The scent of blood no longer assaulted the nose, but it was present, easily detectable for one that knows its scent. Once detected, it would cling and never let go, dragging with it a plenty of things.

Pain, buried deep that even the softest of sounds couldn't even be uttered. Dread, for the possibilities of what to come. Silence followed by stillness, because at this point, that was always the end of these things. Waiting.

Underneath it all was anger, because this shouldn't have happened. With it, was guilt and hope.

Susan marveled at the cacophony of these emotions she was both witness and a participant of. She stood by one of the far walls. Drowning not only in the aforementioned emotions, but also in realizations. She was sure she wasn't alone. She was sure they would reach different conclusions. She had a clue of what those conclusions were.

In this Great Hall converted to fit the amount of bodies, damaged and struggling against the Death that walked its length, Susan watched as light walked the same path in defiance. Love in the forefront of their countenance. Hope in their touch. Strength ever willing to be shared not because it's in excess.

That's most they could provide, because their failure caused this in the first place.

"We are not just humans."

"We are not."

A realization made by the shadows as they watched the grieving light.

Susan didn't even look at her side, knowing who it was before the words were even uttered. Edmund would be standing with a calm expression and a touch of the perfect shadow of a smile. A cover that was foolproof to their people. Almost to their light. Never to her. Never to her, because she knew that he was holding his hands together behind him, digging his nails to his flesh. She knew the darkness that haunted his gaze. The thoughts that were still whispered in the Witch's voice. She knew him the same way she knew that Peter was trying his best not to clench his fist to the point that he couldn't loosen it. An action that would lead to him wanting to hit something and to hurt, and the thought that it wasn't enough a punishment to this failure. Thus, he opted to holding, gripping and patting shoulders, limbs and arms. Sharing the strength that he was mining from within. She knew them the same way she heard the roar in Lucy's words and laughter. The promise in every word of comfort and the unspoken question of what went wrong.

"We are not just humans." She repeated his words, not only because it needed repeating. It needed repeating because it was an old realization. It was the weight and extent linked to it that required the repetition.

She could feel Edmund's eyes on her, waiting with that shadow of the smile ever present.

"Your orders, Sister Queen?" This was the final push she was waiting for, after all.

From the instant they stepped out of that hotel up to this moment two weeks after, the Candy Syndicate removed any notion of rest.

It wasn't abnormal. Days after such missions always dictated such. Plans were made, remade and executed. Every step taken with extreme caution to not spook their enemies to the point of disappearing like they did before. One reason among others.

What was abnormal was that it never reached the usual normalcy, but only as close to it as possible.

"I'm tired and I'm blaming work, not you." The laughter that followed took attention. Not because it was too loud or too much. It wasn't because it sounded fake. It didn't sound fake at all. "Truly. Of all things to tease me about, you choose this. You of all people should know that this isn't something to tease about."

It took attention because it was familiar when it shouldn't be. It was an unfamiliar turning to something familiar, in a place where it shouldn't be.

"You're like me!" It was eerie to witness, even when one was aware of what was happening. Rather, especially when one was aware. "Not exactly the same, but we're both greedy bastards with a knack in business."

The words and emotion with its overall delivery felt natural that knowing what was happening caused it to be uncanny.

Because this was Ursa in a space and place that's for Susan Pevensie. That should be for her.

Because Lucien Alexandre clung to Ursa Sullivan the moment she stepped out of the gala. Because apparently the interest wasn't a passing fancy.

Merlin watched as Ursa's face fell. Her lips the focus of such expression. A momentary downturn that shifted to pressing her lips together.

"That's sweet of you to say and I appreciate it. It's unfair and far from your fault that I'm disappointed, but I am." Ursa didn't glide or sway when taking her calls. She didn't even gesticulate. She expressed her emotions on her face and in her tone. While everything else was kept within. While Pevensie was, from what he saw, almost the exact opposite. "I adore Klaus and would love to see him again, but I expected you. I did my best to clear my schedule because you said you were coming and it escaped my mind that we're barely even friends. I am not the most important in your life and getting excited shouldn't be my main emotion."

