A/N: A day late, but my beta and I caught SO many typos in our edit passes so I think we're all glad I didn't toss pure swill onto the internet last night. If you follow me on insta, you know the most egregious one (also noted in the endnotes) 😂. Bit of a filler chapter, but it has some breadcrumbs we'll need later 👀

Chapter 72 Content Warnings: N/A


Chapter 72: it's complicated

Addie

Addie watches Caspian leave as she watched him return from his voyage: from a distance, hidden in a crowd on a balcony. The rail beneath her palms is rubble instead of polished stone, but the crowd cheering the king rings the same in her ears.

This time, Caspian doesn't look up. The King of Narnia rides into the western forest with Lilliandil at his side, and Addie doesn't linger to watch him disappear.

She turns away, and she returns to her work.


For once, luck is on her side. Mere days of searching stone tablets barely legible from water damage and half of them broken, and Addie finds something concrete. In King Frank I's official court history, there is a single line about how the king and his queen came to be in Narnia at the very moment Aslan sang the world and all its creatures into being.

His Majesty King Frank was brought into Narnia by way of magic rings at the hands of a Boy, another Son of Adam.

Addie reads it again. Magic rings. She crosses out her transcription and reads the script against her copy of Trufflehunter's rune translations.

Magic rings.

She checks it again, and once more.

Magic rings.

"Doctor Cornelius!"

"By the Mane!" He startles, magnifying glass clattering to the table. "What is it?"

Addie slides the tablet and her translation across the table, hope trembling under her skin. Now that Caspian's left and the crew's retrieved a towering pile of records, she spends most of her days in the Doctor's open-air tent.

"Look."

Cornelius adjusts his spectacles and reads the tablet and her translation, a finger on each, following the line of letters. As she did, he rereads it once, then again. On his second pass, Doctor Cornelius' eyes crinkle and a smile slowly takes shape, obscured by his moustache and beard.

"Well done, my dear. Keep searching."

Addie is already reaching for the tablet, flicking her fingers impatiently. Hope is dangerous, luminous, a reckless hunger wrenched open in her stomach.

A little more information, and she can go home. Caspian will soon marry, and she needn't witness it.


The first day after her discovery dawns sweltering despite the ocean breeze. The heat cracks into a thunderstorm that lasts from afternoon into the night, a staccato cycle of the sky's fury and half-hour pockets of quiet. Trufflehunter has them secure the sites and artifacts just before the rain starts and then sends everyone home.

Addie minds little; she pores over the personal records of Dagnank, Chief of Dwarfs and a member of Aslan's first council, and finds more about the rings. The Boy woke an evil witch in another world (the name's broken off) and brought her to Narnia with the rings. Aslan then declared that because "Adam's race has done the harm, Adam's race shall help to heal it." The next tablet said something about the Tree of Protection, but then the storm started.

When Addie is back in her room at the inn, sopping wet and chilled from the wind, she shucks off her wet clothes, wraps herself in a blanket, and stares out at the storm.

Did the Boy and King Frank and the Witch also come through the Wood Between Worlds? If they used the rings, they must've. Moreover, she only has two sets of rings, and at least three people came into Narnia. There must either be more rings somewhere, or one ring can transport more than one person. That'd make experimentation easier; she and her escort could use a single set, leave the other in Narnia in case something went wrong, and the escort could easily return to the Wood.

The question is still whether they could get back to Narnia through the Wood. If the pools are constant, then it's no trouble - just mark the pool where you come up, and you'll know the way back.

But if they aren't….

Addie shakes her head.

Surely some history or legend or journal knows about the pools.

Addie sits on the window ledge - narrow, wooden, uncomfortable to sit on but worth it for the ocean view - and writes to Josie, trying to puzzle out the workings of magic.

Even when she gets back to the Wood, how will she know which pool leads to England?


Queen Helen, the first queen of Narnia, kept her own journal. The pages are yellowed and warped, the book's leather cover bent and stained red by a broken wax seal. By some luck or God's mercy, the journal spent the last millennia or two nestled in a rusted iron chest that a minotaur easily opened despite the broken-off lock.

Addie turns every page slowly, an agonising pace forced by the book's delicate state. This, too, is worth it - Queen Helen, who Aslan somehow plucked right out of England, writes that her husband told an extraordinary story. The rings transported several others besides the Boy (named Digory), King Frank, and the Witch. The rings also brought a girl named Polly, a miserable willow of a man named Andrew, and a horse named Strawberry, who became Fledge, the first winged horse in Narnia.

