I spent the next day in bed, and everyone snickered because they thought I had enjoyed myself too much at the bacchanal. The story was an easy cover, as Peter was much the same, but it made me feel even more rotten because it was so far from the truth. Instead of nursing a hangover, I gave myself a headache from worrying too much. I didn't know what was wrong with me. Wasn't this what I was supposed to want? This was what soldiers, courtiers all joked about (although never with me or near me, because manners around the King).

I sulked and hid in the library for a good week. I only emerged because Susan was pestering me to go to court dinners and dances. Meanwhile, Peter was insufferably cheery. He even whistled while he buttered his crumpet. Probably because he had his crumpet buttered.

However, his good mood from the bacchanal soon wore off, despite the fact that women always seem to be hanging near him at every court function. If he so much as looks at a woman, she blushes and starts to giggle. I didn't realise how desirable Peter was, which is a bit stupid really. Of course women want him. He's High King. And I supposed he's good and kind and noble and all that too.

Meanwhile, I found out something interesting about myself. I had gone down to the servants' quarters to issue some orders to the arms master, and as I left the halls, I heard two of the maids whispering.

'King Edmund doesn't know how handsome he's become,' remarked one.

The other chuckled. 'Nor does he see how much the women want him.'

'If he'd open his eyes, he'd find he could have his pick.'

'He could pick me, I wouldn't mind…' And they went off in gales of laughter.

So tonight as I finished getting ready for a court dinner, I looked at myself in the mirror. Not my usual once over to make sure everything was in place—I looked properly, trying to see what the women were talking about. At first I just saw myself, nothing special. But when I examined myself more closely I began to see. Firstly, I had grown into a young man. The childishness had left my face. There was my shock of black hair and fair skin—people were always complimenting this contrast in Susan, and in this regard we were identical. Keen eyes, well-formed nose, definitive point to the chin, wryly curling lips, and although I wasn't hulking with muscle like Peter, sinewy strength was evident underneath my tunic. Perhaps I was handsome after all.

I sounded Nels out on the subject. He was a very good manservant in this regard, for he always had information. 'What is the court's opinion of my looks?' I asked as I squinted at myself with my hands on my hips.

He sniggered as he came forward with my crown. 'Your Majesty jests, surely.'

'Why would I jest?' I said, turning to him.

'I thought you knew,' he said. 'Every young woman in the court—nay, every unmarried woman in the court—and even then, some married ones—have an eye for you.'

I took the crown off the cushion and set it on my head. 'Really? I thought they were all after Peter.'

'Some are. But the agreement is that he must be admired from a distance. There's a general feeling that you might be more open to…diversions, shall we say.'

'Diversions,' I repeated.

More observations at dinner. Women did make eyes at Peter from across the room, but they found excuses to talk to me. I had been batting away these attempts at conversation with kingly diplomacy for some time, imagining they were courting my favour as a monarch. That night I understood. They wanted me. They were daring to flirt with me.

There was no youth with curling hair to chase. I could have these women or no one. Susan and Peridan were dancing together, and Susan wore an expression of pure bliss. Peter, on the other hand, stood alone, looking tense and grim. These were the options. The girl in front of me was putting her breasts very much on display. When someone brushed past her, she found an excuse to stumble into me so she could press them against me. Very obvious, but in a way it was nice to be wanted.

So I danced with her. And when the dance was over I let her draw me into an alcove where she whispered how handsome I was. She drew her lower lip into her mouth and looked at me with large eyes. It was all very obvious. But at the same time, the idea that she was panting so much over me gave me a bit of a thrill. Maybe the thing with the maenads was a fluke. So I let her kiss me.

And it did feel nice, after a fashion. The next night she wanted to do more, and as she pressed herself against me she unlaced my trousers and slipped her hand inside. That was better. No room for thought there.

We had some good fun for a couple of weeks. She knew a fair bit and was happy to show me. The problems started when she expected more.

I discovered this one day after we had sex. We were lying in bed, catching our breath. I smiled because I felt good, and there was a certain relief that came with the feeling.

She smiled too, and rolled over to lay half on top of me. I rather wished she wouldn't: I was hot and our bodies were sticky. Then she pushed the hair back off my forehead which I definitely didn't like. Maybe because that's something Susan does, and to be reminded of that then felt a bit weird.

If I frowned, she did not notice. Instead she said, 'My friends are all jealous, you know.'

I raised my brows.

'So jealous they don't believe I'm sleeping with the King.'

I exhaled through my nose. 'There might be a merit to discretion.'

'Why?' She pouted. 'We could make an appearance together. There's a ball at the end of the week.'

I wrinkled my nose.

She gasped. 'You don't want to!'

I shifted away from her. 'I mean, I just don't see the point.' On reflection, this was probably quite insensitive.

'What do you mean you don't see the point?!' She cried. 'Aren't we together?'

'We are now,' I acknowledged.

Her eyes snapped. I sensed I was in trouble. 'You know full well that's not what I meant.'

I opened my mouth but shut it again, like a fish.

She stared at me then threw the covers back. She flounced around as she got dressed, throwing me many dirty looks. I pushed myself up against the pillows, watching her.

'After all I've done to you—all I've let you do to me—and you don't care!'

I wanted to say 'Was I supposed to?' But I sensed that would not come off with the same innocence and astonishment I felt. I had never promised her anything. I rifled through my memory—I had not spoken a single word of love. In fact, we did not converse much at all. She was not particularly interesting in that regard. Yet somehow, she got the impression that there was some sort of romance blooming, and I couldn't quite figure out what the one had to do with the other.