It bothered Merlin that he was getting to know Ursa faster than Susan Pevensie. And it was because this mission didn't even ask for their decision. The moment Lucien called while Pevensie finally took her late breakfast, set it up for all of them.

"I guess blaming work was an excuse when I know It's my fault."

It was strange because there's a difference even in the way she used her eyes.

"I'm looking forward to Klaus' arrival, don't doubt that. I would never want to hurt his feelings even if I knew how to." She took a deep breath, closing her eyes during the duration. Gathering strength. "Maybe you'll surprise me with something the next time."

"I would love a gift from you. Maybe something thoughtful." She smiled, soft and indulging but it didn't chase away the disappointment in her tone. "Bye."

A tap on the phone to end the call. A movement to slip it back into a pocket. A slight turn.

"I guess he's still in Berlin." A sigh. "I forgot to ask if Klaus is even coming on the same date."

People in their line of business upheld the mission first and then the persona second as the norm. It was the way it always was. It was because of this that there's always a shift in the shedding of the persona. A transition. It was why if one knew how to manipulate, one can easily figure out friend from foe.

If one knew how to manipulate, one could easily make pawn and play.

Unless it was the other way around, which was a rare occurrence. If so, then what was the goal?

Pevensie made it look like that last one. That first call, the morning after, only proved it so because the shift was barely recognized. The small talk. The expressions and the sighs. The end of Ursa and the start of Pevensie was blurred. Especially when after said call, Eggsy was addressed as Misha and it was as if the rest of them weren't even there. And in the next beat she was calling Merlin a Wizard.

It didn't help that such switching followed them to HQ, and that he wanted to ask, but was too curious of the results.

Well, it did help at some point. Exposure meant familiarity after all.

"He's going to board a flight to China by tomorrow." Merlin started, flicking the tracking and the rest of the information on his cliptab, his gaze still on her. "As for Klaus, I'm sure he'll be calling Ursa soon."

Ursa never, for the past two weeks, was the one to initiate the call.

There was one look and after that, one expression that was Susan Pevensie's. At least, he thought it was exclusive to her. It was too early to say and she hadn't performed past that one persona of Ursa Sullivan, yet.

There.

It was that momentary look of being unreachable and untouchable, as if she wasn't there existing at that instance. A look he could distinguish, because the one that was mixed with panic and loss was carved deep in his memory. A look that he learned would warp into an expression that made him feel like she's looking at the world from the same set of eyes but from different points of time, from different aspects of the same person.

Another moment and it's gone.

"Truly Merlin, you should've made yourself comfortable instead of waiting framed by the doorway."

"I doubt you'd allow the call to span too long." He logged the call for evaluation later and adjusted his schedule for the day.

"Getting sick of the conversations, I see." She approached him with that ever default amused and teasing smile. It made him curious why she opted for such expression as her default. And how she could maintain it. "I'll do my best to spare you of the nonsense."

"I thought this was your best." He couldn't help but bite the bait. He didn't even try to resist. When it came to these little banters, he found himself enjoying the spark that lit her eyes when he accepted her challenge and laid his own. He could see the thoughts shifting and the plans forming in her gaze and he would openly deny that he was looking forward to it.

He was always denying that he was looking forward to whatever she was going to do. Too curious.

"He tried to sound as he usually is, but even Eggsy would hear that he's distressed."
"That might be because Ursa's disappointed."

She raised an eyebrow at him. Her expression enough to convey what she wanted to say.

He gave her a one shouldered shrug in return. He knew she knew what he meant. "Or, that would be our people bringing down their bases one by one."

"We might be able to push another mission to one of their bases in Berlin if he's going to fly to Beijing. Not one under his care, of course. If he falls out of favor, it would make my job harder. Just something to keep him on his toes."

"Would there be any change of plans on your end?"

"Minor adjustments. We can still go through with the plan and just set it on the day Klaus is going to arrive. I would have to go to the office to tell them about it." She paused, cocking her head to the side and looking at him with the question clear. "Why are you here?"

