The next morning a summons to breakfast with the royals woke me. The entire way down to breakfast my mind ticked over: worrying about Orran, thinking about how to behave with Edmund in front of the others, remembering my Uncle's outrage. Remembering Edmund's touch.

Outside the breakfast room door I took a breath and squared my shoulders, preparing to face them head on. But when I stepped inside, only Edmund was there, buttering a roll. Such an ordinary action, but it filled me with tenderness.

When he saw me there, his face lit up, and I could scarcely believe such a welcome was for me. But he dropped the roll onto a plate and came to take both of my hands, lacing our fingers together. He was just leaning in to kiss me when we heard Peter outside the door. He pulled a face, and murmured in my ear. 'After breakfast, meet me in the gardens. At the bench.' He returned to his roll and I fumbled for a plate just as Peter came into the room.

'Morning, Peridan,' he said, giving me a nod. 'Ed, I'm shocked to see you awake so early.'

Edmund shrugged as he took a bite of food. 'What can I say—the Island air must be getting to me.' He flashed me a wink.

Peter shook his head at this, then turned to me as he collected his breakfast. 'I am glad to see you, Peridan. I didn't have the chance to properly congratulate you on your win the other day.'

I bowed my thanks to this, while Edmund said, 'Yes, once he finally got into it he was a passable swordsman.' Peter turned to his brother, and I used the opportunity to pull a face at Edmund.

'You shouldn't mock our champion so,' Peter admonished.

'Don't worry. He can take it. Rehan dealt enough hard knocks and he still managed to win the bout,' Edmund said.

'I see you are in one of your merry moods this morning,' Peter observed drily. He turned to me. 'You must forgive my brother; he can be quite incorrigible sometimes.'

'There is nothing to forgive,' I replied smoothly. 'I am growing used to King Edmund's many moods.' Edmund kept his focus on his breakfast but he lifted his brows and smirked.

Peter hesitated for a moment, and looked like he was trying to read the subtext. A wave of fear swept over me, and I wondered how I could have been so foolhardy and brazen. The next moment, though, Peter swept this away and said, 'At any rate, about your fighting. I thought you showed some promise in the tournament back in Narnia, but here you have come into your own. But I wondered if you wouldn't mind a few pointers gleaned from my observations.'

'Your Majesty's advice is always welcome,' I said, trying not to engage with Edmund too much in front of his brother. I cast ahead to after breakfast, when we could steal a moment alone.

'I have noticed you overthink things,' Peter observed. 'Your instincts are strong; you should trust them more. You don't always need to strategise and calculate. Let yourself be free. You seemed to do this much better in the second half of the bout and made short work of Rehan then.'

I nodded studiously as I mulled this over.

'At any rate,' Peter continued, 'You do us proud as Kings' Champion.' He clapped my shoulder. 'Keep it up—I don't think we've seen half of what you can do.' I mulled over this praise, wondering how sincere it would be if I really let myself be free. I thought of Orran, and the changed man he was.

Edmund spent most of the meal flirting with me through teasing and secret winks. Once as he rose to get more food, he passed behind me and his fingers brushed over my back. I caught myself from showing my reaction and had to check to make sure none of the others had noticed. At the same time, my body almost vibrated with longing to touch him, to kiss him.

I ran down to the bench in the garden where we had shared our first kiss. Edmund was already there, and again his face lit up when he saw me.

'So,' he began with a sardonic smile, 'Here is the famous swordsman who so impressed the High King.'

I crossed to him and cut him off with a deep kiss. He kissed me back at once, and wrapped his arms around me. I sighed with the relief of being in his arms again. We folded ourselves into each other.

'You idiot,' Edmund murmured. 'You should have come to my room last night.'

I pressed closer to him. He rubbed my scalp, and being both soothed and aroused at the same time was so strange it made me agitated.

He kissed my temple. 'Well done on impressing Peter and all,' he said, 'But you should know that sort of thing won't win him over when it comes to the person who claims his brother's heart. He'll be much more exacting.'

He was teasing, but my blood went cold. I lifted my head and stared at him, trying to read the answer to the question before I asked it. 'Does he know?'

Edmund shrugged as if this were a matter of no import. 'No idea. I didn't tell him, if that's what you're asking.'

I gripped his arm so hard that his skin turned white under my fingertips. 'You mustn't tell him,' I said. I couldn't breathe.

Edmund frowned. 'Why?' He demanded. 'He's my brother. I don't keep secrets.