Six people, two pairs of rings. It stands to reason that if King Frank or Queen Helen had their own sets of rings, they would've mentioned them - if not in the official court history, in their own writings. So it's likelier that Digory's rings took multiple people with him. Queen Helen wrote that someone else had rings too, but the rest of the entry is rotted, water-damaged, and unreadable.

Still nothing about the pools, but that's fine. It's there; she just has to find it.


More days pass with no new results. Addie finds a few more mentions of the rings, but nothing about the Wood Between Worlds. Doctor Cornelius agrees that the rings can transport multiple people, and that's something. If all else fails, that's a decent enough argument to use the rings, isn't it?

Only if the pools are stable. Otherwise her escort could be trapped in the Wood Between Worlds, doomed to roam the endless forest until they fell asleep or happened upon a portal to Narnia by chance. If she were taking the risk, it'd be fine. But Caspian decided the rings can't go with her, not even one set, so it's not just her.

He's been less cold lately. Maybe she can change his mind.

Addie shakes off the thought. She won't need to convince Caspian of anything, because these archives hold more answers and she's going to find them, no matter how long it takes.


"Adelaine, I think it's time we return to the capital."

Addie swigs water from her canteen, careful not to splash will touch the artifacts. It's barely ten o'clock in the morning, and already sweat is beading on her neck.

"King Caspian's coronation anniversary is in six days," continues Doctor Cornelius, elbows resting on the table. "We must leave tomorrow to arrive at the capital in time."

"Safe travels, then; I'll continue on here." Addie plugs her canteen and sits across from the Doctor. Yesterday she found three nearly complete accounts of Digory and Polly's quest to fetch a silver apple to plant the Tree of Protection. Today, she's translating a strange story of Narnia's first pet, a pitiful and temperamental creature named Brandy. Brandy's description sounds remarkably similar to the Andrew Queen Helen mentioned.

"I mean us both to go."

"Why? I'm more useful here."

The Doctor sighs and takes off his spectacles. "Perhaps, but the king explicitly requested our presence. We leave after breakfast."

Addie grits her teeth and swallows further argument. Doctor Cornelius obeys Caspian, and if Caspian expects them both, then Cornelius won't budge.

For a wild, witless moment, Addie wonders what would happen if she refused - if she marched into Cair Paravel at dawn, head high, and found a quiet spot underground. What could they do, drag her out?

Addie shakes her head. She's not a child; she shouldn't act like one.

"I'll pack tonight," she says by way of agreement. "I guess a week's delay isn't the end of the world."

A week of celebrations - she can babysit Cesare, give Lola and Alfonso some time alone together - then she'll be back here.

Doctor Cornelius breathes on his spectacles and cleans the lenses with his sleeve. "I'm afraid we've exhausted the Cair's archive. There's little to be gained by returning."

Little to be gained? She's made several important discoveries about the rings and their workings! Why stop now?

"We can't have read every tablet in that archive in a matter of days."

"You and I have not been the only ones looking," says the Doctor, quietly. "I commend your progress, but unless the crew unearths accounts from the boy Digory or anyone who directly used the item, I believe you've found the only information that survived the centuries."

Doctor Cornelius, giving up on getting rid of her as quickly as possible? Has the heat scrambled his brain?

"You don't know that," Addie argues. "There could be more archives, another room, more records -"

"Then Trufflehunter will send word, and we can return."

"Or we could return as soon as the celebrations are over and help search."

"I am needed in the capital, Adelaine," says the Doctor. "I am not free to forgo my other duties for this research."

"Then just me," Addie says, close enough to pleading it sours her stomach. "I'm not needed, and my time is most useful here."

Lola wants her - as do Cesare and Perla - but she's not needed.

Cornelius wants her to return to England, as does she. Their goal is the same; there should be no disagreement. After all, she's made an ally of Doctor Cornelius before.

Addie lowers her voice. "I want to go back to England as much as you want me out of Narnia - and out of Caspian's way. I'm less bother at the excavations, aren't I?"

Doctor Cornelius silently appraises her. Addie leans over the table, avoiding a stack of tablets by her elbow.

"You want me out of sight," she murmurs. "I want that, too."

Stroking his moustache, the Doctor slowly nods. "I will speak to the king."


Addie eats lunch with Doctor Cornelius at the inn. The breeze coming off the harbour cools them, and the cold-cut meat and fruit help.