The office. The false story that they built for their cover now as close to reality as they needed. They reordered the structure of one of their business branches to reflect the story they needed going so far in making sure that the act was perfect.

"Don't tell me you were able to tell Alexandre was going to call? Because I would appreciate the heads up."

"No. We might have the technology, but I don't have the time to constantly monitor it." He stepped back to the hallway and motioned for her to come with him. She blinked, furrowed her eyebrows a bit and scrunched her nose. If he was getting this right, Pevensie's truths could be found far from her lips. "Also, I think you can handle yourself well enough for that."

"Careful Wizard." She stepped out the room. "You make it sound like you're trusting me."

"Holding your hand through this would be an insult to both of us." Merlin rolled his eyes at her nickname of him. "I came here looking for you."

"I'm flattered." She fluttered her lashes at him and went so far as to place her hand against her bosom.

It was hard to keep his face unamused, because she looked like she was having fun.

Instead, he stared her down until she chuckled. Then, turned to lead her away.

"He implied a surprise." She restarted the conversation a few steps into their trek.

"The one Ursa asked to be something thoughtful?"

She nodded.

Her thoughts consumed her then, and he in turn let himself be consumed by his own. Thoughts that revolved around what she could possibly mean and the knowledge that she would share it willingly. If he would tell her that he knew what she was implying. If he would tell her that she wasn't alone in such thoughts. If he would even imply that everyone in the Kingsman had their eyes on her, both in anticipation and suspicion.

And that the Kingsman was prepared, for whichever end this might go.

"How low can you go?"

It was his turn to blink. It was his turn to pause. Pause enough to halt walking and stare at her. She took a few more steps before turning a bit to face him.

Her eyes.

Shards of ice.

The weight of those words was only amplified by the vagueness of her delivery.

"For the sake of everyone's prosperity, safety and peace, how low can you go?" She waited for another moment. His mind tried to figure out how his response to this would affect the course of their future. There's blood on his hands already. He had destroyed plenty of lives. He had met almost every type of criminal and had brought them to their own brand of justice. What more was she asking? Was she asking the low that he could only imagine? "Are you willing to fight for the world's humanity even if it requires surrendering your own?"

Her eyes. Those shards of ice told him too much to the point that he couldn't figure it out.

"Yes."

Susan didn't dwell long with her question or with his answer and everything else surrounding it. A few breaths after that exchange, she smiled and started asking advice on how to proceed with the new situation before them. As if that moment didn't happen.

She saw the confusion and suspicion in his gaze when she didn't explain anything. But he didn't ask any questions or even commented on it. She knew it bothered him and that he wanted nothing more than to piece her apart to figure her out. Her secrets. Her stories. Her loyalty. Her truths. She knew that one of the only things stopping him was his curiosity.

Instead she plowed on, talking about everything else.

She knew. She knew it well, because she was the same. Not to the specifics, but she was intimate with curiosity's hold and power.

She was a Pevensie, after all.

"For Pete's sake, dinnae even dare." It was also adorable how his accent shows up more when he's annoyed or just feeling an emotion strong enough to drop his formalities. It's not often, but she started taking it as little victories when she broke his composure. "I dinnae need another bairn to take care of. Also, ye're the self-proclaimed Nanna, ain't ye?"

Also, the fact that he would meet her head on during these moments, unless something stops and distracts him, was another source of her delight. It was better than his distance. Of which she understood. It was better than his walls. Of which she had the same. Even more dangerous, if she was to believe old friends that breathed abreast her.

But.

"Merlin. It's just a reminder that even a man such as he shouldn't be disappointing a woman." She grinned as she tried to ignore the implications of where he was leading her. Before her training, she filled her time with exploring the mansion and she might not be familiar with this wing, but she knew what laid here. "Also, the Fashion Department already volunteered their assistance. They're ever so kind."

"One mission and ye already became their doll." It was supposed to be an insult and it sounded like it, but his eyes didn't align with it. He was proud of the Kingsman and being part of it. "Of all the departments to endear yerself to. If I ken ye better, I'd say ye're just excited to dress up."

