Chapter 21

Edmund groaned, his shoulder feeling on fire. "Edmund!" Georgie cried in fear, her voice coming back to her. He felt her body beneath his from when he had fallen.

"If I've died and gone to Aslan's Country, I must say, this isn't so bad," he joked, his voice strained in pain.

"Edmund!" she cried again, this time in an aggravated tone, attempting to carefully push against him to move from where she was sprawled on the ground. Edmund drew himself up carefully onto his knees, allowing Georgie to rise. She quickly held him up as he began to sway, woozy from his wound.

"Are you okay?" Peter asked, having run to his wounded brother.

"Aside from this arrow sticking out of my shoulder you mean?" Edmund asked sarcastically. Peter waved over Captain Perth, who had ran with him to where Edmund had been shot, bending down to inspect the wound when he reached Edmund. "We need to get the king inside, Your Majesty, before we can remove the arrow. It's in too deep to remove it here," Captain Perth said to Peter after inspecting the embedded arrow.

"Thanks. I would prefer not to bleed to death in the middle of a field," Edmund said.

Peter sighed. Even wounded he still manages to use sarcasm, he thought. "Fine, we'll wait until we are inside to remove the arrow," Peter claimed. The two men leaned down and helped Edmund to his feet, supporting his weight as they made their way into the castle. Georgie hurried close behind the three men, worried that Edmund had lost too much blood, when the three stopped and Peter looked over his shoulder at her and said, "Georgiana, go find Lucy and tell her to bring her cordial. Also tell Susan we need to meet once Edmund has been looked after. This wasn't an accident, I wager."

"No," Edmund said in a strained voice.

"Ed?" Peter questioned.

"G, don't get Lucy's cordial. This is just a scratch. No need to waste that stuff on it," he explained without turning around.

"Are you sure, Your Majesty?" Captain Perth asked, concerned that the king's blood loss was more than he realized. "I'm quite sure," he said firmly. He turned slowly to look at Georgie, a weak smile appearing on his ashen face, and said, "Go find Susan and Lucy, G. Tell them we'll all meet in the sitting room to discuss this. Don't worry. I'll be fine."

"You'd better be, Edmund Pevensie," she ordered, her voice hard from worry. She watched as the three made their way back to the castle before turning and running to find Susan and Lucy.

Georgie stood alone in the Great Hall at the foot of the dais where the five thrones sat, empty. Her arms were crossed over her chest tightly, her body rigid, as she stared at the farthest one on the left, studying it through hard, cold eyes. How did things get so bad, she thought. Edmund had been back from Galma for a week and the two had barely said a word to each other. When they did manage to speak, they were short and cold to each other. They had only fought once since he had been back, but the silence between them was more damaging to Georgie than any heated word could have ever been.

What have I done to us? Georgie felt the rigidness go out of her body, her arms going limp to her side. A sudden urge to feel Edmund's presence overtook her and her body unconsciously moved towards his throne. She stepped onto the first step of the dais, willing herself to stop. What am I doing? What will this do? she thought, mentally scolding herself for allowing to wander closer to him, even if he wasn't there. Her body responded by stepping onto the second step and walking towards his throne. She ran her fingers over the arm of the sculpted marble chair, imagining his arm was beneath her fingertips instead of the cold stone. She touched the high back of the throne, where his head might have touched, and thought of how it would feel to run her fingers through his hair. Something I'll never feel, she thought sadly.

Closing her eyes, she moved around to the front of the throne and allowed herself to slowly sit. She felt his presence surround her, feeling more at peace than she had in the months that had passed since that disastrous night. Georgie lifted her fingers and pressed them to her lips, remembering how wonderful Edmund's lips had felt against hers. A tiny tear trickled down her cheek, the feeling of regret filling her. She placed her hand back on the arm of the chair, and allowed happier memories of her and Edmund. Her Edmund. My Edmund, she thought, a small smile appearing on her face as those memories replaced her regretful feelings.

"What are you doing?" cried an angry voice, it echoing in the emptiness of the room. Georgie's eyes shot open and she saw Edmund storming towards her. She jumped up, embarrassed that she had been caught.

"I-I was-," she began, stuttering as her mind raced to think of an excuse. While she felt perfectly normal for her behavior, to others it might seem rather odd, and she worried Edmund might find her to be quite insane for sitting in his throne wearing such an odd expression.

"Is your throne so lacking that you feel the need to overtake mine?" he asked cruelly, causing Georgie's temper to flare.

"I have no intention to 'overtake' your throne," she said loudly.

"Then what were you doing?" he snapped. "I was just-" she started, but stopped before she admitted the truth to him.