Her knuckles ache from translating tablets as fast as she can write. Brandy turned out to be another human; Aslan vanished with him, Digory, and Polly after King Frank and Queen Helen's coronation. Aslan appears in many other stories, but the three world-travelling humans never do. Addie found nothing about the rings' fate, but Digory must have taken them back to Narnia, and Aslan must have allowed it.

What happened to Digory and the rings next is a mystery, but it must be important that Aslan didn't keep the rings in Narnia, didn't entrust them to King Frank or Queen Helen, and didn't take them himself.

"Aslan would know everything about the rings, wouldn't he?" Addie pops a sun berry into her mouth and chews. The small, yellow fruit is tangy like a pitless, citrus-tart cherry. It's one of Sellea's favourites to filch when Perla turns her back.

Doctor Cornelius hums into his cup of water. "Very likely he would. Unfortunately, Aslan has not been seen in Narnia since the Telmarine exodus."

"Are you sure?"

The Doctor lifts his bushy eyebrows. "His Majesty encountered Aslan at the world's end on his voyage east. But as I said, we have not seen the Lion on these shores in years."

"Can't we call for him somehow? Pray, or, I don't know, make an offering?"

Aslan probably won't be pleased she bumbled into Narnia with magic rings, but he wanted her gone before, so why wouldn't he help her get to England? He'll know what to do about the rings and how they work. Even if he doesn't, Aslan could take her back. Hell, Aslan will probably roar in her face and toss her through the nearest tree right onto Romsey's Main Street.

"Aslan goes where he wills," says the Doctor. "Not where we wish him to be. However, I doubt a respectful prayer would do any harm."

Addie sips her water, blessedly cool. "I'll do that, then. I'm sure he'll want me gone as soon as possible."

Cornelius steeples his fingers, arms resting on his stomach. "Let us hope so."


Addie rises before dawn after a fitful night of fractured dreams. Her mum's diary - the in-progress recreation Opheodra made possible - is open on her chest, where it must've fallen. She fell asleep rereading Mum's letter, and she dreamed of a stylus constantly slipping from her fingers and paper rippling like water at her touch.

Even in Narnia, her dreams are strange.

Addie tucks the diary into her bag (already packed, loathe as she was to do it) and stretches. Her back's sore from sleeping on it; she sleeps better on her side.

She sleeps better when the night is cool instead of sticky with residual summer-day heat, and she feels more rested when she's not alone. All these years, that's never changed.

None of that. That line of thought leads somewhere she shouldn't - can't - go.

Addie shoulders her bag and leaves for the beach. Doctor Cornelius said Aslan's country lies east and dawn's first light is when Aslan's presence is strongest, so a sunrise prayer by the ocean seems as good an idea as any. Hopefully Aslan's in a listening mood.


A brisk wind blows from the east, a much-needed respite from the stifling air indoors. The sky stretches from soft grey to pink-orange, and the sea's white-capped waves reach as far as the eye can see. In the dawn light, the sky's colours dance on the blue water, its foamy waves sparkling.

Addie breathes deep and tastes salt. She stopped avoiding the beach once Caspian left.

Cool sand shifts beneath her bare feet as the waves crash ashore, a constant cycle of foaming advance and hushing withdrawal, endlessly retreating and returning.

A bit like her.

Addie cradles her gift for Cesare - a half-conch shell she found at low tide yesterday, washed up and half-buried in a sea cave - and fills her lungs with a last taste of the sea air. She didn't always love the smell of salt and sand, but she'll miss it.

She'll miss a lot of things.

It's for the best.

Facing east, Addie kneels at the edge of the wet sand and sets Cesare's shell aside. She's not the praying type - she and Mum only went to Sunday service for Christmas and Easter, more for community than piety - but if Aslan can get her home, it's worth trying.

"Aslan?"

A gull screeches overhead, and another calls back. Addie closes her eyes and crosses her hands in her lap.

"I'm not sure what I'm doing, and you're probably not glad to hear from me, if you're listening, but…"

God, this is ridiculous. She may as well be talking to herself.

Addie squares her shoulders, peeks at the brightening sky, and squeezes her eyes shut again. Better to try than not.

"Aslan, what I mean is, I don't think I'm supposed to be in Narnia. I'm having trouble getting home, so I'm hoping you'd be willing to help."

Aslan probably knows how she got here, doesn't he? He's supposed to know everything that happens in Narnia.

"I'll go, I don't care about the method - toss me through another tree if you want, that's fine. Just please give me time to say my goodbyes, then do what you want. I think we want the same thing."

Is that good enough? Addie waits for an answer and hears only the churning sea, seagulls, and the rising hum of the port waking up.