My head started to spin. I broke away from him and clasped my hands to my forehead, looking down at the ground to steady myself. All I could think was He doesn't know. He has no idea where this is leading him. What am I doing to him?

'You can't!' I cried, looking up. 'It's too dangerous.'

'Dangerous, faugh!' He said. 'Anyone would think you're scared.'

'I am scared,' I replied. 'I'm terrified.'

'You? Terrified? Ridiculous.'

I was going to have to make him understand. I would have to do this and then…I knew where these revelations were leading, and I couldn't bear it. 'It's not ridiculous at all,' I said in a very quiet voice. I twisted my arm round to remind myself of the scars again.

'What—because of Taran? He's an idiot,' Edmund scoffed.

I jumped to my feet. 'Yes, because of Taran. Because of everyone. This is why they hate me, Edmund. Because I am a man who wants men. This is why I didn't compete the first time you were here, why they shun me. Behind your back Gormal calls me a half man, every other name he can think of. Taran says I am the ruin of Narnia. Simar was supposed to be an ally but I come to find he's sold out Orran rather than risk the hate and the censure.' The words poured out of me, my voice growing more frantic as I spoke. I paced faster and faster.

'This is all—' Edmund began.

But I cut him off, wheeling round to face him. 'You want to know how I got the scars on my back? When my uncle caught me with Simar he dragged me home and he whipped me.'

'Those are lashes?' Edmund murmured. 'They're all over your back. They cover every inch.'

'He wanted to be good and sure he beat it out of me.' I scoffed. 'It didn't work.'

He laid his hand on my back. I flinched.

I brushed at my eyes with my wrist. 'I can't do this to you. I can't risk your family when they mean so much to you. I don't want to ruin you.'

He cupped my cheek, forcing me to look at him. 'You can't ruin me. I have already ruined myself—and found redemption.'

I opened my mouth to respond, but the horn sounded. I winced.

'I have to go,' I mumbled.

'I know,' Edmund said. He kissed me. 'I have to go and watch you fight. Try not to be too dashing out there or I won't be able to contain myself.' I couldn't help but laugh, just a bit. I wanted to be back on Felimath where it was all laughter. He went to the garden gate, but before he lifted the latch he turned back. 'Anyway, you are far too good to ruin anyone,' he said, and then he slipped through.

I watched him go. I hoped he would reappear, but he didn't. 'I'm so in love with you,' I whispered into the wind. 'I'm so madly, hopelessly in love with you.'

I went to armour myself to prepare for my bout. I didn't know how I would find the energy and focus to fight, and Peter's expectations weighed on me. After everything had been strapped and fitted and tightened, I went down to the fighters' entrance, still in a fog of thought. I peered out and saw Edmund in the royal box, laughing with his brother whose respect he so craved.

Simar called me out of my thoughts. 'Look at you, so bold in the scarlet. I tell you, Peridan, I—'

He never finished his thought because I seized him by the tunic and pinned him against the wall. 'Don't you dare talk to me like we're friends.'

'Peridan!' Simar gagged. 'What—'

'I know what you did to Orran!' I spat. 'You disgust me.'

His face fell, and he struggled to get away. 'You don't understand,' he hissed. 'You weren't there. They were going to expose me. My wife would have divorced me! And think then of the shame I would have had to face,' he said in a rush.

'So you sold him out, let him become a prisoner,' I snarled. 'You have no honour.'

'Fine speech from the mighty knight,' Simar returned, his lip curling. 'But the only way you've survived is by lying to everyone—including the kings and queens.'

I curled my fist and drew it back. At that moment, Gormal sauntered by. 'Tut, tut,' he said with a cruel smile. 'A lover's quarrel! Thought you two wouldn't have turned against each other—you're the only people who can stomach each other.'

They announced my bout then. I pushed Simar into the wall and let him go. He slumped to the ground. I grabbed my swords and shouldered Gormal out of my way. Although he was still a good deal bigger than me, he stumbled out of surprise. He shouted after me, but I ignored him and strode toward my opponent.

He was another noble Island man, a handful of years older than me. We were known to each other, of course, but had barely spoken. I wasn't in the mood for pleasantries. As soon as the match started I went for him. I didn't care about theatrics and suspense. I wanted this over, and I fought like a warrior instead of a showman. He reeled backward, surprised by my ferocity, and before five minutes had passed I had him flat on his back. I sheathed my swords, helped him up, and stalked away.

