Susan tried to muffle her laughter behind her hand as she hurried toward her bedchamber, but it was obvious to everyone she passed that something had happened; there were intrigued expressions all around as the elder queen swept past. When she reached her door, Susan paused for a moment to sigh with relief, happy not to have met any of her siblings in the hall—palace staff didn't ask questions unless they were given leave too, but a royal sibling was a different matter, and Susan wanted to surprise them.

Nary was waiting inside and Susan did her best to control her mirth while the Naiad took her hair down and drew her bath. For her part, Nary was quite bemused by the Queen's efforts to look calm and controlled, but since Susan didn't offer an explanation, Nary carefully avoided asking questions that might be even remotely related to the Her Majesty's elation—in short, they hardly spoke.

Once she was tucked under her covers, Susan again withdrew the letter that had set off her merriment, laughter exploding from her lips again without even having to read it. What an idiot, she thought, happily, I can't believe he's fallen for it. She laughed until her sides hurt.

The fun, as the Queen thought of it, had all started several months before. Rabadash, tired of Susan stalling for over a year as to whether or not she would court him, had sent her an offer that he thought she couldn't refuses—he would give her an estate on the southernmost island in Calormen to use as she saw fit, if she'd agree to court him.

At first, Susan was suspicious of the offer, but she soon came to see it as an opportunity to gain a political advantage for her beloved Narnia and had sent word that she would come to Tashbaan to negotiate the details. The letter in her hands now was his elated response and she couldn't believe that he didn't see the true purpose behind the sweet words she'd written. What a fool, she thought happily, pressing her pillow to her face to muffle her giggles.

Suddenly, jovial whistling in the hallway silenced her laughter as quickly a switch turns off a light. She heard Peter's footsteps pause outside her door and, for a moment, she thought that her cover was blown, but then the whistling started again and his footsteps retreated.

Whew, she thought, relived, I dodged a bullet there.

None of her siblings were aware of her most recent communications with the Tisroc's heir, and Susan knew that she'd have to spill the beans sooner rather than later; all she wanted was to be able to do it at a time and place of her own choosing. Something in the back of her mind told her that they wouldn't approve of this scheme, but she couldn't bring herself to resist the lure of one-upping Rabadash…again. He was to much of an idiot and she enjoyed the diplomatic dance to much. Her thinking was that if she could all but seal the deal before she went to Calormen, then their wrath might be muted.

The Queen sighed, reluctant to set aside her fun. But knowing that she might not get so lucky if another sibling happened to walk past, she didn't hesitate to bounce from her bed and file the letter away. Then she quickly returned to bed and grabbed Swanwhite's diary, hoping that if anyone should call on her, they would only find her going through her usual nightly ritual.

She opened the diary, one with a rose petal-pink cover and the silver outline of a faun dancing with his flute sewn into it, and began reading.

I have seen so many suitors for so long now that they almost blend together and sometimes I worry that I'll confuse someone's name and start an international row. Of course, a silly thing like that doesn't concern me nearly as much as my indecision about whom to choose. I've barely turned anyone away and I dread turning away the right man or keeping the wrong one. Of course, I pray most fervently for the Lion's advice, and I know He is always with me, but I've yet to feel His wisdom on my heart and it is His wisdom that I so desperately crave. I feel almost suffocated by His silence—or perhaps, more rightly, my perception that He is silent. If He would but come and advise me, or send someone in His stead, I would be most grateful, for I am at a loss as to what to do.

Susan settled back against her blue satin pillows and closed her eyes, happy with the plan that she'd concocted—now all she had to do was think of a way to convince her siblings that she knew what she was doing.

It was nearing lunchtime when Susan, working in her office, heard Peter's jovial whistle coming down the hall. She laid her quill aside and looked up just in time to see his smiling face in her doorway; he knocked on her open door with one hand, while keeping the other behind his back. "May I come in?" he asked.

"Well, of course, brother," she replied, returning his smile, "But, don't you think it's a bit early to retrieve me for lunch."

Peter kept the smile on his face as he chided her, "There's no time like the present to gather my oldest little sister for lunch—besides I'd like to talk with you."

"Uh-oh, what have I done now?" Susan teased, "I know that tone—we'll be late for lunch by what I know of that tone, and what will Ed and Lu say then?"

"Ed and Lu are riding toward Shimmering Meadow to mediate a dispute between the Talking Horses that graze in the area and the Dryads that live along the fringe—and, for your peace of mind, they took a packed lunch with them."

Susan smiled broadly, "Oh, I'm sure the kitchen staff outdid themselves." Then the implications of the other part of her brother's message hit her and her eyebrows rose with some alarm. "Both of them went," she questioned, "Is the dispute really that bad?"

"I'm afraid so—you know how territorial Dryads can be about their trees."

Susan sighed, "Yes, I do—but, Good Lion, both of them having to go?" She shook her head, then, changing the subject, asked, "So, what do you want to talk with me about?"