She shrugged. "I'm a selfish woman, Merlin. That's the second you must know about me. The third would be that paired with that selfishness is greed. So who am I to deny such finery?"

He stared at her, dissecting such statements. She took her time then to look around once more.

The living quarters of the mansion. Of all places to lead her, it was here. She wanted to ask why, but it was the same curiosity that stopped her. Opting to wait and see, because it was more enjoyable to wonder the possibilities and witness which would be true.

"And the first?"

"Hm?" She was already counting through three levels of possibilities. His expression halted those thoughts and turned it to the possibilities linked to him. She smiled. "Susan always lies."

"Finally!"

She wasn't even given the chance to see his reaction. Merlin's eyes shifted and then everything was gone. "Harvey. You were supposed to wait with the others."

"You were taking too long." Even his accent came to the minimum.

Curious day. Curious day.

"Phone call. Not that important at the moment." She waved of, because at this point this was the curiosity that was most accessible. "Where to?"

"Ah." Harvey pulled out a blindfold from his coat pocket. "This is required."

"Truly?" She stared at Harvey and then turned to Merlin, who sighed and just cocked his head back to the blindfold.

A great part of Susan knew that this was a surprise. A good one. A small part of her though, clawed and hissed. What if? They didn't trust her, but she was sure they wouldn't hurt her. Yet. Yet.

"Am I in trouble?"

"Trouble?" Harvey's expression shifted as smooth as she expected. It's hard to discern which was sincere and not with their lot. "Not that I know of. Merlin?"

There were many ways to hurt.

"No. You don't have to wear the blindfold, but Harry requested that you close your eyes at least."

"Of course." She turned to Harvey. "Would you do the honors?"

There were many ways to deal with hurt.

She closed her eyes and waited, stretching her other senses to still be aware of everything else. Harvey before her. Merlin to her left. It was a few beats later that Harvey moved close and did the blindfold.

"Too tight?"

She opened her eyes to test the blindfold and was impressed that it was dark enough. She closed her eyes once more. "Not at all. You didn't snag my hair too. Amazing."

"You wound me. I know my way around blindfolds."

"Ah, yes. I know what you mean. Do you enjoy wearing one or making others wear it?"

"The latter."

She grinned wide. "I prefer the former more. Though I don't mind the latter. It's always a delight to be a witness and a giver."

"I'm afraid I won't be leading you to bed though." He chuckled and moved to her right, guiding her arm and wrapping it around his. "But we must share ideas later."

"Yes, please."

Merlin cleared his throat and moved past her to lead. Even without her sight, she knew he wasn't amused.

Harvey chuckled, patted her hand and started forward. The air around him smug.

The rest of the walk was shorter and straightforward. At some point, she heard a door open and then click close once they passed through. A few more steps further into the room, then stop.

Stop.

Harvey gave her another pat, then stepped away. Merlin moved from the door to somewhere to her southwest. There was also someone else in the room, moving closer from her northwest.

"Harry." She gave a nod, tilting her head up a bit in approximation.

"Glad that you finally joined us."

"I'm not really sure what I'm joining in yet." She motioned to the blindfold. "May I?"

"Please."

What welcomed her was what she expected. Living quarters, larger than her current guest room. It looked well-maintained and arranged. Care shown in the choice of colors and how the furniture fit the style. They stood in what was most likely the receiving room, and it felt like one. A place for tea parties and just entertaining a friend or a guest.

Then she noticed the stack of boxes by a wall and some smaller ones on the chairs. Gifts?

She shifted and turned, only to stop halfway.

One of Lucy's grand paintings adorned one of the walls.

That of the busy port.

A port.

One that trapped the breath inside her and made her mind replay memories not only in succession, but side by side. It didn't even allow her to exhale. Not only because of the crowd in that painting.

Splendour Hyaline and the Dawn Treader were the centerpiece. In all its glory.

The Swan. The Dragon.

