Threads
Chapter 6
Eirene woke up to a stinging pain on her right temple. She began feeling nauseated as her head throbbed. Still with her eyes closed, she took a deep breath. It was as if her head had its own heartbeat and each pulsation blinded her with pain.
She knitted her brows as she braced for even more pain. It took her some minutes to decide to open her eyes. When she finally did, she winced and groaned. The light was blatant, and it was difficult to recognize the figures around her. She strained her eyes as best she could.
Eirene eventually recognized her chambers. Two people stood close to her bedside. She turned to them and saw Garsea, the royal physician. He stood at the back of the room while an unfamiliar woman tended to her wounds. When Eirene moved, they all stood still, watching her.
"Well, there's no denying she's awake now," Garsea said, "we must inform the lord protector."
Eirene looked intently at the physician, but he was scribbling something on a piece of parchment. He carried on and never turned to look at Eirene. Inwardly offended, Eirene turned and faced the young woman. The nurse was already looking at Eirene, but she looked afraid. She looked away immediately and staggered backwards. The nurse turned towards the door.
"I'm sorry, your Grace, I must— I must leave now, I never should have-" the nurse mumbled hurriedly.
"Wait," Eirene said desperately, her voice coarse, "what happened to me? Why am I here?"
The nurse turned back, but said nothing. Eirene turned her head to the window. She wasn't sure how much time had passed. She moved her limbs trying to stand up, but stopped when she felt another wave of pain that dragged her down. It was then that she realized her wrists were heavy. She turned her eyes to her arms, and saw she was shackled.
"Tell me," she begged, returning her eyes to the people in her room, "please. Tell me what happened-why am I here? Where is… where is he?"
The young woman looked befuddled and stayed silent. Garsea stopped his scribbling and met Eirene's gaze with an arched eyebrow.
"Who is 'he', my lady?" he asked with curiosity laced with malice. Eirene was too confused to notice it and spat the truth.
"The man I was with, dark haired—Edmund, Edmund was his name."
The physician scoffed and turned around. The young lady mimicked him. Eirene rose up to her elbows and reached for the nurse's wrist.
"Please, tell me—what happened?"
The young woman's eyes were wide, and her mouth opened. She began mumbling incomprehensible words.
"Hush, Sans, we must leave. The princess shows early signs of dementia," the doctor said, absentmindedly.
"Early signs of dementia?! He was there with me-I demand to know where he is," Eirene said, trying to stand up.
"Please remain in bed, princess. We must notify his grace. We'll know what to do then," Garsea said.
When Eirene finally found the strength to stand, they'd already slammed the door. She tried to open it, but it was futile. Eirene banged her fists against it.
"You cannot keep me here! Open the door—you've no right!" she shouted and banged her fists again and again.
She screamed until her throat felt about to bleed. Air faltered and she felt as if her world was crumbling down. She slid down to the floor with her back against the door. She remained quiet, feeling a hollow space creating itself inside her chest.
Eirene swallowed. She was princess of Narnia. She'd devoted her life to honor the crown, her father's legacy and his brother's memory. She'd done everything right, followed every rule, all protocol. Her life had been dictated by traditions that she never even questioned...and yet, they'd unlawfully confined her to her chamber.
The burning sensation at her temple returned and she gasped. Her shackles tinkled as she drew two trembling fingers to it, and felt a small bump. She closed her eyes and tried her best to recall what had happened. The soldiers that ambushed her had covered their faces, but she'd recognized some of them. Some patrolled the outskirts of the city. Others were the castle guards. But the one she immediately recognized was General Glozelle.
Glozelle had been her father's favorite military advisor, and had even been a friend to him. After her father's passing, Glozelle personally trained Eirene in sword fighting. All of which, of course, was done without her uncle Miraz's knowledge. Glozelle had always been apparently on her side- and Eirene didn't know what had changed. Perhaps Miraz had filled his mind with ridiculous ideas. Perhaps he'd had a change of heart. Or perhaps he'd never been a true friend. It made her wonder if the rest of the court that supported her had changed allegiance, too.
