Author's Note: Hey guys, sorry it's taken so long to update. I had writer's block, way too much school, exams, and I'm prepping for a trip to the UK. Otherwise, I'd just like to say that I felt absolutely no obligation to post this chapter, because well, no one really seemed to like the story. I got way less positive feedback than I had hoped, and yet didn't get any suggestions or questions. I can't make it better if I don't know what's wrong. And on that note, I'm going to present the next chapter of After All.

Chapter 28

She looked back, but all she could see was the students milling on the platform, jostling to get on or off the train. Taking a deep breath she gagged on the heavy stench of oil and smoke and metal. This was most definitely not her world, and she looked around for the ones who knew where that was. Choking back a sob as she then realized she was alone; she picked up her bags and hurried onto the train, somehow knowing she needed to take this train to get to school. 'Oh Aslan, please let me find him,' she pleaded silently, taking a seat in the far corner of the car.

Faintly, she heard someone call, "Aren't you coming, Phyllis?" but she didn't bother to look. There were four names she was waiting, seeking, to hear, and that certainly wasn't one of them. With a sigh, she lost herself in memories of another time she'd had no true memory, and fought tears down for a while.

Later, at the horrible prison called a school, she sought a small courtyard garden once she'd checked in and dropped her things off at her room. Removing her jacket, shoes, socks, and tie, she dropped them on a stone bench before climbing high into the welcoming branches of an old apple tree above it. This world was so very different, only a shell of what it had once been, and even though she knew the trees had life in them, they seemed so lifeless, so dead. There was something so painful in the simple action of touching the branches that she could feel her heart breaking into pieces. She had taken the life in Narnia for granted, and now, in this empty world, in this hollow world, she knew where something had faded away. She could feel it like a loss of her own soul in this shadow of a world that she had not touched in nearly fourteen hundred years. Tears dripped from her cheeks, falling like glitter to the grass below the tree, though the Lost Princess never noticed.

The Lady of Goldlight cried until she could cry no more, longing all the while for the pair of strong arms that had always held her as if their owner could shield her from her pain. The Princess of the Far North prayed for the music in the wind and the voices in the streams and the songs in the trees. The Guardian wished for the weight of her sword on her hip and daggers hidden. The Vigilant Princess ached for the people she had lost so long ago and smiled for those she knew to be in good hands. The Princess of Old needed for her memories to return to keep her going when she couldn't go back. The Queen with no Crown pleaded for her unborn child to see the sun one day.

But most of all, Evelyn cried for the world. She cried for the loss, for the fading, for the hollowness. She cried for the emptiness and the faithlessness, the magicless-ness and the blindness. She cried for the darkness, for the dullness, for the lifelessness.

She cried as she had never cried, the pain reaching deep into her heart. There was no one to comfort her, no one to ease her pain, no one to hold her as she cried, but she only cried for a little while.

Eventually, the Honorable Princess raised her head, drying her tears away. The Lady of the North dropped easily from the tree, determined now to throw herself into this training as she had with Orieus. The Last Princess was driven now to dive into her studies. The Kingsshield was intent now on retaining her knowledge from Narnia, never losing touch with the person she had been there.

'You are seventeen, but that doesn't mean you have to act like a child. But no one can know of Narnia. You are of Narnia, and once of Narnia, always of Narnia,' she promised herself, lifting her chin as she gathered her things and replaced them on herself.

Evelyn was careful, trying not to let her experience show, but it was hard. Narnia was engraved deep within her. Her marks stayed higher than ever, and she didn't quite know it, but all her teachers thought she was exceptionally gifted. There were no girls like her, so well rounded in arithmetic and physics and dancing and music and history and Latin and everything else the school could throw at her. She loved the horsewoman-ship lessons, but when asked how she rode well, she simply supplied that she'd ridden in the country. Girls loved to listen to her sing and watch her dance, things she didn't do for them often. She managed to get a hold of a weighted wooden sword one free weekend and often strayed out into her quiet corner courtyard garden to practice.