She whirled around, scanning the room for more of Lucy's works. She had long realized what this was for. This room. This event. Suddenly, those boxes. At this very moment, it didn't matter. What mattered were those paintings and everything else that wasn't hers, but ever dear, that could be in these quarters. Each of them she knew by heart and etched in her memory. Each of the painting made not only for Lucy's own memory and stories, but to show it to Susan in an attempt to connect. An attempt to get back a part of the sister she lost. An attempt to find a common ground to still be sisters. Which they found in some way. However, in the end, it was too late for Susan to let herself be pulled by Lucy's yearning grip, even for just a little bit. For a little sacrifice. Instead, all she could do was to memorize each of what she left behind through tears while sitting on the floor of her empty flat.

She did the same with everything else. Everything she could get her hands on. Even when it hurt, turned her inside out, and drowned her in memories, truths, fears, and anger that she had locked for forever.

She should've expected this. They did mention that the Kingsman salvaged everything they could from her flat.

But.

"The rest of the paintings are under Facility's care." Harry's voice broke through her speeding thoughts, but he didn't give them pause until he stepped into her line of vision. He looked at the painting for a moment, then met her gaze with a comforting smile. "We thought that it's time you have a more permanent space. You're far from a guest, after all. Maybe at some point, you'll be able to call this home."

She had to grit her teeth to stop the outpour of questions.

"And, yes. It's a team decision and effort." Harvey commented with clear confidence and pride. He motioned around the room. "What do you think?"

She took a deep breath and chuckled, stalling time to get a grasp of her patience and control. "I like it. It's warm."

"I am the best in interior design so I took it to myself to rearrange everything to something you would be comfortable in."

"The best? Are you sure we don't have a department for this?" It was easy to tease, to focus and cling to something amusing and follow its trail.

"Excuse me?! When I said I am the best, I mean it against everyone in this mansion even the Department for Interior Design. If we have one, which we don't." He huffed and pursed his lips for a moment. "Anyone that tells you otherwise is lying."

"Like who?"

"Like Gillian."

She blinked. "Tristan? Did I get it right?"

"Yes, and she'll be coming back soon, so I'm giving you a heads up." He pointed at the doors. "That door is to your bedroom, where your bath and closet are too. While this door here, is to one of our largest balconies. That one wasn't my idea."

She peeked around Harvey. "You spoil me. My thanks, Harry."

Harry tilted his head to the side. She followed the direction and found Merlin looking at Lucy's painting. "It's a team effort."

Oh.

Merlin felt the gaze and turned. "As before, there's a list of everything we brought out from storage in one of the boxes. There's also another list of the rest of everything under your name that we have. As before, you can choose which you wish to keep or take out of, and those you wish to return."

She smiled. "Thank you, Merlin."

"We might be able to continue the tour in a few."

The moment he finished that line, the door opened and in stumbled Eggsy. Roxy pushed him to the side, strutting in and sweeping a look around.

She then deadpanned at Harvey, who smirked in return. "Good. You actually waited for us. What's in the bedroom was my idea and I will be pissed if I miss your reaction."

Susan stared at the bags Eggsy brought in. "What happened?"

Eggsy beamed. "We went shopping for room warming gifts."

"He went shopping. I was dragged unwillingly. That's different."

"Agree to disagree." He shrugged. "They're just a couple of consoles and games. If you need help and playmates, feel free to holler for your resident gamer. Me."

"Thank you, my dearests. I surely don't deserve this much."

Roxy and Eggsy looked at each other, then looked at her, and in unison spoke, "Nonsense."

Harvey guided her to the bedroom door, the rest following closely. Roxy and Eggsy's excitement was loud with an undercurrent of anxiety, and it made her nervous.

What more could they show her?

The painting kicked her breathing out the window, and it still pained her to continue breathing. Paintings. Journals. Sketches. Letters. She could list all the possible belongings that were in this room with her, and each of them stabbed her insides. Belongings that she kept in her flat because she couldn't let them go. What more? And was she ready for such more?