"Forget it," she said angrily and stormed down the dais' steps, walking past him. Edmund reached out and grabbed her arm, spinning her around to stare at him, her face inches from his. "Tell me," he nearly growled at her. She had never seen his face as angry as it was now. Georgie stared into his eyes, which were as hard and cold towards her as hers were to him before finally spitting out, "I missed you." His eyes widened briefly before softening and he let her arm go. "You what?" he asked incredulously.

"I hate what's come between us. You left for months because of me. We haven't spoken at all. I've missed my friend," she quickly explained, her words nearly running together before her voice caught on her last sentence.

"G, I'm so sorry," he said, pulling her into a tight embrace. Georgie wrapped her hands around his waist, burying her face in his chest. "I'm sorry too," she said softly as she pulled back and stared up at his smiling face. His warm, deep eyes nearly took her breath away. I suppose I should be content with him like this, if I can't have him as mine, she thought, her feelings of regret returning swiftly.

"Why were you sitting on my throne though? You looked-" Beautiful, he thought, "content."

Georgie smiled slightly before answering, "I needed to feel your happiness again. The last time you sat on your throne you were happy. Things were good. We were good," she explained quietly, glancing towards his throne and then back up at his face. "I thought maybe some of that magic was still there."

"It's always there when it comes to us," Edmund said, wrapping an arm around her shoulders as they walked towards the door.

"What is taking so long?" Georgie cried, pacing the sitting room where she waited with Susan and Lucy while the doctor was with Edmund. Peter had offered to help the doctor and was in Edmund's room with them.

"Georgiana, please sit. The doctor should be done soon and everything will be alright," Lucy said gently.

"But what if it's not?" Georgie spat out. "How do you know he'll be okay? You don't know everything!"

"Georgiana, if you do not sit down immediately, I will call the guards and have them throw you back in your cell you once stayed in. You're irritating me," Susan said flatly as she flipped through a large stack of papers, not looking up as she spoke. Georgie stared murderously at the back of Susan's head. "And you can stop giving me that look while you're at it," Susan said, again without looking up, causing Lucy to giggle. Georgie sighed and sat down on the sofa where Lucy was already seated, propping her elbows on her knees and resting her chin on her hands.

"He'll be okay," Lucy said, rubbing Georgie's back comfortingly. The doctor had been with Edmund for over an hour before the door to Edmund's room opened, Peter and the doctor stepping through it. The three women looked up at Peter hopefully.

"He's fine. Already complaining about having to remain in bed," he said, smiling at them.

"Can we see him?" Georgie asked, jumping up from the sofa.

The doctor glared at her disapprovingly before saying, "You may, but please do not overexcite him. The king has lost a lot of blood from his wound." Georgie nodded quickly before hurrying past Peter and the doctor and entering Edmund's room. Peter walked the doctor out, promising he would make sure Edmund received care and rest.

Turning back to his sisters, he said, "We need to talk."

"Edmund?" Georgie said softly as she shut the door behind her and walked closer to Edmund's large bed.

He turned towards her, a bright smile on his pale face. "I told you I would be fine, G. Stop worrying," he teased her, seeing lines of worry beginning to form on her face. She walked to the bed and sat on the edge of it. "I don't know what I would have done if I lost you," she said softly, smoothing his hair before he clasped her hand. "If you start mothering me like Susan most likely will whenever she comes in here, so help me, G, I will send you out," he said sternly.

Georgie giggled before leaning down and placing a small kiss on his lips.

"The doctor said not to overexcite him," came a voice from behind her. Turning, she saw Peter standing in the open doorway, which she had not heard open, his arms crossed over his chest. His voice had sounded as stern as Edmund's but his face had broken into a wide grin.

Georgie rolled her eyes at him, matching his grin, when Edmund said, "Ignore him. Overexcite me."

Georgie and Peter both laughed before she leaned down and kissed him again, this time on his cheek. "You need to rest. My birthday party is tomorrow and I've already reserved my first dance for you, so I expect you to be in top shape. Otherwise I'm going to have to dance with that dreadful prince from Terebinthia," she joked. "Fine, fine," Edmund grumbled, an unkingly pout forming on his face.

"Come out here, Georgiana," Peter said. Georgie rose from Edmund's bed, and with a final kiss, she turned and walked out of the room. "Get some rest, Ed. We'll just be out here if you need us," Peter said to his brother before following Georgie out of the room and shutting the door behind him.

"Who would do this?" Susan asked. The four were discussing Edmund being shot. Peter had brought the arrow that had struck Edmund and shown it to his sisters and Georgie. It had long golden feathers on it and a gold tip. This isn't a common arrow, Georgie thought, her worries increasing as she wondered where it had come from. And more importantly, who shot it, she mentally added.