And just as in Narnia, her flaws were apparent too, but no one teased her for her lack of embroidery skill or her fear of needles. No one laughed at her for her odd birthmarks or her stage freight. No one whispered about her fear of snakes or her lack of gossiping habits. No, the girls learned early on that if you were kind to Evelyn, she was quick to stand up for you. They all learned how she valued honesty and loyalty. It was easy for them to see how she could get the better of you with just a simple word or a look. None of them knew why, but every girl in their grade saw her as the girl you loved to be friends with and the girl you never wanted to be enemies with. They could all feel her quiet leadership, and that year, their class amazed all their teachers and instructors.

"It's all that McGold girl. She's such a role model to them. Even with her oddness," one teacher remarked once.

"Of course it's her. It' her oddness that makes it her," another retorted.

"What do you think taught her to be that way?" a third asked.

"I've heard all four of her brothers and her father are serving on the Continent. Maybe that's why," one told the others.

"Perhaps. Have you seen her drawings? She's always drawing these landscapes and these beautiful creatures. When I asked her one, she said the landscapes were out in the country, and the creatures were only part of a story," another sighed.

"What about her poetry? She writes about these two Kings and two Queens and I feel like I can see them. She's so good at capturing them in her writing, it's like she knew them personally."

"Have you ever watched her dance? She and a younger girl, Susan Pevensie I think, do these remarkable dances, and they always say they learned them in the country. I have never seen, let alone learned, these versions of the dances they do."

"Susan is odd too. She and her sister, Lucy. All three of them carry this seriousness, like they've already been adults. They aren't normal children."

Unknown to Evelyn as she carried on as only could, all these things and more were said through the first semester. But she never really cared. She held her head high and stayed strong until one day she was summoned inside to the dining hall with the other girls. She took her familiar seat beside Lucy, across from Susan, grateful as always that not only had they saved her seat but had found her those weeks ago in all her loneliness. "Ladies, please," Headmistress called for their attention as Lucy took Evelyn's stiff hand.

"As you know, Holiday Break is only three weeks away. On the eve of the recess, as is tradition, we will be hosting the boys of Hendon House for the Christmas Ball. I expect that as the hostesses, you will welcome them all, and perhaps even perform for them. I will be posting a list during tomorrow's tea for signups for you ladies to volunteer to perform. It will stay up for the next two weeks. After that, I will post my choices. Everyone is expected to attend unless a specified reason is given to me in person. Dismissed," Headmistress told them.

"Christmas is only three weeks away?" Evelyn breathed.

"Ev, are you alright?" Lucy took in her friend's pale face and wide eyes and glanced at Susan.

"I, I think so, Your Majesty," the blonde murmured. "I haven't been to my house in so long, Lu. I haven't seen my brothers since they went off to the war," she added.

"And that was before Narnia, wasn't it?" the Gentle Queen asked, reaching over to take Evelyn's other hand.

The Princess nodded, and then took a deep breath. She glanced down at her arm and Lucy saw a flicker of dread in her eyes. But when Evelyn tightened the muscles in her arm subconsciously, the Valiant Queen knew it was a flicker of emotion not her own. "They're alright, Ev, you know that," the youngest Queen whispered.

"Do they, Your Majesty?" the Guardian replied, smiling softly.

"Come then, we're in need of dresses I think," the Gentle Queen, ever the one in charge of their fashion, stood, lifting Evelyn's hand as she did. The two other girls got to their feet as Susan released Evelyn, and they smiled at each other, walking with proud heads aloft as they left the hall.

The girls and their teachers could almost see the crowns perched atop their heads and the flowing gowns trailing on the floor. For a moment, all of them bowed ever so slightly forward, not enough so that they noticed that their neighbor had done so, but enough to make them straighten once more to go about their own business.

The Gentle Queen and the Valiant Queen walked on either side of the Vigilant Princess, and somewhere in the wind they heard the softest of roars. But for the rest of the day, the three of them could be seen with the brightest of smiles on their faces.

Author's Note: Hey guys, so you read, now please review. I really want to know if anyone thinks I should finish this. I don't want to waste my time writing, typing, and publishing it if no one is going to tell me what they think. Happy summer!