Disclaimer: We're coming to Lewis again- and I must AGAIN render all credit for these characters and universe back to his genius. Without him and his story none of my OC's or plots could exist; they're dependant that way, though I hope they aren't parasites.

Chapter Twenty

When I awoke the next morning the sun was already high in the sky. I wondered at how tired I must have been the night before; I was usually an early riser. Winifred must have been very quiet, for a fire was already burning in the grate. My stomach rumbled. I rose, dressed, and left to get food from the kitchens.

Walking the corridors of Anvard, I was sensible of some lifted tension in the air. I passed the conference room on the way, and as Lord Ansel came out, instead of scowling at the wall and walking on, he doffed his cap, bowed low, and wished me a pleasant day. I exchanged a few pleasantries, a little confused, and went on my way.

I got into the kitchens, and Bertha greeted me. "Ah, milady Aravis. I thought you'd be down here this morning. Winifred came and told me you were a bump on a log this morning, and I thought how late you'd been in here last night with His Highness, and didn't wonder. Sit ye down, then. I saved you some breakfast." She sat a platter of ham and eggs and toast and butter before me, and a glass of milk.

"Bertha, I can never thank you enough," I told her, digging in with relish.

"It does me good to see the way you tuck into your food, milady, and that's fact. Nancy, tend to the fire now, it'll never do to have it go out, and the King's dinner due in two hours' time. Now, Lady Aravis, you'll never guess what young Larrin told us half an hour ago."

"Larrin?"

"Him that waits on the Lords in the mornings," she clarified.

"At the meetings? Aren't they usually dreadfully dull?" I asked, swallowing a mouthful of egg.

"So they are- he usually doesn't say anything about them- but today he says they start on His Highness Prince Cor about a princess again. They've been doing that for months, now, it's nothing new, and surely we'd all be happy to see the dear boy wed, but this time, Larrin says, His Highness stops them."

I blinked. "Stops them?"

Bertha nodded. "Stops them. Here, Rona, give those herbs to Salla- she'll need them for the dressing. Anyway, milady, he says he's made up his mind, he does, and that their Lordships don't need to bother bringing anymore Ladies around here at Anvard- that he's in touch with the Lady he has in mind."

I put down my fork. My blood ran cold. "He's made up his mind," I repeated. "Cor is betrothed?"

"Bless you, dear child, of course he's not! He would have said so at once if he was. But he's in love and he's decided it's no good letting all those Ladies break their hearts over him anymore." She smiled. "Just as well- I always have to learn their appetites and favourite foods when they come."

"The Lady- did Larrin mention her name?" I managed.

"No, that he didn't, because His Highness didn't either. The Lords pressed him; of course they did- but all he'd say is she was worthy and that was to be the end of it. I imagine His Majesty knows a bit more about it. Maybe His Highness is writing to the Lady- gracious knows he writes enough letters everyday, or so the messenger says. But really, Lady Aravis, who could hold out for long against the dear Prince? A better young man I've never seen and you ought to know. In any event, I imagine there's soon to be a wedding at Anvard! Are you done with your food then?"

I looked down at my half-finished breakfast, just remembering it was there. "Oh, yes, my apologies," I said. "Please, Bertha, excuse me…"

I gave an awkward half bow and walked out of the kitchens, dazed. A wedding at Anvard! Cor's choice was made! I hadn't seen him signify one Lady out from all the rest- the first inclination was to completely disbelieve the gossip. But Larrin had been there- and Bertha wasn't the type to get her facts wrong. And Cor had never once lied to anyone. So it must be true- there must be a lady he'd liked better: one I hadn't noticed and he hadn't told me about. He'd written to her? Maybe been writing to her for months? And had made up his mind now that he was going to pursue her exclusively.

She hadn't accepted him. That, too, was a valid assumption of Bertha's. Cor was the sort that would, once he had decided to reveal something, reveal it all at once. Perhaps she wouldn't ever accept him? But that was unlikely. Cor was handsome, courteous, powerful, and just plain good. On what possible grounds could any woman refuse him at all, let alone for long?

I could hardly think straight. The corridors were spinning. I imagined it- Cor's eyes shining out in love and admiration, standing next to his Father and Corin on the Great Lawn of Anvard. Lords and knights and Ladies in their brightest, gayest finery, assembled there. Cor reaching out his hand to a figure- the finely boned elegant white hand of some faceless Lady reached out to meet his. I shook my head violently, dispelling the awful vision. It was repellent, wrong! My stomach churned.