"Should I close my eyes again?" She asked to prepare herself. To stall. To gather information. To pick a more accurate possibility. "I promise not to peek."

"No need." Roxy motioned to the door. She gave her an encouraging smile. "Go on. I hope you'll like it."

They didn't even open the door for her. All the responsibility and choice in her hands. Would it be another painting? Or something more? Maybe from her parents? Something of Peter's? Or Edmund's?

She took a deep breath and opened the door.

The mystery and her nervousness eclipsed the beauty that laid before her. It looked comfortable and as homey as the receiving room. Of calm colors. It was elegant, but it didn't sink in. Instead, she marched in, searching. She needed to know what more they could show her.

"Impossible."

It echoed. It echoed loud and brought with it every instance she uttered the word. Up to the most important one. Of cold and white. Of wonder and impossibility. Of a memory that made her want to weep in happiness and rage in grief.

Of the very same wardrobe standing before her.

The very same.

This time there was no pause of silence.

"How?" It started as a whisper to herself. Her mouth too slow compared to the speed of her brain that had clung to another question entirely. Why? A question she knew wouldn't be answered or even be understood to her satisfaction by the people around her. This question wasn't for them. She approached. Her hands reached out. Her touch already remembering and knowing the texture and engravings she would no doubt trace before they even achieved contact.

How many nights had she stared at its façade? With questions she couldn't ask out loud because no one held the answer. How many times had she climbed in? How many hours had she sat in its darkness with her head against her sibling's shoulder? Against the wood? Curled up with grief, while whispering what ifs, memories and fears.

Oh. How many secrets it did keep in the end.

"How?" She asked again, louder, while her eyes were still glued to the wardrobe. She sought the answers to this question. Because this was easier to ask. Because this was easier to understand. Because maybe the answer would satisfy her. "How did you get this? The Professor's house. What happened when I disappeared?"

"The Kingsman purchased it. The house itself underwent plenty of renovations and is now one of our safehouses in the area." As she expected, it was Harry that answered her. "It's far from the original house, but most of the floor plans stayed the same. It actually explained why you have a few full sets of medieval armors under your name."

"And a few Greek and Roman busts as well." She couldn't help but mention. "I was to arrange the matters of the house, but I disappeared."

"We gathered."

"I couldn't live there." For more reasons than she could and would ever allow herself to admit. "It's too much for me to maintain and I was planning to donate some pieces."

"The Kingsman only owns the house."

That made her turn a bit, her eyes wide.

"Yes. Exactly." This knowledge was Harry's gift and the realization floored her.

"And you never even checked or did anything about it? For years?"

It was Merlin that answered those questions. "It's checked and things were done to it. The maintained and taken care of kind."

Susan took a deep breath, lungs aching and deeming such breath not enough. The silence that followed stretched as she rested her forehead against the wood. She needed to sift through the whirlwind of emotions she felt. All that it could mean.

This world in time may have heroes, gods, and knights, but it lacks a Narnian when it will direly need one.

She walked away from Narnia as it no longer needed her. She let its song fade away and never sought the Lion in this world, even when she knew who He was. Instead, she sought her place in this world that she was sure needed her. A place that would never stop needing her.

Edmund understood, but didn't know how to help. Peter tried to understand and tried to support her. Lucy did her best in keeping her in between. However, they couldn't fathom why she surrendered. Why she went that far. Now here's the wardrobe and she could feel the magic, faint as it was, pulse.

She pulled back and gripped the handles. Just a peek. Whatever was within, it would guide the path she would take. It would cement a decision.

Then, it's in for a penny, in for a pound.

She pulled, just enough for her to see what's inside.

Wood. Leather. Red. Gold. Ivory.

She slammed the doors closed and opted to rest her forehead against it once more. All she wanted at this very moment was to curl up and weep until she laughed.

Aslan called her Queen, still. He called her Narnian, still.

In for a penny, in for a pound.

In return, I believe a Queen would need heroes, gods, and knights, would she not?

"Su? Is it bad?" Roxy broke the silence, worried and unsure.

