A/n: Thank you QueenElenaofnarnia, LOVEM, PeterCaspianRlz, Narniafan, Emily, Aslanmane, CairParavel, GoldenAgeNarnia, Connors, EC, Evalin Ashryver, QueenLucyfan, Emma, Bella, Daphne, and all the other guests. ;D

(Village of Cair Paravel, Narnia)

~Peter's POV~

I scowled. "Look, I'm not here to prove anything to anyone. I'm just trying to buy some flowers here. Is the bouquet ready yet? You sure have an efficient way of serving your customers. I don't have forever, and I need to get back to what I'm doing."

She handed the bouquet to me, though it was more like throwing it at me. "Don't you mean you have to get back to who you're doing, Your Majesty?" She rolled her eyes and looked at me sourly.

"Yes, that's what I mean. I don't reckon it would be nice to keep them waiting, even though my bed is a comfy one," I replied dryly.

"'Them', my King?!"

"Why do you seem so shocked? Are you jealous?"

"How could you ask me that, King Peter?!"

"Why can't I ask you that?!"

"Is Your Majesty serious?! You're having sex with more than one woman at the same time?!" She almost screeched.

That was not true, but it clearly winded her up, so I rolled with it. Evidently, she was frustrated, jealous, and angry. Why? Right, it was because she cared. Oh, yes, she did.

"So what?" I snapped pointedly, wanting to provoke her since this was clearly working a lot better than I had anticipated, and I was not going to waste this opportunity. After all, this was what I was here for.

"I thought the Duchess was the only one but now, it turns out that Your Majesty is in fact —"

"In fact," I decided to finish her sentence for her but twist the ending to make her angrier. "Why don't you join us?" I cocked my head to the side and smirked smugly.

"Your Majesty?! I don't —"

Nope. Not giving her a chance to retort. "You've met Madeleine already, so you don't have to be shy. You see, I am offering you an open invitation to my bed. Feel free to drop by for a visit any time you want, and I promise you, you will never want to leave. Everything that the others get to enjoy when I bed them, you can have too, if you will only say that you love me, and that you want me back."

"I don't want you to bed other women, my King!" She exclaimed impulsively.

I almost laughed aloud because of the success I was enjoying. "Well, too bad for you, Ines Farmington, because I want to bed other women, and other women happen to want to bed me as well," I said nonchalantly.

"How could you, King Peter?! You said you love me, but your actions contradict your words," she said accusatorily.

I closed in on her and glowered at her intensely. "You don't get to interfere with my sex life anymore! I gave you plenty of chances to be part of it, but you weren't interested. I am sick and tired of only having my right hand to settle my…manly predicaments. I am not in any committed relationship, so I do have the right to sleep with other women. And I will have as many women as I please. So either you suck it up, and accept that I won't be the only one in my bed, or you fix the mess you've made, the moment you broke up with me," I snarled sharply, in fuming rage.

"Suck it up?" She snorted, not at all faltering even in spite of our bodies' proximity. "I'd much rather suck something else, honestly," she said boldly, with a kind of confidence and forwardness that was too good to be true, and somewhat uncharacteristic of the Ines I knew. Had she changed so much ever since our breakup? I had no idea. All I knew was that all of a sudden, she had dropped to her knees and was trying to get me out of my pants, which she did not find too difficult. She had pulled down my breeches and my boxers, and stroked my length curiously. She took my tip in her mouth, her tongue pressing against my tip gently, as she licked me, and seemed to be enjoying herself. I couldn't help but wonder, how much of me could she take into her sweet mouth?

"HEY!" She stomped her foot and shouted at me, causing me to snap to attention once again. What the fuck just happened? I was fantasizing about her again? Dammit. I had to be, because if her mouth were full she wouldn't be able to yell at me like she was doing right now. I checked my clothes and yep, once again, I was fully dressed. Nope. No hope of getting laid just yet.

