will change things, then? How can I make it up to you? When will you be happy with the way things are?" he asked, his voice gaining volume with every question. He was on his feet now too, towering over her tiny frame.

"I don't like this." Lucy spoke softly as she pressed her ear to the door.

"Are they arguing?" Susan asked, a bit surprised, standing next to her sister to press her own ear against the door.

"Just listen," Lucy instructed.

"Why does it matter?" Sophie shouted. "It's a joust, Your Majesty. You've participated in many over the years. All you have to do is—"

"I know what is expected of me, Lady Sophie," the High King growled. He paced back and forth in front of his window like a caged animal.

"Then I must ask again: why does it matter? If you had acted sooner you might have been able to pick Queen Susan or Queen Lucy, but as it is, they are both being represented in the tourney," she stated. "Besides, there are still plenty of noblewomen who would be—"

"What about you?" Peter inquired, locking his eyes with hers.

Color tinged Sophie's cheeks as she replied, "I won't be attending. I thought you knew. Everybody knows, have known for the past few weeks."

"Why?" It was impossible for him to keep the surprised shock out of his voice.

"If you'll excuse me, I don't believe we've accomplished anything and I have a lot on my to-do list this day." She turned about quickly, causing Susan and Lucy to jump away from the door only a moment before Sophie brushed past them.

"Happy with the way things are? Is it really so hard for you to understand why I can't be? Must I spell everything out for you?" Sophie asked, jabbing her finger into his chest to punctuate her questions.

Peter grabbed her hand, the sting of her physical abuse pushing him over the edge. "Maybe it is that hard for me to understand. Maybe you ought to spell it out for me. I don't know!"

The volume and bite in his voice made Sophie flinch and brought more unbidden tears to her eyes. She couldn't believe that this was happening. There would be no romantic confessions of love tonight, of that much she was certain. If she wanted him to say it, then she was going to have to ask. She wasn't a princess, he wasn't a prince, and this was clearly not a fairy tale.

"Three words, Peter. Eight letters. Say it."