Theme: Now Where Did That Come From?

Prompt: Ignoring an Injury

Warning: Mild violence and some blood. It's angsty though.

I hastily gave the Galman my hand and waited for him to kiss it already! When he finally did bring his lips to my hand, I snatched it back, gave a likely informal courtesy, and hurried off. A bird had just brought me the news that my younger brother had collapsed. Collapsed! And here I was having a pleasant conversation with a suitor. I gathered my skirts in my hands and sprinted, despite the scolding my subconscious was giving me. My brother's chambers were in the Western Wing, as all of ours were. And I was in the Eastern Wing. Hence, it took me more time than I liked to reach my brother. I turned the knob and the door shot open.

"Edmund?" I panted, breathless.

Lucy didn't really answer, just gave me a solemn look. Peter never even bothered to look up at me; he was staring at our brother, perched beside him on his bed. Lucy grabbed my arm and led me to the sofa opposite to the wide bed. But I couldn't look away from my pale brother. Every ounce of colour had drained from his face. He was ghostly white now, face wrinkled and thin. My vision blurred as tears welled up. I sat beside my sister on the sofa, holding her close with one arm.

"What's wrong with him?" I asked Peter. Peter didn't reply. "Peter!"

My elder brother finally heard me. He blinked, looking at me. "Su." He turned to Ed again. "He's just lost a lot of blood."

I stifled a gasp. "What do you mean?" Peter gently pulled down Edmund's blanket, rolling up his shirt to show me. "Oh. Oh, Peter. Why didn't he tell us?"

Lucy nuzzled into me, sobbing now. I hushed her. Peter tucked our brother under the blanket again, stroking back his hair. "I don't know. We don't how severe the wound is yet. So, Lu hasn't given him the cordial."

"What do you mean you don't know! Did you see what I saw?" I exclaimed. "Heal him this instant, Peter!"

"We've decided to let the healer take a look at him first. He should be here any minute. I knew he'd been injured in the raid but I thought he'd recovered. He hid his pain from us. He knew we couldn't afford to be distracted at such a time."

By such a time, my brother meant the delicate thread of peace breaking between Narnia and Calormen. It was such a petty matter. Edmund had rejected a Tarkheena, breaking her poor heart, in her words. She'd claimed she'd cause a war between our nations. We had, of course, disregarded her. Until the delegation came. They told us we needed to sort the matter with the Tarkheena and her father, Tarkan Firosh. Otherwise, the disputes might even cause a war. Edmund had felt guilty, had even agreed to marry the Tarkheena if Narnia would be at peace. But Peter had held up a hand, adjourning the council. The brothers talked for an entire night. Yells, insults, mocks, sobs, reassurances, all echoed out of the room. Until it all went silent and Lucy found their brothers asleep the next morning, Peter curled up stiffly in a chair, and Edmund sprawled on the bed. That was three days ago. Since then, things had not bettered. I was busy dealing with my suitors, whom I had to tolerate in order to avoid similar problems with other nations. While my siblings attended countless meetings, trying to somehow make peace with the dignitaries. Nothing ever seemed to lessen the tension. It always ended the same way.

My sister sniffed beside me, curling into my side. I could see she was sleepy. I looked back at my brother. The horrible image came back, flashing before my eyes repeatedly. When I had heard Edmund had been injured in the north, I had sobbed for an entire night before they finally came home. It wasn't too bad, they'd said. Just a small gash. But that was not a small gash. That was my brother's skin pierced, organs punctured, so much damage done by a giant's club. And yet we had not noticed his pain all this time.

"How did he manage to—"

"I reckon he changed his bandages every morning, burned the ruined ones, and braced himself through the pain. He's always been good at hiding things," Peter replied, wiping his eyes. "I was there with him. For a whole night. And I had heard the gasps, the grinding of teeth, had seen the curled fists. But I thought he was just angry. Never realised. Oh, Susan, I am such a horrible brother."

I took Lucy's asleep form in my lap, letting her curl up on the sofa. "Either you are joking or you've gone mad, Peter," I told him. He shook his head. I sighed. "You couldn't have known, Peter. As you said, he was always good at hiding things. What happened?"

"I found him in the library. Thought he was sleeping. But he didn't wake when I shook him. Then I saw the blood. Susan, I—I thought he was—" Peter burst into tears. He leaned down, taking Edmund into an embrace, sobbing lightly into his shoulder. "Oh, Eddie, why?"

