'I think we should go to Narrowhaven,' I announced.

I had chosen the moment carefully. We were sitting at dinner, and it was after the first course so that Uncle would not be too hungry when I put a proposition to him—he was even less receptive to my ideas when he was feeling peckish. I also made sure it was before the second course was set in front of us—he did not like to talk 'business' while eating.

Uncle Emdir made that little wheezing sigh through his nose. If I had not feared him so much the sound would have made me laugh. It was that of a tired sounding toy, high and complaining but losing air. 'What possesses your mind to think of Narrowhaven?' He did not look at me; rather he busied himself pouring a goblet of wine.

'The Kings and Queens, of course!' Aurie burst out. I put up my hand to silence her and gave her a look. We had gone through this before dinner, that I would ask and she should stay silent. We were both keen to go, but at nine Aurie was still too impetuous, and impetuosity only made Uncle start quoting Calormene poetry to us.

'Hm,' said Uncle Emdir. 'I have no interest in seeing the Barbarian Kings and Queens. I intend to never set foot in Narnia. I have been successful these forty-seven years.'

'He who they call the High King is our Emperor here in the Islands. He is worthy of our honour,' I answered.

'Hm.'

'Everyone is going,' I pressed. 'There will be a welcome ceremony, and the Governor will host a ball. We are one of the first families of Narnia. It is our duty to be there.'

I looked at him down the length of the polished table. He still refused to look me in the face; this was true most of the time. Aurie, who was seated between us along the side of the table, shuttled her eyes between us. She opened her mouth to exhort him, but I gave her a shake of the head.

'We must see this as an opportunity,' I said. 'The Islands have been ignored by Narnia these past hundred years. With a new age beginning, there are also new opportunities. Opportunities for trade and for favour. If we fail to greet the emperor and his consorts, we already fall behind.'

At last, Uncle looked up, his eyes narrowed as he appraised me. I swallowed, but I forced myself to hold his gaze. The servants put the food before us, and that was an opportune moment, for Uncle would not want to deliberate while eating.

'Fine,' he said. 'We shall go.' Aurie gasped with excitement, but I contained mine, and turned my attention to the dinner just set before me so that he might not see he granted something that made me happy.

After dinner, Aurie came bursting into my room. 'We get to go!' She cried, the flounces of her nightdress bouncing along with her. 'I can't wait! Uncle has never let me go to Narrowhaven in the first place, and I've been stuck on boring old Avra my whole life. You're so lucky that you've been. What's it like?'

I searched for a way to describe Narrowhaven. 'I don't know. It's Narrowhaven. There's the school and the governor's palace and the town with the white buildings and the blue roofs. It's pretty.'

'Think of all the people though, and the market. I bet you can buy whatever sweets you want! I can't wait until I get to go to school there.' She flopped into my window seat.

'You should have let me handle Uncle,' I told her.

She rolled her eyes. 'You always say he has a soft spot for me.'

'So he does. But he'll know if you're using that against him, and instead of a soft spot, you'll find him hardened to you,' I warned. 'He's much cleverer than us when it comes to that sort of thing.'

'Is that what happened? Is that why he hates you so much these days?' She asked. Her eyes were searching.

I looked away and shrugged.

'Why won't you tell me?' She demanded. 'I'm not stupid. I know he's angry with you.'

I looked out over our garden of lemon trees. I could see the shapes of the fruit glowing bright in the dusk. Beyond that I could hear the gentle tinkling of the fountain in the gardens. I drew a breath. 'There are some things you're better off not knowing,' I told her.

Aurie gave half a sigh, half a groan. 'You talk like a grown up, but you're only fourteen,' she complained, but she didn't press me any further. 'You are looking forward to seeing the Kings and Queens though, aren't you?'

Here I turned to smile at her. 'Very much.'

'What do you think they're like?'

I tucked myself into the window seat with her and wrapped my arms round my knees. 'I hardly know. They must be very powerful warriors and great people to break such an enchantment, don't you think?' I gave her a conspiratorial smile.

'Then they must be very handsome and very beautiful,' she added.

I laughed. 'Is that all it takes to be great?' She shrugged. 'I was led to believe there's something more to it.'