"You don't recognize the arrow, Su?" Peter asked, hinting that he knew where it had come from and that Susan should as well.

"It does look familiar..." she trailed off, realization lighting up her eyes. "It's Calormene!" she whispered sharply. Peter nodded, his serious face growing angry.

"Rishdamar?" Lucy nervously questioned.

Peter shrugged before answering, "I don't know. Captain Perth had scouts searching the woods surrounding the archery field, but found no traces of someone who might have shot Edmund. I also made sure Rishdamar was questioned as to the whereabouts of his traveling party, but all members of it were accounted for. But this arrow is definitely Calormene."

"Could someone have made an arrow that simply looks Calormene? Or maybe stolen it from one of Rishdamar's guards he has here and used it?" Georgie asked.

Peter shrugged again. "I don't think this is an imitation Calormene arrow; it looks too genuine. These feathers are from a type of bird that is kept by the Tisroc, who breeds them especially to use their feathers on Calormen's arrows. And the tip is solid gold, which is ridiculous to use, but Calormen likes even their simple weapons to be over extravagant. But it could have been stolen from one of the Calormene guards. Right now, everything is a possibility," Peter explained.

"But why would someone shoot Edmund?" Lucy asked. The others were silent, unsure of why anyone would want their younger brother dead.

"Peter!" Edmund yelled from his room, causing the four to turn quickly to face his door, startled by the intensity of his yell. Peter stood and quickly went to Edmund's room, followed closely by his sisters and Georgie. When Peter opened the door and walked in, Edmund sat up, wincing in pain.

"Edmund, your shoulder!" Susan said quickly.

He ignored her and said, "I don't think they were aiming for me!"

"What do you mean? You were the one hit!" Peter said, confused at his brother's incredulous idea.

Edmund shook his head. "I'm well aware I got hit, Pete. But the arrow wasn't meant for me," he stated, staring hard at Georgie. She gasped loudly as his words sunk in. Peter, Susan and Lucy turned to look at her, their eyes confused at what had passed between the two.

"No," she whispered.

"What are you two talking about?" Susan cried.

"I moved closer to her right before I was hit. The arrow was meant for her, not me. Had I not moved, it would have struck her throat," Edmund explained, his voice growing cold and hard with anger. "She would have been dead."

"She would have been dead."

Edmund's words continued to echo in Georgie's head the next morning as she and the Pevensies sat for breakfast. Edmund had felt better when he woke up and decided he was well enough to get out of bed. His arm was currently wrapped in a sling and he was still pale from his loss of blood, but his spirits were high as he laughed jovially with his siblings. Georgie sat in a daze, not joining in with the others' laughter, staring at her plate of untouched food. What if it had been me? she thought. It was meant for me. It should have been me! Then Edmund wouldn't be hurt. Although I would be dead. Then he would be hurt. Either way, he's hurt because of me! Her mind raced trying to remember why he had moved. What had been so important? She remembered his hand moving up, the racing of her heart, the feel of him being closer to her.

"G?" Edmund said, noticing her stillness. Georgie's face was contorted in a look of confusion mixed with disgust. When she didn't respond, he repeated louder, "G!" Slowly glancing up at his worried face, Georgie slowly shook herself out of her trance. "Is something wrong?" he inquired worriedly.

"No," she simply stated, shaking her head slightly.

"Okay," Edmund said slowly, not believing her. He returned his attention to his siblings, making sure to keep an eye on Georgie. Her behavior was bothering him and he knew something was wrong. He quietly sighed as he watched her push the food around on her plate and making a half-hearted attempt to look as though she was listening to the others at the table. He knew her mind was miles away thinking about whatever was bothering her.

Peter had called a meeting after breakfast with the Council and as he, Susan and Lucy stood to leave to go to the Council's chambers, Edmund spoke up. "G and I will meet you there in a few minutes," he said, keeping his eyes on Georgie, who lifted her head to meet his worried gaze.

"Don't be late," Peter warned as they turned to leave. When the door closed behind them, Edmund stood and walked around the table to where Georgie sat, leaning against the table and looking down at her. "What is it?" he asked after several moments of silence. Georgie stared straight ahead and slowly shook her head. Edmund reached down and gently cupped her chin, lifting her face towards him. "Don't. I know there's something wrong. Tell me," he ordered softly.

"You were shot. It was supposed to be me," she said, her dead voice void of any emotion.

Edmund suddenly jumped up and grabbed Georgie's shoulders, wincing at the pain in his right arm, giving her a slight shake. "That's what you're upset about? That I got shot when you didn't?" he yelled angrily.