Maybe she wasn't meek enough? Isn't that what gods like?

"Please," Addie murmurs. "I've made a mess of things like usual, so I'm asking for your help. Whatever form that takes, I'll be grateful."

There, that's more humble. She has made a mess, and she's taking too long to fix it.

Addie kneels in the sand until her knees go numb and the morning sun washes her closed eyelids in gold and red.

Her only answer is the endless, crashing churn of the waves.

It's down to her, then.

Addie stands, brushes off her knees, and returns to the inn.


Caspian

"Tassels and toadstools, another trip?" Trumpkin scowls into his cheese pastry, his irritation echoing in the otherwise empty dining hall. Caspian's morning spar ran late, so he moved his meeting with Trumpkin to the breakfast table.

Caspian stifles a smile and sips his coffee, an expensive Calormen import brought to Narnia from recently expanded trade routes. He hopes that the new trade ties will smooth Narnia's tense relationship with the desert kingdom. He's still adjusting to the bitter taste, but the drink burns away morning brain fog like nothing else.

"After my easterly travels, a brief sojourn in Lantern Waste wouldn't be remiss. After the summer solstice, if Ettinsmoor quiets, Lady Lilliandil and I will spend a week in Chippingford."

Just this morning, Lady Opheodra sent word that her hunting parties intercepted the werewolf pack and killed two of the monstrous beasts. The rest of the pack escaped into the northwestern mountains. Time will tell if they'll creep out to haunt the moors again.

Trumpkin harrumphs and washes his pastry down with tea. "Ettinsmoor's nothing but trouble. Twenty to one says as soon as you gallop off into the sunset, that pack goes prowling."

"If they do, I'll return to the capital within two days. Lantern Waste is far closer than the Cair."

Trumpkin grumbles, then leans back in his chair and waves away the promise. "Might not be necessary. Glenstorm's ready to lead a regiment north. Take your holiday, or diplomatic trip, or whatever you're calling it."

"No," Caspian says. "Send word if the pack makes trouble, and I will return."

If Lady Opheodra needs reinforcements, he could send Glenstorm in his stead. But when it comes to war and battle, Caspian refuses to send others to fight while he stays in the capital's safety. That was his uncle's way; it will not be his. In battle, he will take the same risks he asks of his soldiers.

Trumpkin spears a cold slice of ham from a nearby platter and begins cutting it into precise triangular bites.

"If you're coming back with a queen-to-be, take as long as you like."

This again? Caspian clenches his jaw. First Doctor Cornelius, then Addie, and now Trumpkin have taken sudden curiosity in his future nuptials. Though his intentions with Lilliandil are obvious, it's a private matter.

"In good time," he says.

"There was talk you'd return from Cair Paravel with your future queen," Trumpkin says around a mouthful of ham. "I s'pose these things can't be rushed."

Caspian sips his coffee and rolls it over his tongue until he tastes nuttiness. "Who told you that?"

Trumpkin gestures vaguely around the dining hall. "Whole castle was buzzing about it. Don't look so put out - it was a reasonable assumption given your sudden return to the Cair."

"That was official business," Caspian says - he stated so publicly. "I'd thank you not to repeat those rumours. Nothing is decided yet."


With the anniversary feast beginning on the morrow, Caspian crawls with relief into the arms of royal responsibilities. Besides the usual business of ruling, the week includes hunts, jousting and other tournaments, and a horse race - an old Telmarine tradition some centaurs have joined. Had he a queen, she would oversee much of the feast, dancing, music, and other entertainment preparations. Instead, the castle headmistress reports directly to him, though she comments more than once that he needn't concern himself with trivial matters.

"My kingdom's celebrations are not trivial," Caspian tells her. He won't overstep, but he ought to be aware of the arrangements, from the planned events to the servant schedules. "I greatly appreciate your efforts, madame."

The headmistress' ears flush pink. "Well, that's a fine thing to say, that is." The towering Telmarine woman, almost his same height, gives him seating charts - a formality to begin the affair that will be forgotten as people come and go. "Begging your pardon, Sire, but mightn't your lady want to look these over as well?"

'If she is your future queen, you must prepare her to share this burden,' Doctor Cornelius once told him.

I know I wasn't much good at it, I know, but I was trying.

Caspian skims the charts, considering. Lilliandil is not yet his betrothed, and she should enjoy the festivities unencumbered. He ought not risk overwhelming her with burdens not yet on her shoulders.

That was part of his mistake with Addie.