Perhaps, Eirene thought, this was Miraz's first attempt to make her fall from grace. To pave the way for his son who was getting older, to make him heir. For a fleeting moment, Eirene feared for her life. She feared that her uncle would murder her, and that she'd never have the opportunity to find Caspian, to bring him back home.
Eirene promised to herself then and there that she wouldn't let that happen. She'd first wage war against all of what she'd ever known before letting her uncle get his way. She was willing to use everything and anything to help her. A Narnian and Telmarine army. The Kings and Queens of Old by her side. Mercenaries, even. Anything that could stop Miraz, she would use. She needed to keep her father's dynasty alive. No matter the cost.
Eirene looked across her room to the curtained window. It was dusk and the sun was just setting beyond the horizon. When night fell, the shadows brought the echoes of the bells. Her skull felt about to implode. She shut her eyes and twinkles colored the darkness inside her head. The twinkles brought flashes of memories with them. They shaped themselves into pictures of Cair Paravel, into pictures of a single striking pair of dark eyes. Eyes that fit under a populated but arched brow, and under a set of curly and disheveled hair. Edmund Pevensie.
She'd asked the nurse where he was out of instinct, because he was part of her last waking memory. Perhaps he was a prisoner too, or maybe he had escaped. She hoped for the latter. But as she thought more about his fate, she found herself feeling something other than mere curiosity. He was alluring in every sense, and even now that they were apart, she couldn't seem to get rid of his magnetism.
Eirene opened her eyes, her thoughts caught her off guard. She stood up, shaking them off. She coiled herself around a blanket, taken from her unmade bed. She sat in front of a dying fireplace, wrapped around the slow waves of smoke. It was silent. No one was outside her door. Not her ladies, not the guards, no one.
Eirene used the time to think. And think she did-about her friends at court, about the council of the lords. About her mission to save Narnia and to find Caspian. But it didn't matter what she had inside her mind, Edmund always slipped through.
Edmund had been confused at her motivations in pursuing the crown. Eirene suspected that he didn't exactly agree with the foundations of her mission. But what surprised her the most was that she didn't really care. She still wanted him as an ally, to have his counsel. She wanted to know his mind, and strangely, she wanted to let him know hers.
Dawn caught her off guard. As the brazen sun rose on the horizon, she heard the door bolt open. She stood and squinted her eyes to make up for the light.
"Princess Eirene, you have been requested by the Lord protector Miraz at the Council of the Lords. Please come with us," a guard said.
Eirene did not resist, and walked towards the Throne Hall. There was a whole company of men behind her, fully armored. She walked in silence, her mind lost in pointless wanderings. She remembered the last time she'd walked those halls with Caspian. She remembered Cornelius's words too, "they'll never harm you", he'd said. She begged to Aslan he'd be right.
When they finally reached the doors to the council, it came almost as a surprise to her. Miraz stood in front of the monarch's throne, a long, blue cape draping behind him. His son stood beside him, with some sort of innocent smugness hiding in his childish face.
Eirene settled her eyes on them and grimaced. Her uncle pulled a stringent smile. The guards left her in the middle of the room, still with the shackles on. The door closed behind, creaking all the way through.
She turned her head to see the rest of the Lords. She searched for familiar faces, her father's friends and men who had expressed fealty to her. They all turned their heads away.
Eirene scoffed. ' The tale spun by Miraz must have been excellent, then ', she thought.
After, there was only silence. Eirene stood tall, and looked at her uncle, intently.
"Why is the girl in chains?!" one of them shouted eventually, causing uproar.
Miraz looked about and let lords whisper for a while until it became too loud.
"My dear lords," Miraz shouted, circling Eirene while addressing the rest of the room, "I have fought my better judgement and not convene you here…" Miraz grabbed his face in fake frustration, and then shook his head and cleared his throat. He continued pacing, and stopped exactly next to Eirene. She refused to face him, and instead tried to make out his silhouette out of the corner of her eye.