"You're hurt because of me!" she cried, pointing to his arm in the sling.

"Well you're alive because of me! That makes us even!" he retorted, letting her go abruptly and turning to leave.

"Edmund, wait!" she called after him as he stormed towards the door. The fear and hurt in her voice made him turn, causing his anger towards her to diminish slightly, but not entirely.

"In all the years I've known you," he began slowly, struggling to control his voice. "I have never seen you think so idiotically. You've been irrational, scared, worried; those things I love about you. But to think that you should be hurt, no, killed, so that I would escape injury is too much, Georgiana. That's weakness talking, and you've never been weak."

"Edmund," Georgie pleaded, but was cut off by Edmund's raised hand.

"Don't," he repeated. "We have a meeting to get to. Let's go before we're late." Georgie nodded slightly and willed herself to follow Edmund, the two walking in silence to the Council's chamber.

The Council meeting lasted for hours, several heated arguments arising between its members and the kings and queens over the attempted assassination of Princess Georgiana and the injury it caused to King Edmund. Georgie had barely paid attention during the meeting, her focus remaining on her Edmund's heated words to her. I have been acting weak. Like a coward, she thought. She knew Edmund would give his life to save hers, just as she would give her life to save his. I can't blame myself for this and hate that he's hurt and I'm not. I'm not weak.

"I don't care why this happened!" Edmund shouted, fuming. His yell caused Georgie to jump in her throne. She turned to look at him and saw a fierce scowl on his face.

"But Your Majesty," began one of the Council members, but was cut off by Edmund.

"No! I want the bastard who did this and endangered Princess Georgiana found, and executed. No discussion!" he yelled, emphasizing his point by banging his fist on the arm of his throne.

"Of course, Your Majesty," the Council member agreed.

Peter stood and glanced quickly at Georgie before saying, "Our next discussion needs to be on whether we continue with Princess Georgiana's birthday party tonight. There is a good chance whoever shot King Edmund could be at the party waiting for an opportunity to strike again."

"No!" Susan cried, jumping up and glaring at Peter. "We can't cancel this party. It's Georgiana's birthday. I'm not going to have it ruined because of this. Isn't it bad enough Edmund was hurt?"

"Susan, I-" Georgie began, but stopped when she saw Susan's stern glare turned on her.

"Georgiana, if we hide, they've won. Regardless of whether they get to you or not." Susan turned to the Council before continuing, "We have to put on a strong front, show them we aren't afraid of them." The Council members nodded, some clapping in response to Susan's argument.

"Ed?" Peter asked, turning to his brother.

Edmund stared at Georgie for a few moments before answering in a monotone voice, "I agree. I'm not going to have them ruin her birthday."

Peter nodded and said, "Alright. Then we continue on as planned. But I want the number of guards doubled at every entrance and every Council member armed. Captain Perth will monitor the Great Hall and I will instruct him to place some of his higher-ranked men at various locations in the Hall during the party. I also want guards outside the doors of our apartment and under our windows. No one gets in Cair Paravel without us knowing."

By the evening when Georgie's birthday party began, she and Edmund were barely talking. He had remained with the Council, discussing plans to find out who had shot him when Georgie, Susan and Lucy left the meeting. Susan had kept her busy getting ready for the party all afternoon and well into the evening before she saw Edmund again. He was waiting outside her door when she stepped out and the two silently walked to the Great Hall together. They entered the room stiffly after being announced and wordlessly danced the first waltz. Georgie knew she needed to talk to him, to explain to him how she felt, but with the whirl of the party going on around her, she found that it was difficult to get a moment alone with him.

She had just finished dancing with Peter when a strange accented voice said from behind him, "May I have the next dance, O Princess?" Peter turned and saw Prince Rishdamar bowing low. Peter glanced at Georgie, raising his eyebrows. He knew how his brother would react if Georgie accepted the prince's offer. He only hoped Georgie knew as well.

"I trust you remember our agreement from before, Prince," Peter warned. Prince Rishdamar glanced at Peter's sword before meeting his hard gaze, nodding that he did remember. "Princess?" Prince Rishdamar repeated, holding out his hand towards Georgie, who smiled politely and said, "You may, Prince Rishdamar." She placed her hand in his and allowed him to escort her to the floor as she cast Peter a fleeting look over her shoulder. He shook his head slowly at her and walked to where his brother was standing. "Don't look now, but Rishdamar just asked Georgiana to dance," he murmured low.

"Your husband seems very put out, O Princess," Prince Rishdamar said, his voice laced with false concern.

"I'm not married," Georgie said confusedly.