I rubbed my mouth as I watched her. She was making quite the meal of getting dressed in the most dramatic fashion possible. This played to my advantage because it gave me a moment to think of a diplomatic approach.

'Look,' I began, 'I think we have very different ideas about what this is.'

She froze in lacing her dress and raised her eyes to me.

'I'm not looking for a partner. Truth be told, I don't really need a partner. I've got three other people to rule with. I thought we both wanted a bit of companionship. Some fun. You know.' I gestured to the rumpled sheets.

Her chin trembled. Then she let out a choked sob and rushed from the room. Clearly I had made a massive hash of things.

After that I chose my partners with more discernment and frequency. I didn't mind when they admired me. I just couldn't really find it in me to admire them back. I didn't like a lot of people.

This seemed an amenable solution until Peter called me into his office one day. I thought it was going to be about a trade agreement with Terebinthia, and I had gotten some interesting information from Lord Peridan on the question. When I entered I flopped onto the couch and started rifling through the papers I had prepared.

'You can put those away, Ed. It's not about Terebinthia.'

I lowered the papers and glanced at him, and saw that Susan was sitting quite primly in the chair beside Peter's desk. I sat up. 'What is it then?'

Peter and Susan both went red. 'It's…' Peter coughed. 'It's about your behaviour over these past weeks.'

I arched a brow at him.

'He means with the women of court,' Susan supplied.

'Oh,' I said. Then I frowned. 'Why should you care?'

Peter cleared his throat again. 'Well. It seems that there are quite a few rumours circulating about you.'

I laughed. 'Really? What do they say?'

'Oh Ed, do try to take this seriously,' Susan implored.

'I might if you told me how my private doings are the business of anyone else. Including you pair,' I said, folding my arms.

Peter looked at Susan and gestured helplessly to me. 'He's not entirely wrong.'

Susan sighed and the corners of her mouth got pinched as they do when she is losing patience. 'You are supposed to be a diplomat. Can't you see the diplomatic issue here?'

'Let's say I can't,' I replied.

'Fine,' she huffed. 'You know full well how marriage works as a diplomatic tool, how nations use marriage to strengthen alliances.'

'I do know. And I know that we decided we would never do that,' I replied. I looked to Peter, and he nodded to confirm this.

'Even so, reputation is important! How are people to trust us if you are breaking hearts all over the castle?'

'Is that what they say, that I'm breaking hearts?' I leaned back and chuckled to myself. I had never considered myself a heartbreaker; I was much more of a loner.

'Yes, and it's ruining my chances with Lord Peridan!' Susan snapped. I rolled my eyes at this, and Susan gasped with anger. Every time I talked to Lord Peridan I had the feeling that deep down, he didn't really want to play by all the rules and wouldn't give a fig about my reputation when ti came to Susan.

'The short of it is,' said Peter, cutting through the beginnings of a good quarrel, 'That we feel we ought to set out some…guidelines. As you know, I fully believe that we should not—indeed, we cannot—use ourselves as diplomatic bargaining chips. There is no negotiation. We cannot leave Narnia. But that suggests even more that we should be careful, to further emphasise our line in the sand.'

I blew the air out of my cheeks. You can never tell whether Peter's going to be totally obtuse or really quite shrewd. This was one of his shrewd moments. 'Fine,' I said. 'Let's draw up some guidelines then.'

'We need to wait for Lucy,' Peter said in rather a rush. 'She should be here too.'

'Isn't she a bit young for this sort of thing?' I said. 'I mean, she's just a kid.'

'That's what we thought about you, until these rumours reached us,' Peter said drily.

Fair point. 'What are the rumours though?'

Susan puffed up, ready to start a lecture, but Peter spoke more quickly. 'Nothing particularly terrible. Standard fare—you're breaking hearts, new lover every week, cold hearted, that sort of thing.'

'You say it like it doesn't matter,' Susan chided.

'It doesn't,' Peter said. 'And if you think Lord Peridan would throw you over because of some talk about Edmund, then he wasn't worthy of you in the first place.'

It was hard to say why all this talk of Lord Peridan asking for Susan's hand made me squirm.

At that moment, Lucy came in looking rather windblown and pink cheeked. 'You three are looking very sombre,' she declared.

'Wait till you hear what this is about,' I said, rolling my eyes at her.

Susan went red, and Peter put out a hand. 'Stop, Ed. You're just winding her up now.'

'Sorry,' I mumbled. I turned to Lucy. 'We reckon it's time to draw up some rules for…what are we calling this? Courtship? Dalliances?'

'Something in that vein,' said Peter.

Lucy considered this in the same earnest way she considers everything. 'I suppose there's some wisdom to that. I'm glad you consulted me at least.'

So we started work. If I'm honest, it was one of our better pieces of legislation, I must say, even if it was just for us to abide by. We all used our strengths and worked to hammer out something reasonable but effective. Afterwards, we referred to them as the Rules. A partial list includes:

No dalliances with foreign nobles.
Discretion at all times.
A clear understanding to be reached by all parties and their discretion ensured.
No particular favour granted to any partners in the forms of gifts, honours, etc.
Rules of discretion rendered null and void during the bacchanal (that was Peter's contribution).

Ultimately I agreed with a lot of the rules, but they did take the fun out of things for me. That and the fact that I didn't exactly relish the thought of hurting someone's feelings. So I stopped messing around with the women at court.