I was glad Lucy was asleep. She never could bear to see Peter cry. Even I was hardly holding back my own tears. "You said he was in the library. What do you think he was doing?" I asked, my voice thick and cracking with the unshed tears. "Was he going over the Tarkheena's letters again. She was—"

"She's dead."

I blinked. "I'm sorry?"

Peter sat up again. He cleared his throat. "Dead. Murdered. No one knows how. Tarkan Firosh was murdered, too. A day after his daughter's death."

"Oh, Peter. How?"

"I told you. No one knows. They were in the Tisroc's Palace. It's the most secure place in Tashban. And yet…" Peter gave a smile. "They're terrified, Su. The Calormenes. I don't think they'll want to disrupt the peace now."

"So, what was he doing?" I asked him, curious now.

"Law books. He was studying Galman law. At least, that's what I think."

"Peter?" I said when Peter left Edmund's side. "Pete, what is it?" He began pacing. Then he turned.

"I'm going to the library, Su. Give him the cordial. Now. Now!"

I flinched and Lucy was startled awake. She rubbed her eyes. I gave her a look and she understood. She uncorked her vial, walking to Edmund's bedside. She fed him a drop and waited. Nothing happened. Seconds passed but there was no movement in my brother. I furrowed my brows, confused and concerned. Peter rolled up his shirt. The wound was gone. But why hadn't Edmund woken? I walked to my siblings, taking Edmund's hand in mine. Lucy frowned, pulling up his eyelids. She waved her hands in front of him but his irises didn't follow the movement. "Call the healer, Peter. Something is very wrong," Lucy said, turning to Peter.

But Peter was already gone, the door swinging to and fro.

~o~

The healer came and went. He could tell us naught. Only shake his head gravely. He'd said it was a wise decision to give him the cordial, the wound might have gotten infected. But he didn't understand why Edmund hadn't woken yet. He left with a solemn bow, after giving us some herbs to bring his fever down. I dabbed the wet cloth on my brother's forehead again, crying internally at the blank face. So emotionless. So lifeless. Edmund almost always wore a scowl. If not a thorough frown, then a cheeky grin. But now, he almost looked dead. I gave myself a shake and scrubbed his arms, desperate to bring his temperature down.

It had been almost an hour since Peter left, and I could see Lucy was anxious to have him back with us. I gulped, turning to my sister. "Lu?" She glanced up at me. "Will you look after him? I'll go check on Peter. To the library, did he say he was going?" Lucy nodded, smiling. I stood up and she took my place beside Edmund. I handed her the cloth, guiding her to wet it and then dab his forehead with it.

Then I gave her one last smile and went out the door, shutting it behind me. The windows lining the walls seemed bigger today, the light refracting through them, causing me to blink repeatedly in order to adjust to its intensity. It was because of this that I never noticed Lord Janin. As a result, I bumped right into him, making us both fall in a graceless heap on the floor. I was still rubbing my eyes when the Lord kindly reached out and helped me on my feet. Lord Janin was a handsome man, to say the least. Taller than even my elder brother, eyes holding in them a green mist, sun-streaked hair curled and longer than Edmund's, and lips almost shiny. I blushed hard when he gently placed a kiss on my hand. Then I brought my hand to my side, smiling at the Lord. I curtsied, my skirt curled in my hand, lifted an inch off the ground.

"It is a pleasure, my Queen. You seem in a hurry. Is it anything of import? If not, may I ask you to join me for afternoon tea?"

I almost slapped myself, remembering. "I'm afraid I can't accept, Lord Janin. I must go to my brother."

Lord Janin's features tensed for a fraction of a second and then he bowed, stepping out of my way. I turned pink again at his graceful manners. Thanking him, I strolled off. I crossed about five corridors, turning left at every corner, and then ascended up a flight of stairs. I apologised to the mice that I almost stepped on. Hurrying up, I thought about what Peter might be doing. He seemed to be troubled by something. As if he knew he'd missed an important detail. I quickened my pace, ignoring the ache in my legs. The large doors to the library had been left open. I entered.

"Peter?" I said aloud, surprised to not find him there. "Peter!"

Only silence answered me. I frowned, tracing a table's surface with my hand as I silently moved deeper into the library. Cair's Great Library was larger than mine or Edmund's. Lucy and Peter were content with a small number of books on their shelves in their chambers. The Great Library had two floors, curved stairs running up to the second. There was no ceiling to separate the two floors. The upper floor was built on widened edges, bearing more shelves and some tables. Hence, the sheer size of the library was intimidating to me, especially now that I had to search for my brother. My brother who wasn't answering my calls. I cupped my mouth, and shouted again for him, "Peter!"