I sat down on a convenient bench in some corridor of the castle. Had I been able to take anything in with any degree of certainty I should have known where I was but I could not. It did not matter. I breathed deeply in and out, forcing myself to think.

On what grounds was I reacting so strongly? I had known for years Cor should have to marry. By all means all of the Ladies he had met had not been unpleasant. I had even liked some of them exceedingly. The news was sudden- to be sure. I acknowledged that must be part of it. I must not have been expecting Cor to make up his mind so soon- I had not had ample time to prepare myself for the change by the observance of any particular attention to any one Lady.

That implied a change. I had not thought of that. Surely, something must change by Cor's marriage. What then? Archenland would have a princess: a future queen. That was nothing to me. How would this affect me? She must take the place in the arrangement of affairs at Anvard that I had held for nigh three years, unchallenged, by the mere fact of its vacancy- if she should handle them badly that could cause some inconvenience, must cause some frustration, but it was by no means proven that she would.

No, now I had gotten it, for Cor's wife must also take her place in the royal family of Archenland. She must be the daughter to King Lune- the sister to Corin- that I had only ever pretended to be. Should that admittance cause the king and Corin to love me the less? Perhaps not, but it easily might. This was a grievous pain. But the chief of it- I blushed to think- the greatest share of the repulsion I felt by the idea of Cor marrying was what his wife must become to him.

She would be his partner on the throne, his constant help. She must be his chief confidante- the one person he trusted above all others. Now I understood myself. I had, for years now, occupied these positions myself. Had Cor not only the night before called me his greatest friend? I must be supplanted now, by the one he married, and the idea of that was what was now causing me such distress. But just as I acknowledged this, I was forced to acknowledge that I was not all to Cor that a wife would be to him, and indeed could not be, remaining as I was.

My shock and outrage cooled considerably, and now I was afraid. Should I envy Cor's wife providing the things only a wife could? That would be wicked of me- unless I were prepared- unless I was willing…I stopped myself there. That way futility and heartbreak lay in wait, especially since Cor had made his choice. Even if he had. I shut the door on the progression of my thoughts firmly. I would remain mistress of myself. I rose, recognized I was, quite by accident, in the very corridor in which Cor and Corin had their chambers. I turned to go, to head down the stairs again to my own- to work on the tapestry I had been making- perhaps it would quiet my mind.

But footsteps stopped me. "Oh, milady Aravis!" came a voice of a servant. I turned to face him.

"I was come to fetch Their Highnesses," he said. "Thomas at the gate reports that your Narnian friends have arrived: the Masters Bree and Brindee, the Madams Hwin and Faheen?"

The news was a welcome distraction. "Excellent," said I. "Thank you for telling me. I shall go down at once."

"Their Highnesses should like to go down with you, milady," he said.

I nodded distractedly. "Very well."

The servant knocked on the door of the Princes, and Corin answered it. The news was told to him, he hollered back for Cor, and the two came out.

"Oh, hullo, Aravis," said Corin. "You're up and about late. I haven't seen you all morning."

I nodded. "I woke up late," I said. "Good morning, Corin. Good morning, Cor."

I turned to lead down to the courtyard, but Corin took a few giant steps. "I say, Aravis, you don't look well. Is something wrong?"

"No," I said shortly. "I'm just a bit tired, is all."

"The Horses ought to wake you up," he said confidently. "It's great that they've come back again. It's been two months!"

"It will be good to see them," Cor said, speaking his first of the morning. He was looking at me oddly; he did not seem to buy my excuses to Corin. I looked away.

We walked down to the courtyard, and Bree and Faheen, Hwin and Brindee were waiting for us there. What's more, Hwin and Brindee had brought Hrinoo with them.

Hrinoo had been born to Hwin and Brindee at the end of last summer, and was now a little piebald filly with wide, inquisitive eyes. She had all the best of Brindee's intelligence and Hwin's sweetness, and really, it was all I could do to not give the colt an entire bag of sugar every time I saw her. She came up to me before any of the others did, dancing on her little spindly legs that seemed to be all there was of her.

"Aravis! Aravis! I saw a butterfly!" she told me in great excitement. "At least, that's what Faheen says it was. I've never seen a butterfly. Mum says it means the spring's coming. Aravis, have you seen many springs?"