Peter's expression darkened a bit and he gave her a stern look before pulling a long scroll from behind his back.

"Oh no!" Susan moaned, covering her face with her hands, "Tell me that's not a list of things we need from the household staff!"

Peter offered just a hint of a smile. "Okay," he said, "It's not from the household staff."

Then he gave her a hard stare, "It's from Tashbaan."

Susan stiffed, her face still in her hands. Did it have anything to do with her enticing Rabadash?

Peter went on, "It seems as though the Tisroc's heir is impatient to get you down to Tashbaan to see some wonderful real estate that apparently has your name on it—he wrote me to press you about a timetable for your coming."

"Of course," the High King continued, frowning, "I'm sure you're all too aware that I'm in the dark about all this—and you also know that I don't like being left in the dark—so I'm sure that you realize that I'm just going to ask you what in blazes is this all about?" He held out his hand and Susan reluctantly took it. Peter continued, his words suddenly soft, "Come, sister — lunch will be served in the garden."

As her brother towed her toward the garden, Susan's mind whirled, seeking out the best way to convince him to allow her a trip to Tashbaan. Peter, although he'd never hesitated to send one of his siblings to do a hard job, was cautious of their safety when prudence demanded it, and the Queen could tell that he wasn't pleased. She found herself wondering if even her best diplomatic wiles could forge a plan to convince him to let her go—her siblings didn't fall for her schemes nearly as much as others did.

As they enter the garden, the sweet aromas of springtime blooms washed over them and they closed their eyes for a minute, simply enjoying the mingling scents of roses, magnolias, violets, gardenias, freesia, lilacs, and plumerias. A warm breeze was floating though, enhancing the fragrance.

Peter gently pushed Susan forward and she, still with her eyes closed, allowed him to guide her to a chair at a small round maple table and seat her, then he sat down on the opposite side and stared thoughtfully at her still closed eyes.

"You know," he began, after she didn't move or speak, "I think I should take it as a compliment that you're still trying to conjure up a scheme as to why I should let you go to Tashbaan."

Susan opened her eyes slowly, "What makes you think I haven't already got one devised?"

"Well for one, you let me start the conversation—if you wanted control, or knew precisely what you wanted to say, you would have spoken first, then you could direct the course of things at the start."

"Maybe that's part of my plan." Susan stalled, with no good plans coming to mind.

"Now you're stalling," Peter laughed.

"Well, now—" Susan began, but Peter held up his hand.

"Please, why don't you just start at the beginning," he said, "I'd really prefer to hear all the dirty details."

"Well, alright…" she complied, ducking her head, as a sudden and unusual blush briefly colored her cheeks.

Suddenly, they were interrupted by a young she-faun, her arms leaden with lunch platters. The dishes were set in front of them and their cups were filled with wine, then the waitress retreated and Peter lifted the lids. Brother and sister savored the sights and smells of duck breasts in raspberry sauce and a warm beet salad, then ate quietly for several minutes. Finally, Peter laid his fork aside and got back to business.

"Well, now," he said, "After that lovely little interruption in our conversation—in which I'm sure you've had time to spin a tale to try and get your way—can you please get back to your explanation?"

Susan sucked in a deep breath, and scowled, "I have not concocted a great tale to get my way," she said, defensively, "I should have, but I was enjoying you company and the flower and the food." Her scowl deepened, as if she was upset with herself.

Peter laughed softly. "More stalling and a little sweet talking, eh?" he said, "You good, sister." Then he frowned at her, "But it won't work, Su—your story, please."

She rolled her eyes, saying, "You're no fun when I can't have my way with you—of course, that can be said for Ed and Lu too. I was going to tell all eventually—just not yet."

"Susan!"

The Queen sighed, holding up a hand as if to stop her brother's growing impatience, "Alright, alright, I'll talk."

She bit her lip for a moment then began, "As you know, I've turned down a good many proposals over the last year, but I've kept Rabadash hanging around—not because I like him or because I'm considering him as a viable marriage partner, because that's a ridiculous joke—"

"Well, I'm glad to hear that," Peter muttered.

Susan couldn't resist a chuckle before continuing, "I've kept him around because, well, I've found the relationship to be advantageous—for us, for Narnia."

Peter's eyebrows rose slightly, " Advantageous? Coming from you—in that tone—that sounds dangerous…"

"No more than any other diplomatic game that any of us has ever played," Susan answered mildly, spearing some greens with her folk, then taking a bite.

After she swallowed, she continued, "I've found that being the Tisroc's heir's leading lady has all sort perks—like those fine southern-bred horses the Tisroc sold us for cheap. I settled that deal over lunch when Rabadash was here last month, and the territorial dispute between Anvard and Tashbaan—Lune got everything he wanted because Rabadash is a fool. Sweet talked by me over dinner and a spin on the dance floor." Susan gave her brother a triumphant smile.

"Su…" Peter's expression bore into her until she involuntarily flinched. "You're playing with fire," he cautioned her, "Good Lion, sister, fires born of passion blaze the hottest—eventually he's going to demand more of you than a simple dinner or dance."

