The clock on her mantelpiece chimed two.

Isadora rolled over and tried to get comfortable. In a few hours she was supposed to spring out of bed all fresh-faced and ready for her father's coronation.

No, sleep was coming to her no time soon. She sat up and stretched.

In the corner of her room, the black and gold dress she had worn to Nain's coronation was propped up against an armchair. There was really no time for any detailed preparations for Miraz. Clothes were being repurposed, the Hall would unfortunately be undecorated, and she shuddered to think of the chaos probably going on in the kitchens right now.

She pushed the sheets off and reached for her robe to tie over her nightgown. It was one of her favourite possessions. It had been a gift from Caspian for her eighteenth birthday a few months ago and was her favourite red colour, decorated with little embroidered black feathers and golden roses.

Her slippers, however, had decided to elude her. She even knelt down and looked under the bed in case they had been kicked under there.

Marisela was currently going through a 'tidying' phase where she liked to raid her parents' and sisters' bedrooms for anything left where her grasping little hands could reach. She would then proceed to merrily distribute her ill-gotten gains anywhere throughout the castle she thought they were better suited.

Just the other day, Isadora had had to retrieve her favourite pair of silk stockings from Lorrin's room before he returned and found them. That would have been embarrassing if it reached the wrong ears. The Eagle knew where her slippers were now if Marisela had indeed got her hands on them.

With a sigh, she pulled on an old comfy pair of stockings and slipped her feet into her boots.

She then left her room with the intention of fetching the encyclopaedia from her family's sitting room. Earlier in the day, Ghaliya had pulled her aside to whisper that she had overheard Sopespian and their father talking. A scout had returned with news of the Old Narnians. They were apparently hiding out in a place called Aslan's How on the other side of Beruna.

Isadora remembered that Aslan was a lion, and was to the Narnians what the Black Eagle was to the Telmarines, but that was about it. She had never heard anything about a How. She was hoping the encyclopaedia would have some answers.

There was no noise from Ghaliya's room but from Marisela's there came a sobbing and the low comforting tones of the night nurse. Poor Little Duck must have had a nightmare.

She continued on her way.

The night nurse had left the nursery door ajar when she left to attend to Marisela and a small pool of yellow candlelight stretched across the stone floor.

Isadora was about level with it when she heard the door on the other side of the nursery slam open. Curious, she poked her head around the door but in an instant had shot back into the shadows; a hand upon her mouth to try to mask her suddenly-panicked breathing.

There was a boy and a girl in the nursery, standing over her brother's cradle. She had never seen them before but they were both armed and they looked dangerous.

"Where did that come from?!" she heard the boy ask.

"Did Mum never have that talk with you?" the girl replied playfully.

There was an irritated pause and then the boy said, "Come on, we need to find Miraz," and she thankfully heard the sound of retreating feet.

Calm, Dor, calm, she desperately thought. What was that accent? Was it Archenland? Why were there people from Archenland in the castle? What did they want with Father?

Go wake everyone up.

She turned tail and ran back towards her sisters' rooms as quickly but as quietly as she could.

"Ghaliya, wake up!" she hissed as she ducked through the door.

Her sister made a few non-committal sounds from her cocoon of bedclothes. Isadora hurried across the room to try to yank her out of bed.

"Ghaliya, Ghaliya please!" she whispered, tugging at her sister's shoulder.

"This isn't funny, Dor," Ghaliya moaned as she rolled over. "Leave me alone or I'll go get Father."

"No, Ghaliya, get up now!" she hissed. Her younger sister sat up and stared at her, sensing her urgency. She pulled her out of bed and wrapped her robe around her.

"There are people here, I think they are from Archenland or maybe the Islands, and I think they are trying to kill us," she whispered. Ghaliya's eyes became as round as saucers.

"Kill us? Why?" she whispered back, clinging to Isadora's arm.

"I don't know. I overheard them in the baby's room but they left him alone; I think they took a wrong turn because they were talking about Father. Go get the baby, get Marisela and the night nurse and then go hide," she said. "I need you to be brave so I can go and help Mother and Father. Can you do it?"

"Yes," Ghaliya stammered and then threw her arms around her sister. "Please be careful!"

"I will. Now go!"

They ran for the door, only pausing to grab a letter opener so Ghaliya had at least something to defend herself with.

In the corridor, Ghaliya gave her sister's hand one last squeeze before hurrying into Marisela's room. Isadora went into her own room to grab her crossbow and bolts and then made her way quickly towards her parents' room. The bow trembled in her hands. She had shot at other humans before when she had had little more than a toy in her hands. This was an actual crossbow, slightly lighter and more compact than the ones carried by the guards, and she had never turned it on another person before. She had hunted with it, of course, but she had never dreamed she might have to shoot a human.

There was light coming from under her parents' door as well. She stayed back a little so the occupants of the room wouldn't hear her load a bolt and then moved closer to the door.

"Put the sword down, Caspian. I don't want to do this," she heard her mother say and her stomach did the most horrible of backflips.

"We don't want you to either!" she heard a girl shout as another door slammed.

Hoping everyone would be looking the other way, she took a chance and nudged the door open slightly.