"...but Princess Eirene," he hissed loudly and tightened his jaw, "stands here accused of treason."
Miraz' words intensified the murmurs amongst the lords, all of which were incomprehensible. Miraz tapped on his foot impatiently and walked closer to her, another smile sketching on his lips. He reveled in the chaos, but he fought hard not to let it show.
"May I know why you are charging me with such an offense? I have committed no crime," Eirene said, loud and clear, hurrying to get to the point. Miraz chuckled.
He patted her shoulder and kept on addressing the lords.
"Honorable Telmarine lords, all of you know our laws perfectly well. All of you know, as well as I do, that the line of succession is through the male members of the royal family. It is the tradition, our sacred custom."
The room echoed with aye's from the Lords. Eirene felt her heart drop. She knew the tradition perfectly well, she was willing to honor it, but only if Caspian were the king.
"And it is precisely because of that," Miraz continued, "that we have never, never, stopped searching for our beloved Prince Caspian—"
That was enough to make Eirene's blood boil. How dare he talk about her brother, how dare he make up lies. He was the first to give up on the search for the young prince, and everybody knew it. Eirene's teeth clasped together with force.
"—but it seems, my Lords, that our once honorable princess has…" Miraz paused and walked exactly in front of Eirene, "…given up on the hopes of finding her brother. You see, I know from a good source that she," he pointed a curved finger at her, "she had grand plans for herself. She is power hungry—she was a conspirator of her brother's abduction. And she has kept him away all these years."
Miraz's eyes widened as the uproar in the room began once more.
Eirene mouth dropped open. He'd gone too far.
"That is ludicrous! I did no such thing—my lords, you must—" she began quickly, but the noise was too loud for her voice to be heard.
"Silence, child. You'll speak in your own time," Miraz said, loud enough for her only. He then gestured for the rest of the lords to simmer down for a moment to proceed with his tale.
"You see, my lords, her treachery escalated over the years. Three days ago, in the honorable anniversary of our beloved Prince Caspian's disappearance, Princess Eirene arrived at this very castle, bringing an assassin with her."
The room quivered with voices, screams and endless humdrum.
"Princess Eirene intended to sneak an assassin into the castle walls! Targeting Lady Prunaprisma, my son and her own lord protector! Think about it my lords...if she was capable of this, what makes you think she couldn't have been able to do the same to her brother? Perhaps she not only conspired in his abduction, but even conspired to kill him too! And everything to seize a throne that isn't rightfully hers!"
Eirene could feel her face redden with anger, and her limbs shaking with rage. Her heart shattered, but she couldn't let herself feel it then. She couldn't hear any more of her uncle's slander, either.
"My lords!" she spat loudly, thundering the shackles purposefully. The room took a second to settle. She ran her eyes across the room, her eyebrows lowered and knitted together. She curled her lips.
"Would you believe the lies concocted by this man? Would you believe him blindly, while he presents no proof? Miraz has me in chains, defenseless! He is lying to you!"
There was more uproar. The lords started to rise from their seats, moving about, shouting at each other.
"Aye! Miraz has been after the crown for ages!" a lord screamed from within the crowd.
"It is well known!" someone else shouted.
More shifts, screams and arguments. Eirene saw the scene unfolding before her eyes with horror.
"Miraz has been the lord protector all this time! He has no reason to lie to us!" Another lord's voice perforated the commotion.
Eirene's eyes were wide and her breath grew heavier and burdensome. She turned to Miraz, his mouth sampled a smirk.
"Ah, but you see, princess. I have proof of your crimes!" her uncle said, turning his face grim once more.
The heavy wooden doors opened once again, and in came two guards holding a hooded man. Eirene's heart shrank.
"This is the man she tried to sneak within our walls! The ruthless killer!"
The guards threw the man at Eirene's feet. He landed on his side. Eirene gasped, and wanted to kneel next to him and uncover his face.