I laughed, unable to help myself, despite the morning's stresses. "Eighteen, if you'll believe it. And how are you today, Hrinoo?"

She pranced about. "Excellent! Hullo, Cor! Hullo, Corin!" She went up to them, and they laughed, patting her on the nose.

"Hullo, Hrinoo," said Cor. The others were coming up now. "Hullo, Bree, Faheen."

"Hwin, Brindee! How she's grown," I told them as they came up.

For a long time there was only greeting and news- they had recently been to Cair Paravel just as Princess Lillian of Narnia turned seven. They had attended the party, and the Hrinoo was delighted because the little princess had spoken to her. Bree told Cor and Corin, on a more serious front, that the giants in the North of Narnia were rising again, and the King was going to have to get an army together to go out against them. The pass had only just cleared up- they thought they would see the spring here before heading back.

But finally, Hrinoo could bear the civilities in silence no more. She ran away to play, and Corin followed her, and Cor, Brindee and Bree followed them, and soon they were engaged in a rollicking game of Tag, though Bree insisted the three Horses be handicapped, because really, how could Cor and Corin hope to compete ("as capable as your Highnesses are, I'm sure")? Corin scowled at this, but did not actually demur, and I was left to talk to Hwin and Faheen.

"So what has been happening here at Anvard?" Faheen asked.

I shrugged. "Another troupe just left. From the Lone Islands, this time. They were here for a long time. They came two weeks after your last visit: just before the snows shut the pass. "

Hwin looked over at Cor, jumping aside and darting away from Hrinoo, who was apparently "It", while Corin stood by laughing. "Did he like any of the Ladies?"

I shifted. "I don't know. If he did, he didn't tell me." I smiled. "Corin did though: there was a Lady Rosamund with them he liked incredibly well. He ushered her about for weeks; she was quite heartbroken when they left. I suppose she'll be two months pining for him."

"Were there any that left pining for you?" Hwin wanted to know.

I rolled my eyes. "Unfortunately. A fellow by the name of Sir George: first cousin to the Governor. I couldn't get rid of him for two months!"

"Why were you trying?" Faheen laughed.

"You haven't seen him, or you'd know," I said. "He had this enormous mustache, and he was useless at absolutely everything except writing the soppiest songs I've ever had the misfortune to hear. It was maddening! In the end I had to be rather rude to get him to leave me alone."

Hwin let out a sigh, and Faheen reprimanded me gently. "He must've been worth something if he was in love with you, Aravis. You really should be nicer."

I snorted. "He wasn't in love with me. He never gave me a chance to put a word in edgewise so we could get properly acquainted. He thought I was tolerably pretty-wanted some distraction, and thought he could make up to King Lune or something. I don't know."

"You're grown up now, Aravis," said Hwin, giving me a Horse-Kiss. "You can't run away from men forever."

"I'm not!" I protested. "I live with men! I'm surrounded by men! I've no objection to them whatever. The old Lords of Archenland are all very nice, if a bit stuffy, and the younger ones we're getting now are sweet boys. And the three I love best in the world are all men."

"Aravis, you know that's not what she meant," chuckled Faheen.

Hwin looked over at Brindee and her foal: now working together to come at Bree from two sides so Corin could dart forward and tag him. "I just want you happy," she told me. "Have you ever been in love? It's the most wonderful thing in the world."

"I've seen Tarkaans and Tarkheenas ruined for love," I said dispassionately. "Poor King Lune, too. His wife died and the shadow is only just starting to leave the court." My heart clenched in my chest and I ignored it. "You two have done well enough, but pardon me if I think that's the exception."I pressed my lips together and would not open the door I had shut this morning. I would not wonder. I could not.

Faheen looked at me. "You're angry," she said. It wasn't a question.

I looked at the ground. "Things are changing," I said quietly. "But I shan't. I shall never marry."

"Never is a very long, hard word," Hwin said. "Aravis, don't say never. Not just yet."

Hrinoo darted up. "Mum, did you see? I tagged more quickly than anybody!"

"That she did," said Brindee. "Hwin, darling, would you mind? Corin asked Bree and I to ride with him later this evening."

"You'll come, Aravis, won't you?" asked Corin.

"You'll have to excuse me," said Cor suddenly. I realized he was much closer than I thought- he had been very near us when Hrinoo had ended the game. "I have matters to attend to this evening."

"I'll be there," I said.

