"Your majesty!" a servant called, rushing through the door. Corin, engrossed in a game of dice with his identical twin brother Cor, paid no heed to the servant. Cor, who was still relatively new to his role as crown prince of Archenland and not yet used to the rushing servants, startled, his head jerking up.
"Your majesty," the servant said, a frantic note in his voice. "Urgent news from Narnia!"
This caught Corin's attention. He felt a special bond to Narnia, especially to its younger king and queen, Edmund and Lucy, who he had fought beside a year earlier when Rabadash and his Calormene soldiers had attacked Anvard.
King Lune broke the letter's seal, deep red and pressed with the royal Narnian seal with the head of a lion, and skimmed its words. Corin saw the color drain from his father's face. His eyes grow wide with worry. Something had happened. Corin stood, surreptitiously motioning for his brother to follow his lead. The king looked up, meeting the eyes of each of his sons before turning to the servant.
"Alert the council. I want to meet with them immediately in chambers," he barked.
"Father?" Corin asked after the servant rushed off.
"What's happening?" Cor asked.
"It's Narnia," the king said gravely. "The kings and queens have disappeared."
"Edward, stop!" Lillian cried, chasing after her older brother. "I'll tell Mummy you broke her vase!"
Edward St. James stopped, turning on his six year old sister with a glare that should have scared her off. Irritatingly it only made her goad him more.
"You're supposed to take me to the fair!" she exclaimed. She crossed her arms over her chest, her face as stern as their mother's.
"I'm not taking you and if you keep being a pest I'll tell Dad you spilled ink on his journal," Edward replied. A look of horror passed over his sister's face.
"It seems to me," a small voice said from behind them. "That you both have done something wrong that both your parents should know of."
The siblings turned to see their cousin Olyria sitting in the grass, a large book perched on her lap. At only four she was smarter than all the St. James and Pevensie children.
"You wouldn't tell on us," Lillian said sweetly, giving her little cousin a warm smile. Olyria's deep eyes stared at her cousin until Lillian began to squirm nervously.
"I suppose I won't this time," she said, giving her cousins a wide grin. "But I would like to be taken to the fair, if you'd both be so kind."
"Was I ever that manipulative?" Lucy asked her older brother Edmund. They were sitting on a small tucked away bench, just out of sight of the kids but close enough to hear their entire conversation.
Edmund snorted. "Of course you were. Your daughter is you made over."
Lucy threw her head back and laughed. "Oh dear, I feel like I should apologize to you all now!"
In Aslan's Country time moved differently. The Pevensie siblings and their spouses could have been there for minutes or years or centuries. At first Edmund had tried to keep up with time, but after a period declared it pointless. Their array of children, however, had grown, despite the adults never changing. It was as normal as it was odd and if no one thought too hard it all seemed as natural as life itself had been.
Though they had been in Aslan's Country for some time the excitement over their new lives never seemed to expire. None of them could decide what they loved best: the endless celebration or the vastness of their world or the exquisiteness of being together for eternity. There was always someone new to meet, thousands of years worth of Narnians together, numerous kings and queens and lords and ladies to meet and greet. Though many were more ancient rulers than the High King and his siblings, the four were held in reverence at Cair Paravel.
There had been talk among the four siblings of exploring more of the lands in the Woods Between the Worlds, but after the birth of Peter's daughter, Aria, Susan declared their exploring days to be over.
"We all have families now," she had said. "It's time to put away our adventuring and begin our next chapter."
Her declaration was met with minimal grumbling.
"I suppose we should take them all to the fair," Edmund said, rolling his eyes upwards. He had been looking forward to a peaceful afternoon in the gardens, napping under his favorite apple tree. Or finding his wife and napping with her under his favorite apple tree, something they never seemed to do anymore.
"It's not that bad," Lucy said cheerfully. "We'll go, we'll have fun, we'll see the monkeys-"
"Monkeys?" Edmund interrupted, scrunching his nose.
"There's always monkeys at the fair," Lucy said. Edmund rolled his eyes, earning an elbow jab from his sister. "Come on, I'll buy you a little cake."
Aravis stood in front of a mirror, leaning her head to one side then the other as she scrutinized her new dress. It was white silk splashed with pale blue flowers. The fabric was smoother than water, flowing over her body in rivulets and curves. The split skirt revealed a pair of deep blue pants cinched at the ankles. Before coming to Aslan's Country, during her time in the Shadowlands, she had adopted the fashion of her new home of Archenland, but despised the dresses that allowed her no freedom to move as her Calormene clothing had. She had worked with dressmakers to design a new style combining her favorite parts of both cultures' clothing. Elaborately styled dresses with long slits and splits in the skirts to allow her pants-covered legs the freedom to run and ride and sit as she had always done.
"New dress?" She caught the smile of her husband in the mirror's reflection. She nodded, leaning her head to the other side. Cor came up behind her and pushed her dark hair away from her neck. He placed a small kiss on her bare shoulder, sending a tiny shudder through her body. No matter the length of time they had been married he never ceased to make her toes curl.
"It does you no justice," he said softly.
"That's a shame," she said, turning to wrap her arms around his midsection. "It cost you quite a fortune."
"May I remind you for the hundredth time that there is no currency here."
"May I remind you that-" Aravis was cut off by Cor's kiss. When they broke apart she raised a brow at him.
"No more fighting today," he said softly.
"But that's our thing," she said, running a finger across his chest. He caught her hand, placing a small kiss on her palm.
"My brother comes today," Cor said.
Aravis's eyes widened in surprise. She had lost track of how many days or weeks or months or years it had been since they had last seen her husband's twin Corin. Ever since... her... Corin had been less of himself, even here in Aslan's Country. He had become withdrawn, reclusive, no longer the jovial, life-of-the-party king he had been. Even their friendship had changed, Corin confiding less and less in Aravis. He spent most of his time deeper in his cups than he ever had and disappeared for days or weeks at a time, coming home bruised and battered from his boxing.
Now in Aslan's Country, Corin drank and boxed less, but he remained withdrawn from his family, choosing to stay in a small cabin deep in the woods. He appeared every so often, but would return to the woods without a word of warning.
"Why?" Aravis asked.
Cor gave her a shrug. He began unbuttoning his vest, pulling it off before yanking his shirt over his head. Without needing to ask, Aravis dug a clean shirt from his dresser, handing it to him. Their relationship, beginning eons ago in Calormene, was so fine tuned that they interacted as if in a dance. Perfectly in sync in every aspect of their lives.
"The messenger didn't say. Corin's note simply said he was coming home today and asked for the southern wing to be aired out."
"The southern wing? That's where..." She trailed off, frowning. Cor nodded sharply.
"I think he's found her."
"Uncle?" a girl called out, coming into the large throne room of Cair Paravel.
Lord Peridan stood in front of the four thrones, empty, their kings and queens gone. Vanished. Though the news was weeks old, the sting of their absence was still fresh. He felt completely out of sorts. The Council had been meeting for days, breaking only for meals and the occasional night's sleep. Peridan had caught a glance of himself in a hallway mirror earlier; dark purple circled his eyes, while the whites of his eyes were shot with red.
They wanted him to be king.
"Uncle?" the girl said again, this time closer. Peridan turned and saw his niece standing behind him, still dressed in her riding clothes. She was dusty, her normally sleek hair wild under her hat. He supposed she had ridden straight from his sister's home in the Western March. "Is it true?"
Peridan nodded. "They're gone."