Susan shook her head and stepped away from the wardrobe. She approached Roxy and engulfed her in a hug. "Thank you. Thank you so much."

"Uh…You're welcome."

She squeezed Roxy and chuckled, her lungs no longer painful.

"I want a hug for my gifts too." So, Eggsy got one. Harvey requested for a kiss on the cheek, which she was more than happy to give.

"How long do you think it would take for you to move from the guest room?" Harry started the moment she let go of Harvey.

"I might be able to do it tonight. Once I got over all the-"

"Feels." Eggsy quipped, making her dissolve in laughter.

"Yes, Eggsy. The feels. Thank-"

Her phone rang. The beeping ringtone already distinguished that it wasn't from one of her new friends. Her first thought was that of a wish that it wasn't Alexandre. Susan gave them an apologetic smile, pulling out the phone and praying still that it's not Alexandre. Eggsy shrugged and mouthed a goodbye for the time being. She nodded and mouthed it back to them.

She watched as they filed out the room. Merlin, on the other hand, paused and gave her a show of looking carefully on his cliptab and smirking. "It's not Alexandre."

Susan smiled in relief, answering the call.

Ursa's body relaxed, and her thoughts turned to warm fondness and excitement to the light-hearted voice she would surely hear. "Klaus. Are you calling because you're informed belatedly? Or for something else entirely?"

"Both, but more on the latter, Mäuschen."

"Did something happen?"

"No. I'm here to applaud you for actually making Lucien guilty and distracted from something." It sounded like he was in a gathering at the moment, music and talks in the background. "How do you even do it?"

"…I don't really know."

Ursa had a clue. Susan knew.

"Are you fine with this? It was Lucien that promised to come to visit." Ursa pressed her lips together during the pause. "How did he make you agree? I'm alright and I don't mind waiting. We're all business people and you're more likely to be busier than Lucien and I combined."

Klaus was a more hands-on business owner compared to Lucien, and it was something that Ursa delighted upon. She was similar in idea, but not in delivery. It was because of such that she enjoyed comparing their thought processes when faced with similar situations and triggers.

Susan liked Klaus because of the glint in his eyes and the cadence of his voice. It was familiar, in a kindred souls amid strangers kind of way.

"Well, it's time for the two of us to meet without the kid hovering close, don't you think?"

"Is he hovering around right now?"

"Nein."

Susan wondered if there would come a time that Klaus would completely fall outside the branches of possibility that she'd set down. Or, maybe at the very least would choose one of the most unlikely possibilities she'd entertained. A cycling thought that came with the hope of being surprised and challenged.

"Did he really try to siphon our conversations from you?"

"I don't know what you did, but he's pretty smitten."

"I doubt."

"He's introduced you to everyone he could with me as one of your references. So, you can imagine how many times I've mentioned your loveliness."

"Just lovely? Are you doing it again in that party you're in?"

"Yes, not as important as the one Lucien hosted, but your reputation precedes you now. Also, you like it. Don't deny."

It was Susan that chuckled, taking another sweeping look at the now empty room. "Oh, I do. I really do."

"I am looking forward to seeing you again." Ursa said with every ounce of sincerity.

"As am I, Mäuschen. I have plenty to tell that the kid doesn't need to hear."

"Oh?" She straightened at the weight of those words. "Now I'm intrigued."

"And I expect that you're going to ask the right questions."

"And may you give me fulfilling and interesting answers."

"Only if you understand."

Ursa took a deep breath. A promise. "I will do my best."

"See you in two weeks."

She was excited at the prospect of having something to look forward to, and it showed with how she said her goodbyes.

Susan, on the other hand, was adjusting the possibilities and plans she'd lain, producing more and eliminating the now unlikely. Changes were made to the plans she never told anyone too. Those that made sure she always had the upper hand in at the very least, one aspect of everything. She sifted through her memories, analyzing patterns that repeated through her lifetimes from the most recent to the oldest past.

Oldest past. Of Narnia and her Network.

Narnia was still singing and she could now hear it once more.