"We shall be quite alright with Hrinoo," said Faheen. Hwin nodded, putting her head over her daughter's, trying with her teeth to get the filly's mane into some kind of order.

She protested. "Mum! I want to go, too!"

"Nonsense," Hwin said. "You're staying here with me. You'll see them tomorrow. We'll be here for weeks and weeks!"

"Really?" Hrinoo asked, eyes wide. She quieted at once. We all said our goodbyes. I was feeling a little better for the talk- but Cor seemed a bit out of spirits. As we walked back through the gates he said not a word. Corin was hailed by young Lord Cecil and his pretty sister Phoebe for some fun, but I left them debating the merits of an embroidery hoop over a practice sword for bashing Cecil with (Corin had agreed to show Cecil some pointers), and Cor came with me.

"You're going to the garden, I expect?" he said shortly.

"I always walk there before dinner," I said. "You know that."

"It's nearly time for dinner now," he said.

"I woke up late. I expect I shall miss; but I had a late breakfast."

We came to the garden entrance to the side of Anvard. "Will you join me?" I asked. Many mornings, if there was nothing else he had to do, he would, but this morning he looked pained.

"I broke my fast on time," he said, in the formal 'Prince voice' he never used with me. "Please, excuse me."

"Cor-" I began, seeing he was upset about something.

He bowed. "Lady Aravis." He turned and walked into the castle, leaving me confused and a little hurt. He had been perfectly fine this morning, better than I had been, but now he was plainly out of sorts. And he appeared to be out of sorts with me! I wondered what on earth I had done.

An hour or two before sunset, after forcing myself to be useful and work on the tapestry for a time, I went to find Corin for the ride. But as I came to their door, I heard raised voices within.

I backed off immediately. Corin was known to lose his temper on occasion, but Cor hardly ever shouted-even in quarrels with me he snapped and stalked off and was sulky. Shouting had never been his style. But he was shouting now. I could hear them both yelling at one another, though through the thick stone wall I could not make out what they said. The door flew open, and Corin came out.

"Fine!" he hollered back over his shoulder. "But you're only making it worse for yourself!"

He slammed the door and started down the hall. He checked when he saw me. "Aravis!" he cried. "How much did you-"he broke off.

"Nothing at all," I answered quickly. "I'd just come up. By the Mane, Corin, what's wrong?"

His cheek was red and swelling. "Don't worry," Corin said in a growl. "I didn't beat him up."

"But he hit you?"

"Obviously."

"What'd you do?" I asked. "He never-"

"What did I do?" Corin asked indignantly. "Believe it or not, Aravis, sometimes I'm the sensible one!" He touched the rapidly forming bruise on his cheekbone and winced.

"Are you very angry with him?" I asked.

Corin shook his head. "No. Just frustrated. He's being an enormous idiot. But don't let's speak of it. Let's go riding, shall we?"

He offered me his arm, trying to smile, but not quite managing it. I wasn't sure if it was due to the quarrel, or the pain in his face. I didn't ask. We walked down to the stable. He saddled his big black horse: Sergio the Huger- an incredibly good-tempered horse for all of his impressive name. I saddled Renetta, and the two of us went out to meet Bree and Brindee. Hwin, Faheen, and Hrinoo bade us goodbye, and we took the forest path, among the bare trees to the south of Anvard. Only a few were putting forth tiny green buds, and a wind blew through them. I was thankful for my warm cloak.

No-one spoke until we were almost a mile into the ride. Then Bree broke the silence. "So what's the bunch of thistles in your pasture, Prince Corin? I don't believe I've ever seen you hold your peace for three minutes together."

Corin's eyes darted to me, and then resumed their stare at the ground.

"He had a fight with Cor," I told the Horses.

"I had noticed that rising bruise," said Brindee. "I thought it due to practice."

"No," Corin said. "My dear twin is acting very stupidly," he said.

I frowned. "I can't imagine what's all happened since yesterday. He was acting perfectly normal in Tirravale." And since he had decreed to the nobles that they should cease seeking for him a bride and hit his brother in the face, I thought. Something must have happened.

Corin could hold his peace no longer. He burst out passionately, "The worst part is that it's almost entirely his own fault! This evening I tried to tell him how he could make it better for himself- and-well-"he gestured to his bruise.

"You've been meddling, Prince Corin," Brindee said.