I didn't stay to see the rest of the bouts that day. I went to the baths, and then changed into softer clothes and sat in my rooms drawing. When my hand cramped and my brain fogged up, I threw down my pencil and went for a walk in the castle. I ended up in the upstairs corridor with the murals of the Song of King Gale. I stood with my arms folded protectively across myself, examining the painting of Peridan fighting the dragon.

I had sat on the bench as an eleven year old boy. I had slipped away from the New Year's revelry to sit alone with my sadness. Everyone loved to celebrate the new year. There were well wishes and words of hope. People raised their glasses and said 'May we see the shores of Narnia before the year is out.' At the new year, everyone believed in salvation.

But I couldn't, because my father was not there to make any toasts or talk about his hopes. He was gone. He would never see the shores of Narnia. For the first time since his death, I wept without restraint.

Orran found me, because I could always count on him to find me. He put an arm around my shoulders and let me cry.

'I don't know what I'm supposed to do,' I said, my voice hoarse. 'Father wanted me to be good, and noble, but I don't know how. I don't even think I'll have the chance.'

'You'd be surprised,' said Orran, 'Sometimes the way before us is clearer than we imagine. You just have to keep going forward until you find it.'

But the way wasn't clear. As I stood before the mural that afternoon, I sifted through everything to try and find the clarity. I feared the right thing would be to step back from Edmund, step away rather than draw him in. But I couldn't bear the thought.

Then Edmund's voice was in my ear, murmuring 'For thy sword hath been my strength and thy shield hath shielded me.'

I turned to him, and I saw the warmth and desire on his face. He kissed me, and I deepened it, turning into him once more, pressing our hips and our bodies together.

He slipped his hand down to stroke me and I moaned in the back of my throat. I wanted to sink into this. But the memory of being caught in this very palace rippled through me. I couldn't let that happen to Edmund. I forced myself to pull away.

Edmund tilted his head as though he was trying to read me. After a moment he commented, 'Impressive fighting today. I don't often see you so fierce.'

I thought of Simar. 'I was angry.'

His brows shot up, as though he were surprised that I could be angry. 'Why?'

I sighed, the fight quickly seeping out of me. 'I've told you about Orran. He raised me after my father died. More than my uncle. He helped me understand…' I raised my eyes to his face. I didn't know whether I wanted to thank Orran or curse him for what he taught me.

'What happened to Orran?' He prompted.

'He is a man like…like us. The guard raided an inn where men meet, and found him talking to Simar. When they questioned Simar, he said Orran had forced himself on him. They've imprisoned him in his own house, which they consider a mercy compared to going to prison. The small grace of being noble born.'

'Simar betrayed him?'

I nodded.

He started to pace with his hands clasped behind him, a measured step that half belonged to Edmund the man, half spoke of Edmund the Just. 'I must see Orran,' he said at last. 'I need to find out more about this.'

I exhaled, and some of the tension seeped out of my shoulders. 'I wanted to ask you, but I didn't want to be—'

'Do not start about propriety, my good Lord,' he said, the little smirk playing on his lips. 'If you've sucked my cock, those days are long behind us. Rather, I want you to be very improper.'

I laughed. When the laugh subsided, I bit my lip. I stepped forward to him and he met me halfway, his dark eyes sparking the same way they had when he took my drawing on the Splendour Hyaline. When he saw me across the ballroom. All those memories which were half miserable at the time suddenly seemed beautiful. They were leading me here.

I stopped caring if we were discovered. Those ghosts were not real. He leant me against a pillar and this time my hands fumbled over his trousers as his fingers pulled at the lacings of mine and there was only him: our mouths, our hands, our heat, our desire.

When we had finished, we straightened our clothes and smiled as we kissed. In that heady moment, I hardly knew where I ended and he began, and I wanted to stay twined like that. He gripped the back of my neck and whispered. 'I want to be with you. No fear. No shame. Just you and I.'

'You aren't afraid,' I said. I didn't know if this was sad or beautiful.

'I'm not,' he said, and his clarity and certainty reminded me of Lucy.

'Why not? After all I've told you…'

He shrugged. He leaned forward to kiss me once more, and then, infuriatingly, I turned to go. I sagged against the pillar and looked at the murals all around me. I couldn't even imagine living with such freedom. I wondered if Edmund should be so free. I tried to concentrate on these questions, but instead, standing in the hall of my ancestor, I cooked up a fantasy where I called him my beloved to all the world and we stood together in the sunlight.