"Oh, Rabadash a fool, brother," Susan retorted, waving her hand dismissively, "I have things well in hand."

Peter scowled, "He might be foolish, but he's not a fool—no, eventually he'll call in your account and I fear that you'll pay with a lot more than dinner and dancing."

Then the High King set the scroll on the table, letting the end of it roll across so that Susan was staring at the words upside down, then he continued with a snug smile, "Fortunately, his loftiness' message found its way to me instead of to you and I'm officially rising to the occasion by saying no sister—you may not go to Tashbaan over this—and certainly not alone."

Susan frowned, "I suspected you'd say that—and it's his highness, not his loftiness."

"Oh good, I was hoping you hadn't completely lost your mind—and I think he'd prefer his loftiness." Peter paused, "Of course, I'm only going on what my eyes have seem in him."

Ignoring her older brother's wit, Susan returned to the more pressing topic. "I can't turn down his invitation for the negotiations after I've already said that I would make the journey," she complained, then asked, "How do you propose I tell him that I can't come without hurting the tetrarchs authority by making it seem as if we don't have our ducks in a row?"

Peter scowled, "Well, it certainly would have been a simpler matter if you'd included the rest of us in your little scheme, but as it is…I have an idea."

"Oh? Do tell."

"I'll write to Rabadash and explain about some unexpected issue that you must see too—something that only you can be involved in because…" He hesitated for a moment, thinking, then tried again, "Because…well, I'll think of something."

Susan rolled her eyes, "Oh my, perhaps I'll have to proofread that letter—you know making up bogus information to spread around isn't your forte."

Peter shrugged, dismissing her criticism with a wave of his hand, "Okay, I'll get Edmund to do it."

"Well, that's better," Susan answered, then cocked her head in thought. Suddenly, her eyes widened, "Oh no, Edmund will read me the riot act for attempting this scheme—then he'll tell Lu and she'll read me the riot act too." She sighed, "I'll never escape them."

"I wouldn't have it any other way," Peter smirked, "The more riot acts you're read, the better—honestly, Su, what in blazes are you thinking? A mansion in Calormen owned by a Narnian Queen…what a diplomatic nightmare!" He shook his head, his expression growing serious, "Maybe you have lost your marbles…surely you realize how a deal like that would look in the eyes of the other nations in the world."

"Oh, come off your high horse, brother," Susan snapped, then took a sip of tea to settle herself. When she continued, her voice was calmer, but still steely, "I never intended to accept the offer…just get a few concessions that would benefit us…all for the good of Narnia." She gave him her most alluring diplomatic smile.

Peter scowled, immune to his sister's sensuality, "As I said before, Rabadash won't be content to concede, concede, concede without calling in your account when he feels it's sufficiently high…you've been too bold this time, sister."

Susan's expression turned lofty and she flipped her raven hair back with one hand, saying, "Shame on you, brother! I thought you trusted my prowess in the field of foreign negotiations—I have Rabadash eating out of my hand."

Peter took a sip of wine, staring at her though calm but icy eyes.

"I thought you knew better than to feed snakes from your hand, Su," he retorted, still holding his glass, "One who feeds snakes from their hand will get bit—as in not if, but when—and Lucy's cordial won't do a thing for you in this case."

He set his glass down with a hard thunk, "The answer, my dear, is no."

"But the authority of the tetrarch in foreign eyes," Susan reminded him, playing her last card, "We'll look weak in Tashbaan's eyes if I have given my yes and you override me with your no."

"Oh, come off it, Su," Peter finally snapped at her, "You know as well as I do that things arise and plans are changed."

"And another thing," he continued, still angry, "I don't really care if Tashbaan thinks us weak—let them come at us or Archenland—they will see that we are more than capable of defending ourselves and our friends."

He slammed his fist into the maple table for emphasis, "No, the Tisroc won't risk war over a canceled meeting."

"Will the meeting be rescheduled?" Susan asked quietly, forced to concede the battle to her older brother, "That is the proper thing to do."

Peter scowled at his glass, knowing that she was right. The issue must not be allowed to remain open. He gave one brief nod, saying, "I'll allow talks to continue here—not there—and we will all participate."

Then his eyes twinkled, "Besides, how dare you not let your siblings in on your fun!"

Author's Notes: Alrighty, I'm back! I hope everyone had a great Christmas-New Year. Things have been a little rough in my life and that has slowed me down, but what can I say? Real life is real life and Fanfiction is Fanfiction.

As for The Tash Files, I've only recently finished picking out demon names but at least I'm ready to start doing research on each specific temptation and I'll start writing the letters shortly. As a reminder, this story will be used as a break from that story for the foreseeable future.

To Raina: Oh, I think that having someone's old diary would be fun too. I love historical writings and to have someone's personal link to a bygone era would be awesome. I had a friend in college who used an old journal for a project—it was some officer's log from some war, but I don't remember more than that. I just know that I was jealous of his project.