"Lady Lilliandil is my guest," Caspian says. "Don't trouble her with this." He taps tomorrow's seating chart. "Place Telmar's ambassador beside Lord Bern. They share family ties,, if distant."

The headmistress curtsies. "Sire."


With no time for a lunch picnic, Caspian shares a late afternoon tea with Lilliandil instead. He's seen her less this past fortnight thanks to the upcoming festivities and Ettinsmoor's troubles.

Caspian meets the star in the castle garden. As ever, she's a vision of beauty, casting a pale blue glow onto the flowers and trickling fountain.

"My lady." He bows and kisses her hand in greeting - his usual salutation since they grew closer at Cair Paravel. Now the only people who know more about his past than Lilliandil have lived it with him.

"Caspian." Lilliandil smiles and curtsies, effortlessly elegant. "How fare the feast preparations?"

Caspian sits with her at the small table, a now-permanent fixture in the garden. "Nearly finished. All is well."

Lilliandil pours his cup first, then her own. Sweet orange drifts into Caspian's nose - Galman orange tea, Lilliandil's recent favourite.

"And Ettinsmoor?"

"Quiet, for now," Caspian says, offering the plate of ham and cucumber sandwiches to Lilliandil before taking two triangles for himself. "I doubt the pack is defeated for good, but Lion willing, we can all enjoy the week's festivities."

Hooves clattering down the stone path draw his attention, and a faun bearing a small scroll trots around a patch of flowering dahlias.

Caspian beckons to her. "What news, Phossa?"

He's only to be disturbed for urgent matters; perhaps he dismissed Ettinsmoor too soon.

"From Doctor Cornelius, Sire," says the faun, bowing as she gives him the scroll.

Caspian thanks her and breaks the scroll's string and waxen seal. It's mostly good news - the Doctor expects to arrive with Addie tonight, just in time for the celebrations' beginning.

The note also says while Addie found mention of the rings in Cair's archive, there is not enough information on their workings. It was a trip of moderate success without firm conclusions.

Unfortunate, to be sure, but not terrible news. After all, this is to be a week of jubilation. Inevitable partings can wait a little longer.

"Has Doctor Cornelius found something?" Lilliandil asks when the faun has left.

Caspian rolls up the message and tucks it into his waistband. "The research met some success, but the most critical questions remain unanswered."

Lilliandil stirs a drizzle of honey into her tea, her blue eyes pensive. "Addie must be disappointed," she says. "But it is good she can enjoy Narnia's festivities."

Caspian nods and eats a sandwich. His thoughts are much the same.

Lilliandil peers at him over her teacup. These appraising pauses, he's learned, are her deciding whether to ask him something personal. Lilliandil isn't one to pry, but she is an insatiably curious soul.

"Will Addie and the Doctor return to Cair Paravel after the solstice?"

Caspian hesitates. Doctor Cornelius indicated they've exhausted Cair Paravel for clues, unless Trufflehunter finds another archive room. Unlikely, though the scholar expressed hope.

"There would be little utility in it," Caspian says. "Most likely, Doctor Cornelius will tend his other responsibilities here unless Trufflehunter makes a new discovery."

Lilliandil frowns, pale eyebrows drawn together. "Then Addie is trapped here, in Narnia?"

Trapped? Caspian blows on his tea, inhaling the soothing scent of sweetened oranges and a hint of lemongrass. Addie's more than adept at slipping through people's fingers; he doubts even magic rings and Woods Between Worlds can trap her anywhere she doesn't want to be.

"For now."

Lilliandil hums and looks away. She dips her fingers into the fountain, her light reflecting off the polished white marble.

"The strife between you two seems lessened."

Caspian blinks down at his cup. His rippling reflection stares back, one step from annoyance.

"As much as it can be, I think. Yes."

"You must be relieved?"

"I suppose."

Caspian gulps his tea, and the lukewarm rush of saccharine citrus clears his head. So long as he remembers Addie is not here to stay, he's glad that he can look upon her face without wanting to shake her.

Lilliandil's gaze falls on him, strangely heavy though her words are gentle.

"I am glad for it. Your shared past seemed to cause you much… distraction aboard the Lily."

Caspian stiffens. He was distracted by his princely past and the war; that's all.

That, and perhaps a trifle of passing concern over Addie's brief flirtation with that sailor. She intends to leave Narnia, and she's ill-suited to frivolous dalliances. It was a poor match.

"A little," Caspian allows. "But that distraction is no more."

Lilliandil's pleasant smile flickers.