She giggled. 'Perhaps. I wouldn't know—because I've never seen anything but stupid Avra. Nothing ever happens here.'

'Now that is true,' I agreed. I rested my cheek on my knees. 'Everything feels different now in the Islands now that there's been no more sickness, and Narnia is becoming itself again. I should like to be a part of it. I feel that's what father would have wanted.'

The next day I rode over to Orran's estate, taking Aurie with me. Although Uncle liked her, I thought it best for her to get out from under his thumb when she could. Else she might be like him.

Orran had seen us coming, and he was waiting on the steps to greet us with his two younger children. Kyran was a year Aurie's senior and Daia a year her junior, and the long closeness of our houses made them lifelong friends. Aurie jumped down from her horse and ran off with them at once. I greeted Orran, clasping his forearm.

'Every time I see you, I think you've grown more,' Orran said, gripping the back of my neck. I remembered my father using the same affectionate gesture. 'Soon you will be a full fledged man.' I blushed at this and ducked away.

'What brings your lordship here today, then?' Orran asked as we climbed the steps together.

'Good news,' I replied. 'I managed to get Uncle to agree that we should go to Narrowhaven to see the Kings and Queens.'

'That is good news!' He exclaimed. 'You ought to be there. You're Lord of Lionshaim.'

Orran led me into his antechamber where he had laid out fruits and cheeses and pastries and chutneys, a casual tea in the Island style. Although of course there was no tea, but sherbert and coffee. Aurie was jealous that I got coffee, but of course I only drank coffee and wine at Orran's house and official functions. At home, Uncle Emdir insisted I drink juice like any other child.

I took some food and then sat back. 'All that remains is for us to get passage over to Doorn. I wish I could convince Uncle to let us buy a ship. A boat even. Anyway, I tried engaging a ferry, but they've all been booked. I came to sound you out for ideas.'

'Nothing simpler!' Orran cried with a clap of his hands. 'You sail with us. Aurie can stay with Kyran and Daia when we assemble to greet the Kings and Queens. They'll love it.'

'Where will I be?' I asked.

'Exactly where you should be—in your rightful place among the Narnian Lords in exile.'

I picked some grapes off their stem and let them roll on my plate. 'They're not going to let me. Just like they don't let me in the Council Chamber.'

'They will this time. I'm going to go speak with the governor tomorrow about some other matters. I will remind him of your kinship, and that all the reports back from Narnia say that these Kings and Queens seem to expect people to be honest and fair, and that if he were found denying a rightful Lord of Narnia his place, then our Emperor is likely to be very displeased.'

I dared to smile a bit. 'How do you think of these things?'

'The same way you do. Look at how you mastered your uncle,' Orran said, toasting me with his coffee cup.

I bowed my head over my plate and spread cheese on some bread with great care. But I smiled a bit to myself, and stored Orran's kind words up. In the days after Father died I used to dream of asking if I could live with him, but he had four children of his own, and a wife, and his wife's parents living at his house. There wasn't room for me.

A fortnight later the bells started ringing in the pale before dawn. I opened my eyes at once and stared into my shadowy room, my heart drumming with excitement. I rushed to get ready and soon we set off for the docks in the carriage with Orran's family. Everyone clambered into the boat with broad yawns.

The boat pushed off and joined the score of others coming off their own private quays and docks to cross the channel between Avra and Doorn. There was still a mist on the water, and we could only see the outlines of the boats and the lanterns hanging above them like so many blurred moons.

By the time we arrived, the mist had lifted to show a mild dawn with a peach coloured sun. I had expected something more spectacular for such an auspicious day. My next disappointment came in the waiting. We disembarked and passed the dock where the royal ship would put in. Workers were still finishing off the decorations and the fencing and the slow thud of their hammers echoed in the quiet air. I squinted out at the harbour. I could see a ship approaching, but it was far off and indistinct.