Corin growled. "If I have been, it's only for his own good. It's not like things are dandy for me, either," he said, seeming to go off on a tangent. "Things are changing around here so fast."

This struck a little too close to home. "What do you mean?" I asked.

Corin bit his lip. "Father," he said. "It's different for you- but I remember how he was ten years ago. He lost a lot of strength when Mother died- but these past three years…" he trailed off. "What with the drought last year and just-he's getting old."

Bree snorted. "He's still hale enough."

"That's true, but he's failing. And everyone knows it. In another ten years—"he clamped his mouth shut, swallowed. "Cor will make a good king. Everyone knows it. Aslan knows he's a long sight better than I'd have been. But pardon me if I don't want him to be king just yet."

Had they been fighting about that? It was so nearly what Cor himself was feeling. I opened my mouth to speak, but Brindee beat me to it.

"Everything happens in its own time," he said.

"Yes, but what if the time's too short?" Corin demanded. I was confused. He seemed to be approaching one issue from several different angles. He was incredibly frustrated about something, but he had yet to come out and say it.

"Corin," I said, "What's really bothering you?"

"Same thing that's bothering everyone," he said. "Cor and this whole heir business. It has to be done; everyone knows it. But just as surely as Father…" he swallowed again. "Just as sure as Cor has to be King sometime, he's got to get married. You'll have heard. He's said he's made up his mind. But he's not saying who." He scowled. "And he got terribly angry when I asked this evening. I think as his brother I've a right to know. What if he's thinking of marrying someone ridiculous? Someone completely wrong for him?" He looked over at me. "Aslan knows there have been enough ridiculous girls around here."

"You've been on quite good terms with any number of them," I pointed out.

"Maybe so, for a week or two," he replied. "But if Cor gets married…when he gets married, I'll have to put up with her every time I'm home at Anvard. And she'll run the place, you know. It won't be Father's court anymore, it'll be hers, reflecting every silliness or fault she possesses. And I'll have to put up with it."

"Now really, Prince Corin," said Bree in his superior tone. "I don't really think Cor would marry anyone ridiculous."

"I don't know," Corin said. "But he might. He won't tell me she's not. "

"So His Highness is on the point of marriage?" Brindee asked.

"He's at least made up his mind not to look any further than one particular Lady," I said. "Bertha told me this morning."

"I was there when he said so," Corin confirmed. "He seemed happy then, though, and now he's not." He winced. "Now he's-not exactly angry- but he's more upset than I've ever seen him."

"Corin," I said, deciding to bring up part of what was bothering me. "What shall I do? What will become of me once Cor- who knows- once you yourself are married?"

Corin rolled his eyes. "Don't be ridiculous. You'll be here, won't you? Same as you've always been." He said it so assuredly I couldn't help smiling.

"Hwin and Faheen seem to think I ought to get married," I said.

"Nonsense!" snorted Bree, tossing his mane. "What could they possibly be thinking? You're the girl who fled Calormen to avoid marriage. And you're little more than a foal!"

"I'm just a year younger than Cor and Corin," I said, a little indignant. "I turn nineteen in three months."

He whinnied in surprise. "Do you really?" He looked thoughtful. "I'm getting old," he said.

"You're not," I said. "You're still a fine figure of a Horse."

"'Course you are," said Corin.

"You're the same age as me," Brindee said quietly. "I'm young yet."

"Then so are you, Aravis," Bree said. "You must see that. You're far too young to be leaving Anvard and getting married."

"Leaving?" Corin said in alarm. "Who said anything about leaving? Of course she can't leave." He turned and looked at me. "Anyway, Aravis, all your suitors have been ridiculous."

"I know it," I said. "I'm not married yet, am I?"

"None of those toads could've made you happy," he said dismissively. He grinned, raising an eyebrow. "If I thought it'd make you any happier, I'd marry you myself!" he joked.

I made a face. "Corin! What a silly idea!"

He laughed, but his eyes were far off. "Perhaps," he said. "Perhaps it is a silly idea for us to get married." I blinked at him, unsure if I had heard the emphasis on the 'us', as if it were not a silly idea for me to marry someone else. But he said nothing more, and was again studying the ground before Sergio the Huger.

Beside Renetta, Brindee swished his tail and snorted thoughtfully.

"I know the woman who marries you at last would be one of the luckiest women in the world," I told Corin, in case I had offended him. "Mind you, I also think she'd have to be one of the craziest—"

Corin looked up and winked, and I saw I had not.

