The next night was another ball. I was perfectly appointed, from the waves in my hair to the folds of my cape to the geometrical laces on my sandals. Not that the perfection would count for anything to the Islanders. As I waited for Aurie and Uncle at the palace gates I wondered what the fallout would be from my interview with Barran. So far, all seemed quiet, but there was still time for things to unfold.

The instant Uncle saw me he stalked towards me, Aurie trotting in his wake. 'You prodigious fool,' he hissed. 'Turning down a marriage arrangement with the governor's family!' He made a swift movement, drawing back his arm. I caught this and gave him a sharp look. He must have remembered my reflexes, for he let his arm fall and decided to give me a tongue lashing instead.

'Do you forget us entirely? Languishing here, while you go gallivanting in Narnia. This alliance between our houses could have saved us, and you throw the chance away. Not to mention the fact that you need to start considering heirs to the house of Lionshaim or all your heroics will be for nothing when the line dies out.'

I drew in a breath and turned away, working my jaw.

'You have nothing to say, do you? Because you are aware of your own idiocy,' Uncle hissed stepping closer.

I wheeled round. 'No, Uncle. I am biting my tongue because we are about to go before the Emperor and his consorts, and the noble families are all around us. But I will say this: the Kings and Queens have given me far more in my short time knowing them then you have done for me in all my life.' I turned from him and offered Aurie my arm. 'Come on, Aurie. Let's go make a grand entrance.' She took my arm and I left Uncle behind.

'Ungrateful child!' Uncle gasped. He caught up to us and his fingers closed round my arm like pincers. 'You forget too soon all that I have done for you.'

'Trust me,' I said out of the corner of my mouth, 'I forget nothing.'

We made our way to the front of the queue without waiting for Galumnus to arrange us in our place. The nobles stepped aside for us.

As the ball began, I stood on the fringes, skirting everyone I knew and watching Edmund from afar. He bowed to Maiara after a dance, and his face showed that bland pleasantness which said he wasn't particularly bothered. I knew the spark in Edmund's eye when he was intrigued. Maiara drifted away—she was apparently playing her hand delicately if at all—and Edmund caught sight of me. The spark lit up his face as our eyes met. The words were there, rumbling in my chest. All my truth and all my desire. I wanted to lay it out before him and let him sift and pick through it like so much treasure. I love you; I'm so in love with you. Let us know each other.

I took a step towards him as though pulled forward. He invited me with a smile. Thrills of desire ran down my arms and legs, pooled in my stomach. I smiled at him in return. I kept walking.

Someone seized my arm, holding me back. I gasped with frustration and turned to find Taran there.

'I must speak with you,' he said.

'I am busy now,' I said, shaking him off.

'It is urgent,' Taran insisted.

I sighed out the breath I had been holding, and my shoulders slumped. 'What, then?' I said.

Taran beckoned me towards a balcony, but I frowned, hesitating.

'I do this out of respect for you,' he said, arching his brows. 'I did not think you would want everyone to hear.'

I could see he was bent on saying whatever it was, and judged that it probably was better to go. I followed him outside and waited with folded arms while he secured the door behind us.

'We have known each other a long time, Peridan,' Taran began.

'Yes, and no. You know nothing of the past five years of my life,' I said, my arms still folded.

'Yes.' Taran's voice was grave, and I restrained an eye roll. 'You left us because you suffered much cruelty.' He shook his head. 'It is a shame.'

I narrowed my eyes at him. 'What is it you want to say, Taran?'

'Simply this—I worry for your soul.'

'Well don't. My soul is just fine,' I snapped back.

He laid his hand on my arm. 'It isn't, though. You know it isn't. You persist in this unnatural desire for men. I hoped you might change in Narnia, but I see that isn't the case.'

I scoffed and threw his hand off even as my chest seized up in panic. 'Leave me be, Taran. I don't have time for one of your sermons.'

'I can't,' Taran said, 'Firstly because you are my fellow man, but also because of your influence, the blackness of your soul could taint all of Narnia. We are in a new age, a Golden Age, of glory and righteousness, ushered in by Aslan himself. If you lead these good Kings and Queens to believe your behaviour is permissible or justifiable, that spells doom for us all. We might as well have the White Witch back again.'