We nobles did not wait with the people who were starting to congregate; instead everyone went into one of the two important inns and breakfasted, a quiet breakfast where everyone hunched over their coffee due to the early hour. After breakfast, when the sun was up and the wind warmer and sweeter and more people milled about, excitement started to fill the air. The ship was no longer a shadow, but a real thing with the Emperor's lion rampant emblazoned on the sails, the scarlet lion which had not been seen in Narnia for a hundred years. The harbour started to buzz with conversation. The children, more awake after breakfast, began to shout and play. More of the common people arrived, and the governor joined the lords in our grandstand.

Orran leaned over to me and whispered, 'Your father believed his whole life he would see this day.'

'I know,' I said, my voice cracking. I still had trouble controlling that sometimes. I folded my cloak around me and drew in a breath. I wished he could have been standing there in his rightful place instead of me, a boy lord who didn't know what he was about.

The musicians arrived and they struck up melodies as they tuned their instruments. Occasionally a bass drum pounded. The weather cleared a bit and became one of those odd days where low hanging clouds have huge gaps in them which filtered rays of sunlight. These lit up the ocean and it was dazzling patches of deep cerulean and bright, glassy green.

A hush came over the crowd. Now we stood to attention, eager to both see the emperor and show him who his people were. Everything was still but for the light breeze which played over the harbour, ruffling hair and skirts and banners.

The gangway was lowered, and the musicians took this as their cue to start up one of the old Narnian chants that had been brought across in the first days of exile. The crowd took it up. Then the drum began beating a steady rhythm. We were a host of excited whispers. The trumpets blared a royal fanfare and we all held our breath.

At the top of the gangway appeared a boy king, and behind him, three other children.

The noise died out for a moment as everyone choked on their surprise. I knew what they were all thinking. I was half thinking it myself. Surely a youth barely more than a child could not be the liberator of Narnia. Impossible for a boy who could not even grow a beard.

But those who had already been to Narnia sent up a cheer. The drums beat again. Then a sunbeam pierced through the clouds and anointed the High King with light. He looked up, squinting a bit in the brightness, and everything about him shone, from his golden crown and the brooch pinning his scarlet cape across his shoulders to his golden hair and keen eagle eyes—his very face and his whole being. He was, in short, magnificent, and we only missed a beat before we began to cry 'Hail to the Emperor, Peter the High King! Hail to his consorts! Queen Susan! King Edmund! Queen Lucy!' These names had been reverently whispered in the Lone Islands for some two years, and now the names were attached to real people, but ones who seemed, in that moment, legends come to life.

The High King caught so much of my attention I didn't properly notice the others until they were at the bottom of the gangway. Queen Lucy was barely older than Aurie, and although she was alight with girlish joy, there was also something wise in her face, and the sun upon her made her as shining as her eldest brother.

Beside the High King stood Queen Susan, and I saw that what they said was true—she might be the most beautiful woman in the world, even though she was still a girl. The men around me muttered their appreciation. I worked to hide my disgust—she was half their age. She seemed aware of the stares and gravitated close to her elder brother. She didn't realise that her shyness made her more beguiling.

King Edmund, meanwhile, surveyed the scene with sharp eyes. He closely resembled Queen Susan with dark hair and fair skin. His eyes were dark where hers was a deep blue, and framed by long lashes, but he used these to shade their expression and watch from beneath them. While everything about Queen Susan's appearance was perfectly arranged artistry. King Edmund had a shock of dark hair which fell across his forehead, giving him a more rakish appearance. While Queen Susan put herself willingly on display, King Edmund was a watcher who did not allow himself to be watched. But underneath this was the awkwardness of fourteen, being somewhere between man and boy with altogether too much length and not enough strength to balance it out. I recognised this so well because I saw it in myself every time I looked in the mirror. And I thought: if a boy my age could save Narnia and become a king, what might I do? My thoughts flew so fast I couldn't catch them.

I stared, and Edmund must have felt it. He looked up, and our eyes met. His brows shot up in surprise and his mouth pursed a bit. He turned to Queen Lucy and murmured something to her, gesturing subtly at me. She strained to see, and when she caught sight of me, she waved. I half lifted my hand and curled my fingers to wave back.

The Kings and Queens processed on, following the governor to greet the people who were cheering wildly now. Before they were fully past me, King Edmund turned and gave me one more searching look and then, though I might have imagined it, the smallest quirk of a smile.