"I still don't like all this," Bree said. "All this talk of marrying. It seems just yesterday you both were running around and scraping your knees up in the garden! And as for the Prince Cor- it doesn't seem too long ago that he was a fisherman's son named Shasta and didn't know a horse from a haystack!"

"It wasn't so long ago," Corin told him. "That's why it's all so hard, Bree. I could've done with another seven years of being children with Cor and Aravis- and I know he could have, too. Father ruling, pulling pranks on the guard and the cook, giving Lord Darrin mayhem in lessons, knocking Cor down on the practice courts without fear that he'd bash me off Serge here an hour later-"he laughed, but it was a little regretful.

"Now you may still be merry and brave, but you must also be responsible, and you don't quite know how, nor how to cope with all the change that is expected of you," said Brindee in summation.

"That's just it," said Corin. "Cor doesn't, either."

I felt I could- but I didn't know how I could go about it- or even how my efforts would be received. I frowned. "If I could be of any help…"

He cut me off. "You are, Aravis. Just by being you, you're an enormous help. Surely he's told you that, or he's more of an idiot than I thought."

The next morning even the smells of the awakening garden after the night's rain could not calm my spirit. Cor had come to supper the night prior- but had not said a word to Corin or myself and had gone to his own room as soon as he possibly could. The worst part was his look- he hadn't looked angry, exactly, like Corin had said. His face had just looked sort of dead. I had seen him annoyed. I had seen him angry. I had seen him so stern it frightened me. But I had never seen him as out of spirits as he had been last night. This morning I had met Corin taking my breakfast platter to the kitchens, and he'd told me it was no better.

I wondered what on earth had set him off. He was in love; he was supposed to be wooing and getting married to this woman neither I nor Corin had ever heard about. That might upset the ladies he wasn't marrying. That might worry Corin and make Bree nervous. It might be driving me to distraction. But it oughtn't to be upsetting him. He ought to be the happiest he'd ever been- not going around like someone had died and he was at a funeral. He should be singing in the hallways and telling Corin and I all about her, not punching Corin and refusing even to look at me, for all his confidences not two days past.

King Lune stopped me on my way back into the castle. "Aravis, my child," he called. I curtsied, and forced myself to smile.

"Your Majesty?"

"I have been waiting for you this half hour," he said. "I know 'tis your habit to pass this way of a morning. Will you walk with an old man and lend him your ear?"

"Gladly, Your Majesty," I said, taking his arm, glad of the distraction from my own worried thoughts. He turned us about towards the garden again and led me southwards through the beds.

"I have not had a chance to speak with you since our guests departed," he said, speaking in the more informal manner he used when among only his sons or me. "Lord George, I believe, was most unhappy to take his leave."

I made a face. "I suppose he was. He will get over it soon enough, I expect."

"You were not partial to him, then?"

"The infatuation was all upon his side, Your Majesty," I told him.

He had led us to my own little rose arbor- now grey in the still chill air, but still a lovely place to sit. He gestured for me to sit. I did so, and he sat down beside me. "Milady, have you given any thought to your future?" he asked. "These five years it has been my pleasure to watch you grow into a gracious and wise young woman, but I cannot help but wonder, my dear, if you should be happy here much longer devoting yourself to an old man and his sons alone."

I wondered why everyone was so set on me being grown up and married all of a sudden. I looked at him, and shook my head. "Of course I should be happy, Your Majesty," I said. "I've no desire to leave here. I've no desire to leave you or your sons." His steady green eyes, undimmed for all his now-grey hair and increasing wrinkles, regarded me seriously.

"Have you no desire, though, Lady Aravis, for a husband and children? You have grown into a lady wise and fair. You could have your pick of handsome noblemen- indeed, couldst have had half a dozen if you chose already."

I considered his words. With Hwin and Corin, it was easy enough to declare I'd never marry, but this was King Lune. In my time in Archenland he had been as a father to me, but I remembered my own father, and a chill seemed to go through me. "Does your Majesty wish me to marry?" I asked finally. The worst part was, I thought, that if he did, I'd do it. He loved me well, and knew he wouldn't force me to marry someone dreadful, at least. The prospect of marriage at all was still horrible, though.

"You misunderstand me, dear," the good King said, comprehending me instantly and patting my hand. "I could quite selfishly keep you here at court until I died and Cor my son was king. It is only for your sake that I wonder if you might be happier wed."