"My apologies. Your betrothed then?" he asked, raising an eyebrow at her. Their next step caused Georgie to turn, catching Edmund's deadly stare from across the room as he watched her dance.

"Oh!" she squeaked, Edmund's glare making her uncomfortable.

"Your fiance does not seem to enjoy our dancing," he chuckled.

"He isn't my fiance either, Prince Rishdamar," Georgie corrected.

This time Prince Rishdamar raised both eyebrows at her, he the confused one now. "But your-" he began, before stopping and staring at her crown.

"My what?" Georgie asked.

"Do you not know what your crown means, O Princess?" he asked, smirking at her.

"My crown? I don't understand," she said, feelings of nervousness pitting in her stomach.

"It was my understanding, O Princess, that your barbarian custom is that a princess's crown be made of bronze," he began.

"And it is," Georgie stated, feeling like she was talking to a child who knew a secret but wouldn't tell it.

"But it also has silver on it," he hinted. "It seems King Edmund's crown is made of silver, is it not?" Georgie's brow furrowed as she considered what he said. "You do not know, O Princess, what this means?" Prince Rishdamar said quietly.

Georgie shook her head and said, "No. What does it mean?"

"I understand when a princess wears a bronze crown adorned with the same metal of a king's crown, it is a sign of her relationship with that king. The second metal represents the king's protection and love of the princess. Your bronze crown has silver woven in it," he pointed out.

"I see," Georgie whispered, losing herself in thought as the realization of her crown's meaning sank in.

When the dance ended, she quickly curtsied to the prince and turned on her heel to stare at Edmund. His glare at her had not changed, but hers had. She met his stare with an equally deadly one of her own as she stalked across the room towards him. When she reached him, his glare had lessened while hers had hardened.

"What's wrong, G?" he asked, surprised at the anger in her face.

"We need to talk. Now!" she hissed, grabbing his hand and pulling him towards the balcony doors.

They stepped out onto the balcony where they had shared their first kiss. A pang of sadness passed through Georgie as she remembered that night, so many years ago, before her current angry emotions pushed that pang away. She turned quickly and pointed at Edmund, poking him in the chest as she demanded, "Tell me about my crown!"

"What?" Edmund asked incredulously, her demand being the last thing he would have ever guessed she would bring up.

"Tell me about it! Why is there silver on it? What does it mean?" she cried, poking him in the chest with each question. He grabbed her hand to stop her from poking him, his chest beginning to hurt from her hard pokes.

"G, you have to understand..." he started, but trailed off when she narrowed her eyes at him.

"Tell me. Now!" she yelled at him.

"Fine!" he yelled back, dropping her hand and walking past her to the balcony rail. "I designed your crown. I had them weave the silver in there. You saw Caspian's wife's crown at your crowning ceremony. You meant as much to me as she did to him. More, even. Maybe it was foolish, but I wanted to tell you that then and felt that by adding the silver to your crown, it was my way of telling you. Even if you didn't know what it meant at the time," he explained, his hands grasping the railing hard, his knuckles turning white under the strain.

"So I've been walking around, all these years, with a crown that should be worn by someone who is engaged to a king, and everyone has known. Save for me," Georgie said slowly as she grasped the meaning of Edmund's gesture.

He turned to face her, remorse apparent in his face, and said, "I'm sorry, G. I should have told you years ago."

Georgie stared silently at him before slowly breaking into a smile. "I love you," she said.

"Thank Aslan," Edmund sighed, crossing the balcony to her and wrapping her in his arms. He leaned his head down and kissed her deeply, before pulling back and whispering, "I love you, too."

Hours later when the party had ended, Georgie walked into her bedroom and shut the door, leaning against it. She closed her eyes and sighed a happy sigh, a wide smile growing on her face. Despite everything that had occurred over the past days, Georgie could barely remember a happier birthday. She reached up and pulled off her crown, opening her eyes as she looked at it. A crown that should be worn by someone who is engaged to a king, she thought, remembering her words from earlier. Her heart felt as though it would burst as she studied her crown, something she had done many times since receiving it. But tonight its intricate details meant so much more to her. They had been designed with so much love and care, just for me.

A slight creak came from the right of her, causing her to turn her head quickly in its direction. It was dark in her room, the only light was the moonlight coming through the window, which cast shadows throughout the room. I thought I had left it closed, she thought as she glanced towards her window and saw it open infinitesimally. She peered towards the place where she thought the sound had come from and gasped low when she saw a slight movement. A tall man stepped out from the shadows, an evil grin on his face. He held a long, curved knife pointed towards her. "Good evening, O Princess," he said in a quiet menacing voice.

Georgie's mind screamed, No! Not again!