Nothing.

I sighed, shoulders hunching. I'd have to go around the library after all. He could be studying in the very last section. That would explain why he wasn't replying. My voice wouldn't reach there, especially through so many shelves. I swept past the first section, my eyes wavering from one shelf to the other, searching for my brother. He wasn't there.

The second section came by and went. I still hadn't found him. Just how deep had he submerged? I began running, my eyes affixed on the shelves I was passing, and the gaps between them.

"Peter!"

This time I got an answer. A thump. And something colliding with my foot.

I looked down.

"Peter!"

I immediately knelt down, rolling my brother onto his back. He'd been stabbed. Very close to the heart. Or maybe it had got the heart. I screamed for help as I inefficiently tried to reduce the blood-flow with my hands, feeling nauseated at the sensation of the blood bubbling beneath my fingers. Minutes ticked by and I screamed again, feeling that my brother's life was draining away right in front of me. More painful minutes passed and I waited and waited and waited.

Until I finally heard the doors being flung open. I looked back, bursting into fresh tears.

"Oh, Lucy. Lu, quickly!" I screamed, aware that Lord Janin had brought her here. He was standing yards away now, an anxious look on his face. Lucy poured a drop of the cordial into our brother's mouth. It worked quickly, I felt the blood beneath my fingers stop seeping out, and the wound close up. I stroked Peter's hair, urging him to wake up. He was breathing. But he didn't wake. Lucy concluded it was the blood-loss. He was weak. I glanced around. No one else was there. "Lu?"

"We can't let news get out they're both…" She gulped. "Lord Janin can carry him."

Janin nodded. We both backed away, letting him gather Peter up. I was amazed to see him carry him so easily. Peter was not so light after all. We journeyed to Edmund's chambers in silence, hiding from the passers. When we finally reached Edmund's room, Janin put him down beside Ed. I asked Lucy to ask for another bed to be brought in; discreetly, if possible. I quickly fetched Peter's clothes from his room; it didn't take long since my brother's rooms were on the same floor. I helped him change his ruined tunic, and then sat beside my brothers on a chair. I had forgotten about Lord Janin's presence in the room until he quietly spoke up.

"I'm sorry, Queen Susan. I can't imagine what—"

"It's fine, Lord Janin," I cut him off, smiling grimly. I brushed Peter's hair back, then shifted my gaze to Edmund, blinking back tears at the white face.

"Then, I think I should be leaving."

"Wait," I suddenly said. I furrowed my brows, looking at him suspiciously. "What were you doing there?"

He stuttered. Before I could press further, the door shot open. It was Orieus.

"What is it?" I asked, after letting him consume the scene. He didn't seem surprised to see Peter unconscious beside Ed.

"Queen Lucy's gone."

At first, I could only gape at the words. Then I cleared my throat and asked with as much poise and calm as I could manage, "How, General?"

Orieus replied, "She was in the Northern Gardens, my Queen. I'd seen her myself." The Northern Gardens. I nodded. Then she was going to the Northern Wing. "And then, my Queen, I headed back to the Training Grounds. But an eagle came with the news that he'd seen Queen Lucy leave the Castle through the North Gate. I've already sent Griffins and Eagles to search for her."

"She left willingly?"

"The Eagle said so, Majesty," Orieus said, glancing at Lord Janin who was hovering nervously in one corner. I gave Orieus a nod, urging him to leave. He understood. Bowing, he left, wary eyes still looking at the Lord.

I turned to the anxious Lord, his eyes were apprehensive of what was to come. I wished to throttle him for bringing hurt to my family, but I asked gently, "Where is Lucy?"

The Lord looked up at me with watery eyes. His voice was raspy when he replied, "I tried to save your brother, my Queen. I tried. But it was already too late."

"Answer my question, Lord Janin. What have you done to my sister?" I asked, still calm.

"I saw him. I saw him—"

I blinked; the Lord sank to his knees, a thick blanket of guilt and regret seemed to surround him, clouds of remorse hovered over. It was all reflected in his green, misty eyes. I saw his innocence. And I knelt beside him, taking his trembling hands in mine. "Then tell me, who did this? Who harmed my siblings?"

Lord Janin shook his head. "I had to, Queen Susan. He has my sister." He tangled his fingers with mine, staring into my eyes with more rue. "I am so, so sorry."

