And we approach the end still. Two chapters left!

Chapter 13
(Rose)

She can't help but believe him. He wants to marry her, and for some reason she wants to marry him too. But not yet, not when there's still so much they don't know about each other. She wants him to be absolutely sure before she agrees. She couldn't stand it if he left after a matter of months because they were foolish and didn't take the time to think things through. So she tells him to meet her family first, and realizes that she'll have to mention her father at some point. That's the part she dreads the most. Father doesn't have the best reputation in Beruna, and as a consequence neither does the family. And now that Mother's left him it's a further stain. Caspian needs to know all these things.

She does tell him that she lives in Telmara now, and how to find her, but she doesn't tell him why. She doesn't want that to be part of the memory of tonight. She only wants to remember dancing as wild as the Narnians, drinking wine while Caspian tried to come up with a name for her, kissing him as he told her he didn't care if she came from nothing. That's what she wants to remember from tonight. She's not going to let her father taint this night, not when he's tainted much already.

Caspian insists on riding back with her, and of course it'd be silly to refuse when they live so close to each other now. Within minutes of each other – and to think they used to be separated by half a country.

Medias is waiting for her when they arrive. He has the biggest grin she's seen on his face when he realizes who's with her, and it promises that he'll want to know everything just as he said.

Nerves flutter in Rose's stomach as she dismounts. She has to take a deep breath to steady herself, and then Caspian is walking hand in hand with her to meet her brother. The situation is so surreal she discreetly pinches her hand as they approach. These sorts of things just don't happen, yet here they are. It's happening, and still she can't quite believe it.

"Caspian, this is my brother Medias," Rose says once they're close enough that she can see Medias's smirk twitching every now and then. "Medias, this is Caspian."

"The king from the forest," says her brother, clasping hands with Caspian as if it's only another acquaintance he's meeting. "A pleasure."

"Likewise." Caspian glances at her sideways. Rose dips my head a bit – yes, she didn't mention she has a brother but he knows now.

"Is Mother awake?" Rose is not expecting her to be, but it keeps up appearances. She's not ready for Caspian to know everything at once.

Medias shakes his head. "She's indisposed."

Ah. Mother has good days and bad days, and she has ever since they left Beruna. This must be one of her bad ones. Luckily Caspian doesn't ask, and Rose almost sighs in relief. Those difficult things can be left for another time. Soon, but not now.

Medias excuses himself to go to work, and Rose flashes him a grateful smile. He's giving Caspian and her some privacy for their goodbyes. She senses Caspian is loath to leave, but there are still things she has to take care of here and she isn't ready for him to see all the less flattering parts of her at once. Just not today.

"When can I see you again?" Caspian asks, wrapping his arms around her waist as soon as Medias disappears from sight.

"Soon," she answers with a little smile. Lion, she does enjoy teasing him. At the quirk of his eyebrow, Rose relents and tells him to meet her just outside the city gates in a week's time. That should give her plenty of time to wrap up any loose ends and work out exactly how to fill him in on the rest of her life – at least, the things he needs to know.

Their goodbye is long and lingering, and Rose feels heat pool in her cheeks when he kisses her goodbye. The streets are starting to fill with people, and she's painfully aware that some of them are staring. But it's just something she'll have to get used to. He's the king; it comes with the territory.

Then he's leaving on Destrier and promising to be at the gates. When he's gone from sight, it all goes back to feeling like a dream. Rose can't quite wrap her head around the whirlwind of romance. She goes inside in a happy, lazy sort of daze and curls up in front of the fireplace, even though the cool of dawn is being steadily pushed away by the summer sun's heat. Still, she still can't quite believe this.

She was late to the Summer Dance, of course. Thank goodness it was easy to find, because as much as she loves the forests of Narnia she had no wish to be lost in one in the middle of the night. And then she found him, and quite literally danced the night away. She was afraid at first, that things would be different after she left so abruptly at the ball. But no, he was only very glad to see her and quite determined to keep her by his side as long as he could. Rose brushes her fingers against her lips as she remembers how he kissed her, much more passionately than in the swing. They were the sorts of kisses that made her head spin. She wants to blame the kisses for how easily she gave away her name, but she also knows she made the choice entirely on her own. But perhaps the kisses helped, just a little.

He wanted to marry her. She's convinced the wildness of the dance addled his common sense for a bit, that he'll not mention it again for a little while yet. After all, they barely know each other.