On the far side of the room were the two strangers from the nursery. The boy's sword was drawn and the girl had an arrow notched in her shortbow. She was aiming at Prunaprismia, who was kneeling on the bed with a crossbow in her hands – a crossbow she was aiming at Caspian.

Isadora had to choke back a sob when she saw him.

He wasn't her Cas; he was some terrible stranger. His handsome face was twisted into pure hatred and his sword was held to Miraz's neck.

Miraz himself seemed unperturbed by the situation.

"This used to be a private room," he noted drily, his hands on his hips.

Prunaprismia exchanged a look with her husband and then caught a glimpse of Isadora hidden outside the room. Her brow furrowed as she recognised her daughter and she gave her head the tiniest of shakes.

"Caspian! You are supposed to be in the gatehouse!" the mysterious boy was saying.

Caspian began to shake with anger.

"No!" he shouted. "Tonight, for once, I want the truth!"

He took a deep breath and then fixed all his hatred upon his uncle.

"Did you kill my father?"

In the moment before her father replied, Isadora almost threw down her crossbow, ran into the room and smacked Caspian around the head for being such an idiot.

Anger boiled through her. Is this why he had run? Some traitor had filled his head with lies and deceit and had turned him against his family. Turned him against the man who had raised him and treated him like a son.

Turned him against her.

Her father was quiet.

"So now we are getting somewhere," he said.

Her mother dropped her bow slightly.

"You told me your brother died in his sleep?" she said, disbelievingly.

"Well, that was more or less accurate," he shrugged.

Caspian made a noise like a wounded animal and pushed forward. Miraz was forced to take a few steps back but the blade still pierced his neck. He continued staring at his nephew, paying no attention at all to the trickle of blood now running down his nightshirt.

"Did you kill my father?" Caspian asked again.

"Caspian, please, this won't help anything," the mysterious girl with the bow begged. Isadora's blood boiled again. Who were these strangers? Who had taken her best friend from her and replaced him with this revenge-driven shadow?

"We Telmarines would have nothing if we had not taken it," her father was saying. "Your father knew it, I know it, and even my daughters know it."

Her mother lowered her crossbow even more. "Miraz…" she said softly. "How could you?"

"For the same reason you will pull the trigger!" he spat. "For our girls, and for our son!"

He took a step forward into Caspian's blade. The strange girl shouted a warning and Prunaprismia brought her bow up again but Isadora barely noticed them. All she could concentrate on was her father and her cousin locked together.

"I'm sorry, Prue, but you have to ask yourself a question," her father said, his eyes burning. "Do you want our son to be a King? Or do you want him to be like Caspian? Fatherless!"

Her mother screamed wildly and pulled the trigger. Caspian fell to one side and Miraz took the opportunity to duck into another hidden passageway, closely followed by his now openly sobbing wife.

Isadora stayed rooted to the spot as Caspian pushed himself off the ground and lurched after the fleeing strangers.

The rage in her blood built and built until she was shaking. Her lips curled back in a snarl and then she found herself tearing after the trio with a scream.

"Caspian," she screeched as she skidded into the corridor after them.

Her crossbow was brought up and aimed squarely at Caspian's back. The girl turned and Isadora moved her bow quickly.

"Don't," she said. "You even try to draw that arrow and I'll drop you."

"Woah, Dor, it's alright," Caspian said, stepping in front of the girl with his hands raised.

"We don't have time for this!" the boy hissed. "They are waiting outside; we just have to open the gates."

"By the Eagle, you have betrayed us," Isadora said weakly. The tip of her bow began to shake and tears welled in her eyes. "Why, Cas? You were going to be King in two years."

"You think your father would have let that happened?" he snarled, the hatred returning to his face. "He killed my father! He tried to kill me!"

"No he didn't, he wouldn't! He loved you!" she shrieked back.

Caspian slowly took a step towards her. The warning bells struck up. In a few minutes, the castle would be crawling with soldiers.

"Caspian!" the boy said again, urgency in his voice.

"Just let me talk to her!" Caspian pleaded and then turned back to her. He stretched out a hand.

"Come with us," he said. "Come with me, Dor, and I'll explain everything. There's an entire world been hidden from us."

"I should just kill you, you traitor," she said and tightened her grip on her bow.

For what seemed like an eternity, she stared down the length of the crossbow and tried to find the resolve within her to pull the trigger and kill her best friend.

Then, the most peculiar occurrence happened. The warm smell of spices, horses, and the desert sands enveloped her. She became acutely aware of a presence at her right shoulder but the faces of the three in front of her told her nobody had joined them. Her rage slipped from her, finger by wrathful finger.

And finally someone whispered in her ear, in a rich and comforting voice.

"Don't do it, Isadora. Return to your rightful place beside your King, Protector."

She hesitated.

And then she lowered her bow.


Yay, the website is working again so I can finally get the chapter up! I'm so excited to give you this one; it's one of my favourites!

Thank you to Ceara Einin, TortoisetheStoryteller, SageTelgar and the guest for your reviews last chapter!

As always, let me know what you thought and I shall see you next time.