"Wh—"

But he had already swivelled me in his arms, holding back my hands in a tight grip. He thrust forward, pinning me against the wall. I felt metallic cuffs bind my hands. He did not release me until I was securely tied to the wardrobe, the other end of the cuff looped around the hinge. I struggled, but when I was held in my place by my cruel bonds; I sank to the ground. Pleadingly, I looked up at the weeping Lord, silently urging him to help me. But he looked away, his nails stabbing deep into his palms. And just then, the door swung open with a soft creak. I looked at the door and resisted the urge to laugh at my own foolishness. The evidence was laid right in front of me, but I still managed to miss it.

"Your father is dying, you told me. His estate, his position in the court of Galma will go to your eldest brother, won't it? Jealousy led you to become this? But why did you harm my siblings? If it's me you want, I will go with you," I told the villain; he wore that same toothy smile, it seemed sinister to me now. "Please. Heal my brothers. And release my sister for I know you have her. I'll come with you, I swear by Aslan."

Lord Janin backed away like an obedient minion and Duke Artus, still smiling, took slow steps towards me. Duke Artus was a short man; I had wondered how light he must be with the thin figure and short height. I had seen him as a humble man, appreciative, who had come to Narnia solely to please his dying father. With his black hair and even blacker skin, his white teeth gave the perfect contrast when he grinned evilly once again. He knelt before me, his brown eyes affixed on me. I inched away.

"You think I want you, Queen Susan. Do you put yourself that high? Do you think you are a prize for men? Something we all race to attain?" he asked, tucking back my hair.

I looked away, at my sleeping brothers. Oh, if only they were awake. What they would do to this poor man…

"It's the Throne of Narnia, I want," he confessed, standing up. I could finally breathe again. And suddenly, it all pieced together.

"You would kill my siblings and marry me. That was your grand plan?"

"It is still my plan, Queen Susan," he said, walking to Janin now. I smiled to see he barely reached his shoulder. He pulled out a silver knife and placed it onto the Lord's palm. He curled his fingers around its hilt. "Kill the High King."

"What? No!" I screamed, thrashing against the cursed cuffs that still would not release me. Lord Janin was trembling brutally, cold tears leaking out of his eyes. He wasn't a murderer. I relaxed a little when he shook his head.

"I can't. Please, don't make me. I won't," he breathed out through his tears, still shaking his head.

"Are you certain you do not wish to, Janin?"

"Please…"

Artus snatched the knife from the Lord's loose hands. It glinted once in the yellow light pouring in through the windows and then disappeared into Janin's shirt, digging into his flesh. I screamed when the blood began soaking his tunic, dripping onto the tiles, droplets spreading in obscene circles. "No!" I screamed again when he dropped to the ground, gasping, hands uselessly clutching to the wound. His green eyes turned a sad black and then the narrow slits shut completely, taking away his light. Artus kicked him once, rolling him onto his back, the blood on the ground seeping up his golden curls. I was sobbing now, head dropped ahead, mind filled with sorrow for the loss of an innocent life. For he was innocent. Artus pulled out a white handkerchief, the flag of Galma had been weaved into it. He wiped his hands with it.

"Such a loss." He grinned a dog's grin. I looked at him in disgust. "Do you know what I did to your sister, Queen Susan?"

I was shaking with sobs, still moving away from the advancing Duke. He knelt before me once again, coldly stroking my chin. "Please don't hurt them."

He laughed. "I reckon she's already sailing for Calormen. There, in Tashban, she will be sold." I shook my head in denial. It couldn't be. Not my little sister. Not dear Lu. "And your brothers…"

He stood up, smiling. He reached Edmund's bedside in three long strides. He pulled up his shirt. And looked surprised. "You healed him. How?"

My head shot up. "You—you did that to him?" I asked, voice quavering with sobs. Pure fury filled me at that thought. For the pain my little brother had endured, for the guilt Peter had held in his heart. How dare he?

"Oh, I did much more," he said, pulling out another knife. No. He would not hurt my brothers. Not again.

"Don't," I warned. "You will regret it, Artus."

"You haven't wondered? Why he hasn't woken yet?"

"Don't!" I screamed when he brought the knife to my brother's stomach, the blade hovering over his scar, where Jadis had stabbed him nine years ago. "Don't you dare! I swear I will kill you if you hurt him again, Artus! Don't!"

"But won't you like to see? What I did to him?" he asked, looking almost vehement about it.

"No. Don't!" I yelled again when the Duke pressed the blade onto my brother's stomach. "He's already dying! Please. Please don't hurt him further. I beg you. I beg you!"