Plenty of time later, he'd said. Rose remembers with a smile tugging at her lips, even though she thinks he's being absurd and there's no way they can, or especially should, up and get married this very day. She wants to know without a doubt he's not going to leave without any warning. It's been years since Isi, but Rose would rather be cautious. This is the rest of her life she's dealing with, after all, and the repercussions of leaving a king would be so much worse than leaving a mere village man as her mother has done.

No, for now she only wants to see him again, and again and again. She wants to get to know him slowly, with no more secrets between them. She wants to take her time, to savor this part. She wants to be sure – as sure as he seems to be.

And then there's the small matter of being the king. If she marries him, that will make her queen. A common girl, a girl who's never ruled anything a day in her life will suddenly be thrust into a role she has no idea how to play.

Rose is suddenly frightened. As the girl from the forest, the only person she was responsible for her was herself. As queen, she would have the weight of a country to bear. Is she is cut from the right cloth to do that? Caspian was raised from birth to do it, and he fought a war to keep his right to it. She knows nothing about matters of state. Rose knows she's not nothing, but she's no queen.

In a rush, she remembers work and flies to Sima's shop on swift but sore feet. She gets a solid scolding for being late and another scolding for her choice of dress – it did get rather dirty from dancing all night – but in the end Sima just shakes her head and tells her to hurry and get to work.

"Daylight is wasting," Sima says, and Rose gets to work with a vengeance, relieved Sima didn't ask why, precisely, she was late.

(Caspian)

Upon his arrival at the castle, Caspian wants to shout to anyone and everyone that he's found the mystery girl and she isn't a ghost and he's going to marry her someday. He holds his tongue by the strongest force of will, and only because Rose didn't say if she wanted it to be public knowledge yet. He doesn't want to do anything before she's ready. He saw the caution in her, and the last thing he wants to do is scare her off. She already has that habit of leaving abruptly.

Not that he minds so very much now – it makes for the most wonderful story – but he's looking forward to not struggling to find her for months at a time.

Ironhoof, as it turns out, is the first to know.

Caspian lets it slip while they're sparring, and as soon as he gets to the proposing part Ironhoof is berating him.

"Proposing after seeing her three times? What in the name of the Lion has gotten into you?"

Caspian locks blades with his friend and tries to think of something that doesn't sound foolish. "I suppose I was a trifle carried away," he concedes, arms straining to hold the swords in place. "But I couldn't help it, it's just something about her. She's not just any girl."

Ironhoof grunts and breaks the stalemate, and Caspian has to jump back from a clean swipe at his torso. "Yes, we've established that. But think what you're doing. She knows little of you, and you little of her."

This is true, and Caspian is growing aware that telling her they could be married by noon was a bit rash. But he doesn't quite regret it either. "Yet," he corrects the centaur as he parries with ease. "We will, I'm not so foolish as to run off with her now."

"I should hope not."

Caspian bites his tongue on the little detail that at least he's met her family – well, her brother at least – and surely that counts for something? Because of course it does but Ironhoof is right. They need time to settle, to simply be two people in love rather than the girl from the forest and the smitten king of Narnia.

Ironhoof only relents when Caspian gives his solemn oath that he won't get married within the next month at least, though that doesn't seem quite long enough for the centaur.

A month is nothing. Caspian has waited much longer to simply have the chance to see her again. A month. So be it.

(Rose)

Rose is still on something of a high from the dance in the woods when she arrives home. She hums one of the wilder tunes, the one that dipped into the highest notes one minute and the lowest the very next, as she goes inside. Medias isn't back yet, so she goes to prepare dinner. Mother won't have done so if it's one of her bad days.

Yet when Rose goes into the kitchen, there is her mother, stirring a pot with vigor.

"Mother," Rose says carefully. "How are you feeling?"

"Just fine, Rose," Mother answers. Her voice is convincing enough, but her eyes are too bright when she turns to say hello. "Just fine," she repeats.

Something's wrong. Mother shouldn't be this chipper after being indisposed this morning.

"Is everything all right?" Rose asks carefully.

"As I said, just fine." Now her voice is much too high, and it's blatant she's trying very, very hard to make it seem like everything is fine when it's truly the opposite.

"Mother," says Rose. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing wrong, Rosamar. All is as it should be."

Rose's blood runs cold. She doesn't want to turn around and face him, not now when everything just started to work out. Will he ever stop poisoning things that are supposed to be good?

