Dear Lucy,

I was very glad indeed to get your letter. I'm happy to hear that you too are keeping happy and busy—and warm. Don't forget to cheer up Susan when she needs it. Though she doesn't say so, I can guess from her letters that she must get a little blue sometimes, and that's when she needs you most. Don't let on that I told you to take care of her, though.

I am very eager now to get home and hear the song that you will sing for me. I will blow the horn before we come over the ridge and that's how you'll know we'll be close. Then you can start singing and before you know it we'll all be together again.

The battle was very hard, and exciting in a scary way. Though Susan tells me she's teaching you to shoot and Edmund wants to teach you to ride now, I still do not want you to come with us. It's not the place for you, Lu, and I couldn't bear it if something happened to you. Thank you for offering your cordial, but I have been thinking that we really shouldn't carry it to war. There are so many injuries in a battle we'd be tempted to use it too often, and what will we do if we need it for something really serious? I rather think we are to preserve your cordial as we are Susan's horn—only for the greatest need.

It is very good to be riding east again, with our faces to the sunrise and home always nearer. We move faster and faster by the day, and I expect to see you and Susan very soon. Save a hug for when you see me.

Love,

Peter

Dear Susan,

I certainly didn't want to alarm you with my letter, and I am glad you took comfort in the fact that Aslan got both me and Edmund out safely. I take comfort in that too, and in the fact that he keeps you and Lucy safe. I don't know if you read Lucy's letter before posting them both with the messenger, but she talks now of coming with me and Edmund. I hope that you agree with me that this must absolutely not happen. Ever. It's hard enough to bring Edmund with me; I'm in constant fear of him getting horribly hurt, for the memory of Beruna is still very much with me. When I saw him go down under her hand…but I won't write of it. He is safe and better, thanks to you and Lucy.

I think you ought to put yourself in the tapestry. You had a hand in saving Edmund's life, and Narnia needs to remember that. People say the victors revise history, and you would be doing so by leaving out your role. I teased you about sewing the tapestry before, but I actually think it's a wonderful idea. Mrs Beaver is right; someone would sew it if it wasn't you, and if you do the work the story will be closer to the truth. Have you noticed the Narnians make much of us? I noticed that the other day when we rode into the town of Lionsheath. I had thought all of Narnia turned up for our coronation, but apparently not. The people of the town lined the streets and gave me and Edmund a resounding welcome, even though they had never seen us, and the defeat of the Witch and our coronation were only rumors to them. I'm amazed that a people can have so much faith. They didn't question our youth or our right, they cheered as if we were well beloved monarchs. I'm pleased, of course, but it also makes me realize just how much responsibility we carry.

Lionsheath is an interesting town. Edmund vows that you wouldn't want to take the ride out here because the terrain is so rough, but I think you would like it. Apparently this part of Narnia was much favored by Queen Helen, the very first queen of Narnia, and the people have remembered that through all the thousands of years afterwards. She kept a castle here, and they have preserved all her effects almost as museum pieces. I know very little about her and her husband's reign, but it seems to me they must have been very great rulers to be so well remembered. I can only hope we give Narnia something to remember and be half worthy of the honors they give us.

We will be home in just a few days, and I will be so glad to see Cair Paravel again! Perhaps I have said that before, but I am so looking forward to it, it bears repeating. I keep thinking of greeting you and Lucy at the castle doors and the idea makes me urge my horse on faster. I almost think Edmund would like to linger and explore, but I won't let him. Although he also wants to see you both, even if he would never admit that out loud.

As I write, my eye falls upon Lucy's letter, and I wonder if we shouldn't see to schooling for Edmund and Lucy, and perhaps for ourselves. If they are to be a king and queen, they really should be educated, and after watching Edmund at strategy I think that he's actually smarter than I ever gave him credit for. We really ought to cultivate that; it could be a great asset to both himself and to Narnia. As for ourselves, there are years of Narnian history we have to learn, and the customs of other countries…a few lessons might do us all good, and improve Lucy's grammar.

I don't know if Edmund would like the idea of you picking out his clothes for him, but I know I certainly wouldn't mind. I'm really fine with anything so long as I'm comfortable, and that doesn't seem to ever be an issue with Narnian clothes. So I'll just expect my closet to be well stocked, shall I?

Edmund is yelling at me that I must go to dinner now. The townspeople have prepared a small feast in our honor, and I must install a duke to govern over these parts. Before I go, though, I will tell you that since Edmund has a surprise for Lucy, I have found one for you. I miss you, and I thank Aslan that I shall see you both soon.

Love,

Peter