Artus scowled, crossing his arms, looking like a child who'd just been denied candy. "Oh, your love melts my heart. Well then, if it is your wish." I let out a hiccoughing breath when he put back the knife on his sword belt. "I would have sold him, too. Spared him from death. But he discovered my truth, you see, Queen Susan. He's too clever for his own good." He circled the bed until he reached Peter's side. He looked him up and down, shaking his head. "Not so magnificent now, is he? I would have waited to kill him. But then I saw him sprinting to the library. That's where I was going. To burn any evidence. But he'd already found the clues his brother had left him. Did I tell you he's too clever for his own good? He'd marked pages of the Galman Law Volume before the drug could do its work. But High King Peter had found out, too. Now, tell me, is it my fault they're dying or theirs?"

I lurched towards him but the cuffs still refused to let me go. "You will pay," I said with sheer conviction. Then I blinked. "It was you. That's how Ed knew. It was you that killed her."

He turned, beginning to walk towards me again. I smiled, looking across him. "No, no, Queen Susan. I haven't left Cair Paravel since I first arrived. One of my assassins, you mean to say. The Palace of Tashban is not as secure as the Tisroc claims."

"You will pay for your crimes, Artus. Even if we lose this battle, you will pay. One day, you will. Because Aslan sees all."

He squatted before me. "Will he see this?" he asked, pecking a kiss on my cheek. At the filthy and repugnant touch, I winced.

"You animal," I told him. "You will pay; He will not forgive this."

"No? Then what's the wait?" he asked, holding my face still, his fingers digging into my cheeks and temple.

"Don't," I warned him.

But he brought his face closer, sneering at me. He breathed out, his warm, stinking breath brushing past my face, "You are a prize, Queen Susan. And it seems I have finally won you."

"Don't, Artus. You will seriously regret it," I warned again.

He only smirked, caressing my hair.

"I gave you your chance."

And Peter drove Rhindon through his neck; the Duke made choking noises as Peter pulled his sword out of him, letting him limp on the ground. The Duke's bloody hands went lax as death claimed him. Peter kicked his body away from me and crouched in front of me. "Oh, Su. I'm so sorry," he said, kissing my forehead gently. I nodded, swallowing.

"Quick now. Break the cuffs."

Peter stood up. He moved beside me, holding Rhindon above his head. He struck the cuff's metal chain once and it instantly broke, finally freeing me. I rubbed my sore wrists, and looked at my younger brother. "Edmund."

We both rushed to his side. Peter glanced at me. "He put something in him."

"What?"

"Shards of some sort. I don't know. The book doesn't say."

"Wait, how do you—"

"We need get them out. And he needs Lu's cordial."

I turned grim at her mention. "But Lucy is—"

"Oh, thank Aslan I wasn't too late!"

I blinked, turning to see my sister burst in through the doorway, holding the broken knob in her hand. Behind her, were Orieus and two more Centaurs. They didn't enter, as Peter had not commanded them to yet. I continued to blink in wonder as my sister ranted on about the various reasons for lateness and pulled out her dagger from its sheath. Peter and she were conversing in tones that made me seem like an utter fool. A left out. What had I missed? I was pulled out of my thoughts only when I saw Lu draw a long cut on Ed's abdomen.

"Lucy!" I scolded, ready to snatch the dagger from her. She ignored me and went on.

She spitted out a loose strand of hair and said, "Peter, hold back my hair, will you? I can't see clearly." Peter did, watching our little sister as Lucy drew another cut, forming a bloody cross over Edmund's stomach. I grimaced, tears welled up at the gruesome sight. But Peter and Lu were as calm as the ocean without tides. "Susan, the healer's kit. Fetch it. Quickly, please."

I gulped, stepping out of the cloud of grim thoughts. Hurriedly, I strolled to Edmund's wardrobe, rummaging through the hanging tunics like an idiot. Then gaining back some sense, I pulled open the drawer, relieved to find the kit in it. I dashed to my siblings and handed Lucy the kit. She pulled out a pair of tweezers. I looked away as she dug them into our brother's flesh, pulling out the shards one by one. She let them fall to the floor. After eight chinks, she finally pulled out her cordial. And fed Edmund one drop. We all held our breath, and the silence that seemed almost eerie stretched. Until Edmund finally sucked in a sharp, long breath.

I laughed along with my siblings when he blinked at us, giving us the why-are-you-all-hovering-again look. Peter was the first one to embrace him. I held myself back as Edmund scowled but returned the hug. "You figured it out then?"