"Father," she says, voice carefully in monotone. "We weren't expecting you."

He chuckles. "I couldn't have my family missing me. Especially when I found out about your little meeting with the king." His hand clamps on her shoulder. Rose flinches, but she wills herself to stay still. She doesn't want to provoke anything, not now.

"How foolish of me," he whispers in her ear. "I didn't need to encourage you at all. You've done it all on your own."

Rose swallows down her fear. How he knows this she doesn't know, but if she can lie to him and make him believe her, maybe she can stall long enough to tell Caspian. It seems as though she's run out of time to keep her family to herself.

"I wish you were right," Rose says, keeping her voice steady and strong. "But it didn't work out. He still wants the princess from the ball."

Father tightens his grip on her, and Rose tries not to wince. It might bruise, but she doesn't want to give him the satisfaction.

"How convenient that the princess you speak of is you."

Rose's palms feel clammy, but she stays still. He can't know that for certain, there's no way he could. Bashar's spell made sure of that.

"You think no one noticed you returning after dawn? Your new shoes?"

"How could I have gone to the ball?" Rose says. "The trip takes a full day. I couldn't have been back by morning if I'd gone."

Father laughs bitterly, and Rose hates how it echoes in her ear.

"And if the princess was not you, pray tell who it was?"

"I don't know. How could I?"

"You were never a very good liar. You're too much like your mother." Father's hand migrates from Rose's shoulder to the side of her neck. Rose tries not to stiffen, she really does, but she can't help it this time.

"I didn't travel all this way for nothing, Rosamar. I know you're with the king now, and I am your father. All I ask is one small thing from you, and you can live here with your mother and that spiteful brother of yours as long as you like."

"Let me guess," Rose bites out. "You want to be a count?"

"Close, but no. I should prefer the title of duke, if you would be ever so kind. After all, the king will do almost anything for you. What's a little duke-dom?"

Rose grits her teeth, caught between anger and fear. It's a temping offer for a moment. Just give him what he wants in exchange for peace from him for the rest of their lives. But Rose knows better. It won't stop with the title of duke. There will be something else after that, and another thing after that. It'll never stop, and he will always use the same leverage to get what he wants. Giving in once won't stop him from interfering in her life, Mother's life, Medias's life. It will only set a precedent, one he will follow as long as he pleases. But if she refuses, he may snap now.

All right. She'll play along as the dutiful daughter.

"Fine," Rose says, giving a defeated little sigh at the end. "A duke you shall be."

Father loosens his grip from the side of her neck and claps her shoulder instead. "Smart girl," he says. Then his footsteps retreat, away and away until they disappear out of the door.

Rose sighs and turns to Mother. "Are you all right?"

Mother shivers, just a little, but she nods. "I'm sorry, Rose. I wanted to tell you. He only just appeared, minutes before you arrived."

Rose tells her it's fine, that she understands and that Mother doesn't have to apologize. But then of course Medias shows up, and asks what Mother doesn't have to apologize for, and Rose has to tell him the truth because he's her brother and he deserves to know.

And of course once Medias hears what's just happened he wants to go after their father and settle this out in the streets. Rose only just manages to convince him not to.

"He'll only wait for the next time you aren't here, Medias," she says, gripping his arm to keep him from running out the front door, which he's still glancing at every few seconds. "It's not worth it. We're new here, remember?"

"He's not getting away with this, little bird," Medias practically growls. "You can't expect me to do nothing."

"For now," Rose says. "Only for now."

Then she takes him aside and pretends she's trying to talk sense into him, but really she's telling him that she'll work something out and not to do anything too rash.

"Have you told Caspian about him?" Medias asks.

"No," Rose admits. "I don't know how to. Besides, we don't need him to step in. Father will do something awful on his own, we only need to wait before someone catches him."

"He's going to have to find out sooner or later," Medias tells her, almost stern in how he regards her. "Best to get it over with now, little bird."

He's right, of course, but Rose doesn't want to admit it. She doesn't want to involve him, not when things are just now getting started. She doesn't want to bother him with this, not when she knows they need only wait. In the city, he can't hide behind old friends and connections. No one will want a disruptive neighbor and Rose doesn't think they'll hesitate to get rid of one if he crops up.

So instead of agreeing, Rose just says she'll think about it.

She does, but it doesn't really change her mind.