"Why does Your Majesty keep staring at the floor?! Can't you at least make the decent effort of paying attention to me when I'm talking to you, my King, please?!" She exclaimed lividly.

"It's getting a bit too hot for me to focus," I replied drawly.

"Please, Your Majesty, I think you should just go," she said tiredly. "There's no point in talking anymore. You might as well get out of here and go back to…riding your mares, whatever. It's very emotionally draining to keep up with you, King Peter."

I sighed and eyed the bouquet in despair. If she didn't want me here, then I might as well leave. I walked to the door and gripped the handle dolefully before stopping and turning around to say to her, "You know, I wish you'd love me."

I couldn't fathom her facial expression. She replied, "How do you know that I don't, Your Majesty?"

"Well, if you do, perhaps you should show it, or at least quit doing anything that might trick me into thinking otherwise."

"How, my King? How? By accepting the invitation to your bed?" In impugnation, she demurred at my suggestion, seeming to deem it preposterous. "Please get out, King Peter."

"As you wish," I said under my breath and opened the door. But when I did, and when I was about to step outside, I realized I couldn't, because someone else was standing right at the door as well, and it was the brother of the bride from last night's wedding, the person whose identity alternated between that of a friend and that of a courter to Ines. His name was Mitchell Sutton.

I groaned inwardly and walked away from the florist store anyway, and when I walked past him I bumped my shoulder against his, deliberately.

~Ines' POV~

What was wrong with His Majesty?! He seemed so dazed and bemused one moment, but the next he was making these insinuations, and then suddenly, out of nowhere, he'd send a compliment my way and confess his love for me. This was making no sense and frankly it was giving me a headache, as if my heartache wasn't bad enough already.

When he finally could bring himself to exit the store, somebody else had walked in. Not a client, but rather, Mitchell. His Majesty, on his way out, had bumped his shoulder into Mitchell's. I sighed. His Majesty needed to lose that attitude.

Mitchell came up to me and inquired, "What's happened?"

"Good question. I know just as much as you do," I responded somewhat sardonically.

"You look flustered," he commented. "Have you and King Peter been doing something interesting?"

I frowned. "Like what?" I prodded, urging him to be more specific.

"Well…how do I say this?" He thought hard for a moment before picking up a withering flower on the floor, and began peeling its petals off.

What did he think he was doing?

Dear goodness, were all men that difficult to understand?!

Wait.

A flower.

Deflowered?

"No!" I exclaimed in clarification. "No, Mitchell. He and I did not do anything of that sort, alright? Not even anything close."

"Alright, alright," he dropped the petals and held up his hands in surrender. "Then what did he come here to say to you?"

"Well," I sighed. "He told me that even though he hates me – which is to be expected, honestly – he loves me still."

"He said 'I love you'? Did you say it back?"

"No, I didn't," I groaned.

"Why didn't you? He was giving you a chance to redeem yourself and you…you didn't want it?"

"If I had given in, it would just waste my previous efforts in keeping my distance, and in ending things with him to appease his discontent subjects," I shrugged. "I wasn't even sure if he was serious; his behavior just seemed so erratic. It doesn't add up, you know. He bought flowers from me just now," I explained, and listed out the species he had bought. "I wasn't sure if he knew what those flowers had meant, seeing as he didn't even know what some of them were called, but I knew full well what all of them had meant: rejection, disappointment, stupidity, folly, jealousy, cruelty, hatred, and fickleness. All of these sentiments seemed to be explaining how he felt about me after our breakup. It just makes it hard for me to believe that he still has feelings for me."

"Well, did he say who those flowers were for?" He inquired.

"He did tell me that those flowers were for…someone else," I admitted.

"Then maybe not everything is about you," he replied. "On the contrary I think that if he was bothered to pay a visit to you then surely his feelings hadn't faded yet. There are hundreds of florist stores in Narnia; why visit yours?"