"Barely," Peter whispered into his shoulder. He pulled away, giving our brother an arcane look that I knew only he could understand, and then invited me and Lucy to join them. We both jumped onto the bed, crushing our brothers into a hug.

"I'm covered in blood," Edmund pointed out, grimacing. But we didn't let him go until Orieus spoke.

"High King, what should we do with the bodies?"

I whipped around, frantic. "No, wait!" I said, glaring at the Centaur who was picking up Janin's body.

"Oh," Lucy gasped.

"Susan—" my brothers tried. But I knelt beside the Lord, blinking away tears.

"Let his body be taken back to Archenland. To his family," I told Orieus. "And find out where Artus was holding his sister." And then silently, I whispered Janin, "Thank you. And Goodbye. May you rest in Aslan's Country, my Lord."

"So, you were awake when he…" I trailed off, horrified by the idea of my brother in so much pain.

"Hardly. I remember just bits and pieces. The laughs. The pain mostly. I managed to circle the word Clomerus before I passed out," Edmund replied, stuffing his mouth with a large bite of Lucy's pie. When I furrowed my brows in confusion, he told me, "It's an ancient way of trapping people in their minds. Until their body slowly shuts down."

"You're not serious," I said, putting down my fork. Lucy nodded, swallowing.

She said, "He's not joking. I went to the library, wanting to see what Peter was after." She glanced at her eldest brother. Peter gave a bow, chewing his share of the pie. "His clues weren't vague as Ed's were."

"What do you mean?" Edmund asked, his eyebrows knitting together over his eyes.

Lucy giggled. "I mean; he'd carved ARTUS on the bench."

Peter swallowed. "I knew someone was there with me. I heard him take out his knife. And I was weaponless."

"So, where was I? Yes, so I knew it was Artus. Then I went to Demiera to ask her what he could have done to Edmund."

"That's why you were in the Northern Wing. But wait, Orieus said you'd left," I said.

"We needed to make him think he'd won. You see, there was a girl. She wanted me to come with her. But I didn't know her. I asked her who she was. And she broke down and confessed everything. She was a Calormene and Artus had promised her freedom from slavery if she would lead me to the kidnappers."

"Oh," I said.

"And I told Orieus everything. Then we came up with the plan."

"The plan?" Lucy shrugged. "Never mind. And Peter, you were—"

"—awake, yes. The whole time. But I couldn't risk it. If you hadn't stopped him from hurting Ed, I probably would have lost it. And he…Oh, Su, I'm so sorry. I could have saved him. I could have...But I was still weak. I had to wait. Oh, Aslan, I should have saved him!"

I gave his arm a comforting stroke. "It is forgiven, Peter. By me and by Aslan. You couldn't have saved him, had you tried. You were too far. And weak, as you said."

"And I let you go through that," Peter said, looking at me with guilty eyes.

Edmund's head snapped up. "What did he do to you?" he asked me, his voice threatening.

"It's alright, Ed. He's dead," I told him, pressing my hand on his.

"Peter killed him too quickly," he said, glaring at our elder brother. Lucy snickered.

"I wasn't thinking about torturing him. I was thinking about saving you and Susan," Peter said defensively, drinking his coffee now.

With a wave of my hands, I dismissed the matter. "Wait, now, from the beginning. How did Edmund know?"

"I read her letters again, the Tarkheena's. She'd mentioned a Galman Lord who'd come to visit the Palace. I'd guessed it then. But I had to confirm it. The Galman records showed he'd been exiled years ago when he tried to force their Queen into marrying him by kidnapping her brother. Simply put, he was a psychopath," Edmund said. "And then I heard the footsteps. I'd already marked the pages that I needed to show you. I tried to fight but he drugged me. And then—"

"Yes, yes, you've told us. No need to repeat that part please," I said. "Have they found Janin's sister yet?" I asked Peter who had just finished his coffee and was now wiping his mouth with his handkerchief.

Peter looked up at me. "Yes, sister. She attended her brother's funeral. And she sends you her thanks." He stood up, pushing back the wooden chair. The gold railing of the Eastern Balcony gleamed lightly when Peter rested his hands on it and leaned ahead, staring at the horizon. "All the pain, all the blood and scars. They're all worth it, aren't they?" He turned, smiling at Edmund who was scowling.

"I've three scars on my stomach. Three! I've been marred!"

"But it's worth it?"

Lucy and I looked at him. He sighed. Then brightened up, smiling. "It is."

Fin

Author's note: So, combined the story. And I say it again, the prompt fooled you, not me!

With love,

~Pacifia