I relaxed, then. My heart warmed towards the dear King again, and I sought to set his mind at ease. "Why should I be, sir? Here at your court I am appreciated. You love me and your sons are my dear friends. To attend you is no disgrace, and indeed, I know that I am as free as the very air. Truthfully, to leave you or your sons to wed away would grieve me more than to die alone after a lifetime of love and appreciation and good work done here for you and yours."

I had always spoken freely with King Lune. He invited confidence that way. Now as I spoke my words surprised me a bit. Corin had been right. I would not leave. King Lune did not wish me to leave, and I found myself feeling what I spoke even more intensely than I spoke it. I should never marry. If I died alone, even if I should be forgotten by Cor and his wife, and Corin were always away- I could not leave. I recalled that story the queens of Narnia had told me long ago. The one of the young woman and her mother-in-law. I never had learned how the story ended. But mine was her choice, in all its sweetness, and in all its bitterness.

King Lune smiled, and something in his eyes sparkled in triumph. "Thank you, Aravis. Your loyalty does you great credit, and it takes a great weight from my mind. Truly, I should hate to bid you farewell. Tell me, what think you of my son Corin?"

I wondered at the change of subject, but answered, "Corin is as my own dear brother. He is merry and brave of heart, and does your Majesty great credit."

"And Cor?"

I looked down at my hands. "Cor was my first friend in Archenland," I said, "and he has grown ever dearer to me as the years have passed. You say I have grown? Then he has grown seven-fold. He was brave and good before; now I do believe he is wise." I hesitated. "Sometimes I think he is a bit more forthright than he ought to be- but he is as true a young man as I have ever seen. Even were he not your Majesty's heir, he is the one person that I should trust with the crown once you are gone."

"You speak of him with pride and affection," King Lune said, his voice unreadable. I did not see his face. I could not look at him.

"I do. For I hold him in such."

"He trusts and respects you as well," he said.

I did not raise my eyes. "He is my dearest friend," I said simply. "Sir, I think I have done something to hurt him." Now I looked at him. He frowned at me.

"Have you quarreled then?"

"No. The last time we spoke together for any length of time- two days ago upon returning from Tirravale- things were as they ever are. But since, he has been strange. Yesterday he seemed to be avoiding me, and you saw how he was at supper."

King Lune did not look troubled. In fact, though he did not smile, his eyes sparkled, and I saw again that something akin to triumph in his gaze. "I would wager you and he will make it up again, whatever the problem," he said. "No doubt it is some misunderstanding. But the day you and he quarrel and do not make it up again is the day the sun rises a black sun, dear."

I smiled, comforted by this. I resolved to speak with Cor alone the next time I could, to find out what the problem was and to make things right between us. "Thank you, Your Majesty."

He rose, groaning. "Ah, I cannot move as I once could." He extended his hand to help me to rise and began walking again with me towards Anvard. "Thank you, milady, for talking with me. In Aslan's name, the day you came to us was a blessed one!"

"But of course, Your Majesty," I grinned. "That day was the day your kingdom was saved and your eldest restored to you!"

He shook his head. "That was the day before, Madam Impertinence, blessed as well, but you have been as a crowning jewel to the glory of Archenland these last few years."

I felt my cheeks grow warm with pleasure, and said nothing. We walked in companionable silence until he arrived at the throne room. "Come, Lady Aravis," he said. "No doubt I've supplicants to attend to, and you, dear child, have better things to do than to wait attendance on an old man."

I shook my head. "Never," I told him. I stood up on tiptoe and kissed his cheek.

"Run along," he said, smiling fondly.

A/N: THIS has been a labour of love, readers (pun intended). Whereas for most of this story I have had at least three chapters ahead of what I've published nearly ready, now I am working three at once- the very three I'm trying to get out to you. I have struggled and struggled with this part of the story, and I'm still struggling with the next bit. It won't be original, of course. For one it's a fanfiction, and for two I'm not quite equal to really brilliant romance. I've been inspired by Charlotte Bronte, L.M. Montgomery, and Jane Austen all in the writing of this, and I might as well give the dear old girls credit for it. I've written half a dozen ways this next chapter could go- the third day from Tirravale (because three is both a magical and holy number, and ought to be used in storytelling whenever possible). We'll see how it turns out. I'll probably rewrite it three times at least!

God Bless!

LMSharp