It's this castle making her uneasy. It's this stifling, memory-ridden, dark castle chilled by mountain air and his ancestor's not-so-distant sins.

"Shall we go for a sunset ride?" Caspian says on a whim. "I think fresh air would do us both good."

Lilliandil softens and reaches across the table to take his hand. Her skin is cool as a moonlit river, soft as silk.

"I would like that very much."

Caspian kisses her knuckles. "Meet me at the stables in two hours."


Joyful pandemonium engulfs the city by dawn's first light. Caspian takes his morning coffee - sweetened, for the occasion - by his open window, the better to hear his people's celebration. No matter the state of his love life, his people are cheerful, and that is enough to fill his heart.

Before his voyage east, Caspian preferred to let his kingdom rejoice without him. His presence weighed down any gathering, and his heartbreak was his to bear alone. This is the first year he will fully partake in the festivities - feasts, dancing, parade, tournaments.

Four years he has borne the crown. As Caspian sits on his window's ledge and watches rose petals flutter through the castle courtyard and city streets in the pink light of sunrise, every day of his kingship weighs on his shoulders, and yet he does not ache with duty's unforgiving embrace as he once did.

Duty was his only solace for years. Loves would linger and sour, friends would come and go, but always, his kingdom needed him.

As he needed his kingdom.

Caspian finishes his coffee, sugar-sweetness tempered by a roasted, nutty flavour. Now, perhaps, he is whole enough to share his people's good cheer.


Addie

She missed this city. Cair Paravel's beach has its charms, but the Telmarine capital was once her home.

Once - a past home, not the present. She can't forget that.

Addie checks the kitchen's schedule; given the festivities, all servants should be busy from dawn to midnight. Though everyone - herself included - is scheduled for more shifts than usual, by some miracle of scheduling or over-staffing, she still has time to explore the celebrations. Today, she doesn't have work until this evening. Her schedule is similar to Lola's - mostly in the castle kitchen, not the outdoor fires for roasting meat on spits. It'll be miserably hot, but that can't be helped.

Caspian summoned Doctor Cornelius for a report, but thankfully didn't mention her name. Instead, Addie goes to see Lola, squeezing through the streets choked with servants rushing about and singing groups of revellers getting an early start on the fun.

"Auntie Addie!"

A blur of dark curls and boundless energy charges at her the second she opens the door. Addie barely sets down her bag and kneels before Cesare slams into her chest, knocking her breathless and almost off her feet.

"Momma, Addie's back, Addie's back!"

"Yes, sweets, I'm back," Addie wheezes, Cesare's chubby arms locked around her neck. Lola meets her smile across the room, and Addie's eyes suddenly water.

She'll miss this.

"Di' you see a sea dragon?" Cesare squirms out of her arms with a tooth grin that melts too fast. "What's wrong, auntie?"

Addie brushes a curl behind his ear and pinches his cheek. "I just missed you so much. Want to see what I brought you?"

Cesare cheers, momentary concern forgotten, and Addie reaches into her bag for the white conch shell. It was a fantastically lucky low-tide find.

Cesare's eyes bug out.

"It's heavy," Addie says. "And breakable. Promise to be careful?"

"I will!" Cesare's little hands reach, and she gently gives him the broken half-shell, supporting his hands from below so he won't drop it. Lola approaches, and Addie thumbs the edges she sanded down.

"See how it curves around?" Addie traces the inner spiral.

"Uh huh."

"That's where the baby sea dragon hides. Crabs too, sometimes."

"Papa's dragon would fit!" Cesare drops the shell into her hand and sprints upstairs.

Lola smiles after him, shaking her head fondly. "He's sure to break it, you know."

"If he does, I can always find another one." Addie shrugs. "Though it's probably safer if you tell him his dragon sleeps in this and store it high enough he can't reach."

"Good idea." Lola pulls her into a hug. "So?"

Addie sets the shell on a nearby table and hugs her back. "Didn't find as much as I hoped."

Lola's arms tighten. "Good."

Addie doesn't argue. No sense in spoiling a good day.

"Where's Alfonso?"

Lola chuckles as Cesare comes barrelling down the stairs waving his wooden sea serpent.

"He's getting some last-minute practice before the archery contest. He's quite good with a crossbow, and the prize is ten gold coins - Lions, that is."

"Is that today? Easy there, one second." Addie steadies the shell as Cesare sets his toy in the widest part.

"It fits!"

"In an hour," Lola says, kneeling. "We were about to leave, actually. What do you say, Cesare?"

"Thank you, Auntie Addie!" Cesare hugs her again.