I nodded slowly. "True," I remarked. "But I had better clean this," I said, pointing at the vase I had broken when Peter had walked into the store. After cleaning up, I turned to Mitchell once more and, remembering that I was indeed supposed to be running the store to the best of my ability whilst Uncle Hugh and Aunt Eileen were out, enquired, "Have you come to buy flowers as well?"

"No. I just wanted to see how you were doing after you left so abruptly last night."

"Sonya sent you?"

"No; I came here because I wanted to. She probably doesn't even know about it," he answered. "Can't I care about your well-being simply because we're friends? I'm not doing this just because of my sister, you know."

"Well, thanks for your friendly concern, but I'd really rather not talk about myself, since, as you said, not everything is about me. I'm still alive, as you can see, so you don't have to worry about me. Let's talk about you instead. I really think that it's time I show you that I care about you too. How did the rest of the party go after my departure?"

"Oh, I met someone…" he began. "Her name is Madeleine. She's a Duchess from Terebinthia."

"Oh," I stiffened at the mention of the name.

"Yes, and…I kind of like Her Grace, I guess. And I think Her Grace likes me too, and so…I invited her to have dinner with me and my family at our new mansion tonight," he revealed.

"Aha, you'll be getting laid with her tonight. You wanna bet?" I said straightforwardly.

"What?" He shook his head in confusion. "What makes you say that?"

"Long story," I murmured.

"Why, is Her Grace known to be promiscuous?" He inquired.

"I don't know," I replied monotonously. "But if you like her then go ahead. At least one of us deserves to be happy. I know that Sonya had orchestrated our courtship, but the main purpose was just to put on a show on the night of her wedding. We can end things now so that you can pursue others that you actually do feel something for. If you think you can find love elsewhere, don't let the opportunity pass you by. I know I wouldn't. So I hope that whatever kind of person Madeleine Wakelin turns out to be, you two will get along. And whoever you decide to be with, I hope that your relationship will be a more successful one than the one I had just ended."

Mitchell smiled and held my hands, and I didn't protest. "Thank you so much. But you and I will still stay friends, won't we?"

I nodded, smiling warmly at him. "Certainly."

He was about to say something else, but the door had burst open once again, causing Mitchell to spring apart from me. My eyes widened when I saw that it was Peter who had reentered the store.

Not another word was said. He just strode toward me promptly, still with the bouquet in his hand, and without prior warning he had kissed me. My heart rate had suddenly vaulted up so rapidly and so drastically that I thought it was going to burst, that I was going to end up in flames. When his lips were on mine, I realized that he was everything I had ever wanted in life. Like a child opening presents on Christmas Day. Like a beggar who had managed to find leftover food in a pile of trash. Like a man dying of thirst finding an oasis.

I had no idea how long that kiss had lasted. It felt like a split of a second, but it also felt like countless infinities. All I knew was that I never wanted to let him go. But he was the one who pulled apart first. He shoved the bouquet into my hands and, panting, he spoke. "When I said that the flowers were for Madeleine, I lied. You are the intended recipient. You are the one I want."

Right after his dramatic profession of love, he shot a slightly hostile glare at Mitchell, while I just stood there, not knowing what to do or how to react or what there was I could say. It seemed Peter felt the same way as well, as he didn't say or do anything else. He was out the door already, before I could give him a response.

"Well," Mitchell, who I suppose must have been the calmest one here, tapped his foot on the floor, spoke. "That was interesting. It seems I've gained the magical ability of invisibility."

"What…what even happened?!" I babbled senselessly, touching my lips hesitantly as the bouquet of flowers almost slipped out of my hands so I had to tighten my clutch on it.

"I think you know what just happened. It's just going to take time for you to believe it," he chuckled. "I'm not sure if you're aware of this, but just now, he glowered at me in an antagonizing manner, as I telling me to know my place because he had staked his claim on you."

I rolled my eyes. "I sound like an object now."

"I don't think he meant it like that, but he just wanted to make a statement. He wanted to make sure I knew that you're his. Are you?"

"Haven't I always been?"

A/n: Someone will be getting laid (for real!) in the next chapter! ;D