'You flatter me, giving me as much sway as the Witch who froze Narnia for a hundred years,' I said. I barely moved my lips as I spoke.

'This is what's at stake!' Taran cried. 'Can't you see it? Peridan, I beg of you—leave this behind. Be renewed, be better. I can help you.'

'I don't want your help,' I growled, and pushed past him and wrenched open the door.

'Then I will do what I must, for the sake of Narnia,' he said gravely.

I slammed the door shut behind me.

I searched for Edmund, but he was dancing with another girl, his mask back up. The spell was broken. I shook my head. I grabbed a goblet of wine and went outside. I downed half of it in one go, letting the wine warm me through. 'You are the stupidest fool who ever existed,' I muttered to myself. Then I drained the remainder and threw the goblet aside. I buried my face in my hands.

'You're not letting them get to you, are you?'

Simar stood before before me, holding two goblets of wine.

'It's a bit hard not to,' I admitted, taking the one he stretched out to me. I lifted it to him and drank deeply. 'How do you do it?' I asked, wiping the back of my hand over my mouth.

He shrugged. 'One of my talents I suppose. They say the same thing a lot, so I stopped listening.'

'If only I could learn that trick,' I said ruefully.

'It's not that hard, really,' he said. 'I tend to think about what I want instead. What would make me happy.'

I squeezed my eyes shut and pushed the heel of my hand against my eye socket. 'Why did you say that about King Edmund?'

'That he might be like us? Because it could well be true,' Simar said.

'No. It's stupid. And treasonous.'

'Is it though? Because have you ever seen him enjoy the attentions of a woman?'

'It's not like that—he doesn't think about that sort of thing.' My breath was coming ragged.

'Oh, Peridan,' Simar said, steeping closer. 'And you do. I can see it.' He raised a hand to touch my cheek, but I knocked it away.

'What have you done all these years? Have you really lived all alone? No one to kiss you, or touch you.' He punctuated these statements by pressing his lips to my jaw.

I squeezed my eyes shut and shook my head. 'Don't,' I whispered, but I didn't know what I was telling him not to do.

He stepped away. 'Why not? What are you saving yourself for—your wife? Keeping pure for a man who will never see you?'

'You said—you said he might be like us,' I countered.

'And you refuse to believe it. I'll go inside if you want me to. If you really want me to.'

I stared at him. My chest constricted. Then I darted forward and gripped him by the back of the neck to pull him into a kiss. I pulled away and said the words out loud: 'I'm so lonely.'

He kissed me back and for a moment I was a fourteen year old again, giddy on wine and the thrill of discovering desire, finding acceptance. I just wanted to be touched, held, caressed. The last time someone had embraced me was when Edmund gave me the ceremonial embrace at my accolade. And that was only because tradition demanded it. 'I know,' Simar crooned in my ear. 'It is so lonely.'

I nodded fervently. I grabbed his tunic and pulled him to me. We pressed our mouths together and stroked each other's bodies with heavy fingers. The wine blurred everything except my desire. I spent so much time in my head I never let my body feel anything.

Simar's hand drifted lower, between my legs. I gave a shuddering breath as I drew away.

'You—you should probably go inside,' I faltered. 'If they catch us...again...'

'Mm,' he murmured. He drew back. I closed my eyes. I didn't know if I was disappointed or relieved. 'Perhaps you're right. But just remember this: there is someone who knows all of you, even the darkest corners, and wants you just the same. Remember that when you are letting yourself waste away with useless love.'

He turned then and went inside. I covered my face once more, resuming the same attitude I had struck before he came out. Only now everything was spinning so fast I felt sick. A perverse part of me wanted Edmund to have seen, to know. Perhaps to be sparked with the same desire. But then Taran's sanctimonious words echoed in my head. I tried to push them out, but not many thoughts are louder than someone saying I was the ruin of Narnia.

'I need to stop loving him' I whispered to myself. I thought of how easy life could be if I didn't love Edmund. I could have a fling with Simar, go back to Narnia, find someone there, perhaps. I sank onto the ground and hugged my knees as I stared off. All this was useless though. I wanted to love Edmund. I would love Edmund, in spite of the wildness and foolishness. In spite of the ruin.