Lola ruffles his hair and kisses his head. "Alright, get your shoes on. Time to go cheer for your papa."

Cesare whoops and rushes to obey.

"I'll put this upstairs." Addie takes the shell, careful not to disturb Cesare's sea serpent. Even so, it wobbles thanks to a missing claw.

"Why can't Dragon come?" Cesare pouts.

"Because you just put him to bed. He's already napping, see?" Addie lays the toy on its side and mimics a reptilian snore. "How about you let him sleep so he's ready to play when we get back?"

Cesare sticks his lower lip out. "But I want him to see Papa win."

"It's very crowded outside, my love," Lola says as she checks Cesare's shoes and slides on her own. "Sir Dragon would be sad if you dropped him, yes?"

"I won't drop him!"

"Cesare," Addie says. "Your mother said no."

Cesare stomps his foot. "But Papa made Dragon! Papa'd want to see him."

Addie trades a silent glance with Lola. Cesare's being stubborn right now, but odds are he'll forget all about his toy once they get outside. Lola is already unlatching the door, the city's cheers and scattered singing filtering in. She kneels and pats her back.

"On my shoulders, Cesare. We don't want to be late."

"No, I want Dragon!"

"Go with your mum," Addie says. "I'll wake Sir Dragon and follow you in a moment. Alright?"

Cesare frowns as she helps him up, but thankfully, he doesn't physically protest.

Lola mouths 'Thank you' and hurries out. Outside, trumpets blare and criers call to make way for the king. Cesare giggles at once and reaches into a shower of petals, his toy already forgotten. Addie runs the shell and dragon upstairs and waits until the trumpets fade before following.


Lola's right; Alfonso has respectable skill with a crossbow. Out of fifty contestants, he places seventh, for a tidy purse of three Lions given by Lilliandil. Addie lets Cesare stand on her shoulders when Lola tires, and the rascal tries to jump right off when he spots Alfonso pushing through the crowd.

"Papa, papa!"

Addie hands him over and stretches her sore, sweaty back, praying Cesare doesn't remember Sir Dragon. Fortunately, Alfonso keeps his son well-occupied, probably tiring him out so he'll behave at the feast. The nobles have theirs in the castle, but there's a massive spread of tables in the field just outside the city for everyone else.

Caspian's a generous king. His uncle's feasts, from what little Addie knew at the time, were exclusive affairs, and all the servants hated them. Perla's entire staff worked long into the night to keep up. Now she has hours yet before she has to work.

Addie takes Cesare as Lola kisses her husband in congratulations and Alfonso spins her round as much as possible with the crowd pressing on all sides.

While she's here, she may as well be grateful.


She eats too much at the feast. Addie leans on her elbows and rubs her middle, wishing the wooden bench had back to lean against.

"I'm never eating again," she moans to Lola.

"Give it an hour," Lola says, patting her stomach. Beside her, Cesare and Alfonso are somehow still eating. "Once you walk it off, you'll be hungry again."

"In an hour, we need to be in the kitchen," Addie reminds her.

Lola grimaces. "Tash, I almost forgot."

Addie sips her cider - one of the few non-alcoholic beverages she could find - and wills her stomach to settle. "Don't even joke about that. Perla would raise hell."


Addie spends the late afternoon, evening, and most of the next day treading a well-rehearsed dance of chopping vegetables, candying nuts, and kneading bread and pie dough in Perla's kitchen. After they're done, Lola insists on attending the evening dance under the sunset. The moment they find the revel, Addie takes Cesare and shoos Lola and Alfonso toward the spinning mass of coupled-up dancers. A blue glow is bobbing across the field, and she had her fill of bumping into the royal couple at Cair Paravel.

Cesare yanks on her sleeve and bounces on his toes.

"I wanna dance too!"

Addie bites back a groan. She hoped to play with Cesare in the grass - sitting down.

"Just one for now," she says, lifting him onto her hip. "See if you can spot your momma and papa."

The song is short, thank God. Cesare claps along with the drums as Addie links arms with a faun and skips on aching feet. At the flutes' crescendo, partners break away into singles and form a circle. Addie takes a girl's hand while Cesare takes a faun's.

In the inner circle, the blue glow draws near. Addie stumbles, balance faltering as she stares.

Caspian is smiling, his features cast into sharp relief by Lilliandil's light. He's not as carefree as he is on a ship, but he still looks… young.

Addie breathes easier when the dance ends and she leaves the circle, despite Cesare's protests.

"Why don't you catch a lightning bug, and then we'll dance again?"