Please, don't let it be Edmund— her thoughts screamed.
Miraz knelt and jerked on the hood off the prisoner. Eirene felt her heartbeat stop and held her breath as Miraz pulled the mask away.
The face of a scrawny commoner was revealed, probably taken from the south side of the city. Eirene let out a sigh of relief, and she heard Miraz scoff. Eirene swallowed, trying to hide all emotion that wasn't the rage simmered at the core of her being.
Then, there was a loud metal clang next to her. She turned and saw Rhindon on the floor.
"And that was to be the murder weapon. Some sort of Narnian relic—" Miraz said, disgusted, "because you now see my Lords, Garsea the physician tells me that our beloved princess shows early signs of dementia."
Eirene felt as if she was about to implode.
"My lords!" Eirene said, dashing towards the lords. "You've known me since I was nothing but a child—would you think me capable of something like this?!" Eirene pleaded.
Some lords turned their faces away from her, disgusted too. Others were simply stupefied, trying to understand what was going on. But none showed a sympathetic response.
"Please! Let me explain—" Eirene's request was ignored.
"We all know the princess has always been fond of childish nonsense. That she loves the old tales of Narnia and that fictitious notion of magic. So I ask you now, honorable lords, do you think the Princess is sound of mind to hold power? Would you allow this princess to claim the throne through treason? Would you allow her delusions to instill mayhem and violence within our walls? Would you?!" Miraz roared.
The lords kept on shouting.
"No! You can't let her!"
"Treason!"
"Miraz should be king!"
"He has an heir!"
"Make him king!"
"Exile her!"
Miraz held his head high. Eirene was frozen with disbelief and fury at the same time.
"All I've ever wanted was the best for the realm!" he said, walking to the steps of the empty throne.
Eirene followed him, feeling her feet leaden. Guards went behind her, but she did not stop. A few feet away from him, a guard pulled her back by the shoulders. She craned her neck and spat on his shoes. Miraz laughed.
"Can't you see I'm in chains? What harm could I ever do to you—" she screamed, but the guards still pressed her backwards.
"Take her away—" he said to the guards, and then turned back to Eirene, "we will reconvene in a few days, when we settle a date for the Princess's trial."
"Trial! How could you—" she spat, wrestling against the guards' grip.
"Be grateful I let you keep your head you ungrateful brat," he whispered solely to Eirene. But she wasn't scared of his threat. She seethed and shouted instead.
"You'll have your own niece framed to claim the throne for yourself!? It was you who killed my father, it was you who tried to kill my brother. It was you! "
The guards unhanded her. The room fell silent and she stood heaving.
She looked at her uncle, and then she panned the room. Miraz' mouth was slightly open. He'd always considered her a child, but in that moment, he realized he was a woman, the spitting image of her father. And he had infuriated her.
"My lords. All of you served under my father. You have watched me grow up. If you are to believe for one second that my uncle is saying the truth—" Eirene struggled with her words for a second, "—he's weaved lies around me—but all you've done is stand idly by," she scanned her allied lords. They turned away again. Eirene felt like her legs were caving in— but she wouldn't, she couldn't give in. She breathed and stabilized herself.
"If some of you do believe him," her voice boomed inside the room, with a new found strength, "maybe you are no better than this cheat. You should feel ashamed to hold your seat."
Eirene spun around the room, looking the Lords in the eye, unflinching.
"Claim him your king if you will. It will be the biggest mistake you make for yourselves and for this country. So go ahead, do what you will. But the crown, the real crown, will never forget what was done today."
Eirene turned to look at her uncle again, and slowly, soft whispers resumed.
"We'll see you at the trial, princess." Miraz gestured to the guards to hold her again.
Eirene shook the guards off and instead walked away willingly. She kept her head up.
"I will find proof of what you've done Miraz, and then you shall fall," Eirene promised more to herself than him.
She knew her life depended on it. She knew the fate of the country depended on it, too. And she would be damned if she failed.