Ch 37: Doubt Me Not
Cori paced through the apple grove at Cayo's side, barefoot to her knees because she'd rolled up her loose breeches and removed her boots. The wolf in her liked the feel of real earth under her feet instead of bulky leather soles. The damp grass threaded between her toes, springy and pleasant. "Was it a mistake to come?" she asked the horse. "Caspian could have sent anyone."
"But he sent you," Cayo said. "You know as well as he that you are the best liaison to Narnia that Telmar could hope to have. You understand magic better than any of the diplomats of the court."
"I don't know everything," she said, not meeting the horse's eye, "and Narnia is more than its magic."
The welcome luncheon had been almost as awkward as the meals Cori remembered on her arrival last summer. Then, she'd been torn between misplaced infatuation with Edmund and a naive confusion at the way Peter watched her.
He was no less confusing now. She'd felt his silent gaze on her from the first course all the way through the last. But now, she bore his stare with the same stoicism that had gotten her through her first months back in Telmar.
"You missed Narnia," Cayo said.
Instead of answering, Cori plucked an apple from a nearby tree and polished it with a kerchief. Eyes on the fruit, she almost didn't see Peter until she was right on top of him. She pulled up short and bowed. "Good afternoon, Your Majesty."
"Excuse us?" Peter said to Cayo.
The stallion nodded and walked away.
Peter stared at her. "Have you read the treaty document Caspian sent to me?"
"It was sealed," she said, holding the stare. Finally she lowered her gaze to the apple and resumed polishing it with slow deliberation.
"He's asked me to consider marrying within your house," Peter said. Cori kept her attention on the fruit. Peter's hand came down on hers and stilled her motions. "But to your sister."
The apple dropped from her hand, but he caught it. That undefinable look passed through his eyes again. His gaze shifted to her armor. A brief, small smile passed over his lips and disappeared. He touched the links on the short sleeve of her mail shirt and drew his hand away as if he thought the contact unwelcome. "It doesn't fit you."
She tucked the kerchief away in a pouch, still stinging with the news of Caspian's proposed treaty. "It fits the werewolf."
His gaze roamed over the rest of her armor--shirt and pauldrons and belt and breeches--and flew skyward the instant it fell on her bare legs. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath.
She couldn't keep the tremor from her voice. "I'm sorry to have offended you, Your Majesty, but I've been stabbed once and I don't intend it to happen again." She started to turn away.
An iron grip closed over her arm. She looked back.
He'd opened his eyes, but hadn't lowered his gaze from the cloudy sky overhead. "It's not the armor, Cori."
His grip remained on her arm, and the werewolf inside her gave a faint, threatened growl. "Let go, Your Majesty."
Now he looked at her--bright-blue eyes glaring into her own. "Peter."
"I said let go." She pulled her arm away. The memory of every disgusted Telmarine came rushing back to her. The thought that he might share that opinion now slammed through her like the sword-strike that had once nearly killed her. "You needn't force yourself to speak familiar to me," she said. "I am fully aware of your reaction to me when I arrived this morning. You could barely speak to me at all." Her voice shook. "I know what I am, and I don't expect--"
He dropped the apple and grabbed her wrists again, prompting a snarl to bubble in her throat. "And what are you, exactly?" he demanded.
She let go of the mental chain she kept on the beast and transformed, filling out the shirt and rolled-up breeches. Taller now, she met him eye to eye. His mouth fell open, but didn't pull his hands away from her silver-furred arms. She growled in his face. "I'm this."
Instead of dropping her arms, he jerked her closer. His eyes blazed. "Do you think you're going to scare me?"
She flattened her ears and growled louder.
"Is that what you were doing for six months? Trying to scare me away? Damn it, Cori, I wanted you before you were bitten, and I wanted you after. And I want you now."
The growl cut short in her throat. Then she recognized the look in his eyes, because she smelled the echo of it on his skin. Pain.
"What did you think I was doing last summer?" he asked. "Proposing out of pity?" His hand came up and his fingers threaded through the fur of her cheek. Cori froze. No one--no one--had ever dared to touch her in this form. Not by choice.
His eyes softened. "It's you who ought to pity me," he said. "For months I've done nothing but worry and miss you and worry. Even if you are more than capable of taking care of yourself. Don't think I've forgotten how you saved my life at the Stone Table that night."
She reined in the wolf and shifted back to her human shape. His hand remained warm on her cheek. She fumbled for words, and then asked, "What about Ines?"
"There's only one woman I've ever been interested in. All of her. Everything she is." He took her hands in his. "The question still stands, Cori. I've been asking empty air for six months. Please marry me."
Her chest tightened and something burst inside her. Tears poured down her cheeks. "I missed you too." She threw herself into his arms and hugged him hard. "Ask me again, quick, so I can say yes."