Cesare huffs. "Candle-bug."

"Candle-bug, then. So you can show your momma and papa when they get back."

"But -" Cesare's mouth drops open. He points back to the dance, where Lilliandil and Caspian have emerged from the circle just as the fauns' pipes speed into a faster song. "O-o-o-o-h, what's that?"

"Don't point, Cesare, it's rude," Addie says, lowering his hand. "That's Lady Lilliandil. She's -"

Heading right for them. Her and Caspian both.

"Good evening, Addie!" the star calls. "I trust your journey was pleasant?"

"My lady. Your Majesty." Addie curtsies, wobbling with Cesare's weight. "Yes, it was, thanks."

Caspian clears his throat, his eyes darting to Cesare before settling on her. "And you're enjoying the festivities?"

"I am." Excluding her sore feet. Addie nods toward the dancers and wills the heat in her cheeks to retreat. "Everyone is."

Lilliandil focuses on a for-once still and silent Cesare. "And who is this?"

"This is Cesare," Addie says, nudging him out of his trance. "Cesare, this is Lady Lilliandil and King Caspian. Say hello."

Cesare blinks, wide eyes fixed on Lilliandil. "Are you a moon fairy?"

Lilliandil laughs. "I'm a star. It's lovely to meet you, Cesare."

"But if you're a star, shouldn't you be up there?" Cesare points to the sky, speckled with Lilliandil's kin.

"Cesare," Addie scolds.

"It's alright." Lilliandil leans down to Cesare's eye level, thankfully not offended. "I may return to the sky one day, but for now, I'm visiting Narnia."

"O-o-oh." Cesare shifts on Addie's hip, the beginning of his usual restlessness. "Do you like it here?"

"Very much." Lilliandil takes Caspian's hand, a motion Addie could've stopped herself from noticing if the star wasn't glowing so bright.

By some god's mercy, Lola and Alfonso are approaching, wrapped in each other's arms.

"Cesare," Addie says, "there's Momma and Papa." To Caspian and Lilliandil, she curtsies and dismisses herself. "Excuse us, my lady, your Majesty."

Cesare wiggles in her arms, whining already. "Wait, but -"

Addie shushes him, to little avail - Cesare digs his heels into her stomach and cranes over her shoulder.

"Have fun on earth, Miss Star-Lily!"

"Lady Lilliandil," Addie corrects.

"Have fun, Miss Lady!"

Addie gives up.

Alfonso jogs over and takes his squirmy son.

"What was that about?" Lola says, pulling Addie close and linking their arms.

"Just Cesare making friends," Addie says.

Lola purses her lips, but it's soon forgotten as Cesare babbles about Lilliandil and stars walking on the ground.

To quiet him, Lola suggests another dance, to which Cesare happily agrees. Addie joins them for two dances, then begs off to rest her feet. Lola's family of three carries on without her, as they should.

"I wondered if you'd returned."

Addie startles, pressing a hand to her chest before calming. It's Lady Opheodra.

"Just yesterday," Addie says. "I'm sorry I didn't stop by, I was with Lola and… anyway, how are you?"

"I am well enough - I'm glad to have found you now." Lady Opheodra comes up beside her, their shoulders brushing. "And you? Did you find what you sought at Cair Paravel?"

Addie shrugs, grimacing. "Some of it."

Opheodra tilts her head and watches the dancers spin by long enough the song changes from a lively reel to a slower, drum-heavy stomp.

"Have you other obligations tonight?"

Addie scans the crowd and spots Lola, Alfonso, and Cesare at a table of refreshments.

"No," Addie says. "But I should say goodnight to my friend first."

"Go," says Opheodra, nudging her elbow. "Then let us catch up by the fire. I believe your mother's diary is yet incomplete?"

Addie's hand flies to her skirt pocket. She takes that diary everywhere but the kitchen.

"Yes," she says. "Are you… we can do more tonight?"

Opheodra nods, ever gracious. "Say your goodnights, then come with me. I think we have much to discuss."


A/N: I need y'all to know I mistyped Cesare's "Are you a moon fairy" as "Are you a moon dairy" and had possibly the worst, most pun-filled, degenerate conversation in my life with my beta reader. This is why we proofread, y'all 😅

Chapter 73 Preview:

"No," Caspian says. "I forbid it."

Let that be the end of it. No experiments, no reckless magical trips into the unknown. If nothing more can be known about the rings, then…

Then Addie must stay in Narnia.

It is Addie who breaks the silence.

"What if I went alone?"