Chapter 4

1958, London

Lena's limbs felt heavy, her mind groggy. She opened her eyes but everything was blurred. And sound was muted. She didn't know where she was and it frightened her.

"Cuore?" she called weakly.

Suddenly a face appeared before her. His dark hair was unruly, his eyes were rimmed in red, dark circles forming beneath them, but his smile…oh his smile was precious. His smile meant the world to her.

"Cuore," she murmured as she returned his smile.

"I'm here," he said. He took her hand—all skin and bones that it was—and he kissed the back of it.

"Cuore, I…I didn't…I disrupted…mean to…I…"

It felt like there was something important that she had to tell him; she needed him to understand, but she couldn't get the words out. And the thought quickly faded. She was tired, so very tired. Her eyes began to flutter closed; she tried to fight it.

"It's all right, mi amore." His smile turned a little sad. He leaned forward to gently kiss her forehead and she caught a whiff of her favorite scent. "Just sleep now. I'll be right here. Sleep."

His face began to fade from view as sleep overtook her; she struggled against her last words. "Ti…amo…"

He smiled through his teary eyes and pressed his lips to her hand. "E ti amo."

1952, Sicily

Lena moaned as she rolled over in bed. The space beside her was vacant. Why was it vacant? She opened her eyes groggily. Her vision was hazy at first before it slowly came into focus and she saw him sitting at the little writing desk. Lena could really only make out his outline, but it was an outline she knew well, an outline she craved to be near.

"Did I wake you?" he asked softly.

"Yes," she replied simply. "I rolled over and you weren't there. Why aren't you there?"

"I'm sorry. I'm just finishing up some work."

"Work? Dio mio, Cuore. It's our *luna di miele."

"I know, and I'm sorry. I tried to finish this before we left, but you were just so…scintillating." His voice turned husky. "I'll finish this and then I'll be done. *Promesso. Now, just go back to sleep."

Lena bit her lip and shook her head. "Not until you come back to bed with me."

She could hear his head waging war with his heart. "Soon, mi amore. Just sleep now."

Lena pushed herself up the bed and the sheets fell down her leg. With a little twist, the thin strap of her silk chemise slid down her shoulder.

"Come to bed, Cuore, per favore. Come to bed with me."

There was a long pause, during which her hand slowly slid up her leg pulling the hem of her chemise with it. Though she couldn't see his eyes in the dark, Lena knew they were watching her every move intently. Then he cursed lightly under his breath before leaving the desk in a hurry and crawling up the bed to her.

1948, France

Lena sensed rather than heard someone approaching from behind. Instinctively she reached for the six-inch protection plan she had against too handsy guys. Then she looked up in her mirror.

"Not you again," she said, turning around to face him. "How the hell did you even get back here?"

"William owed me a favor," the Little King said.

"Well, now he's a dead favor."

His eyes dropped to the knife Lena still clutched in her hand. "Do you even know how to use that?"

"It's not like it's that hard." Lena wasn't about to admit to him that she'd never actually had to use it before; usually just flashing it worked wonders on drunken men.

"It's quite easy to harm yourself with it as well, easier in fact, especially if you're holding it wrong… Which you are. I could show you how to use it properly…if you'd like."

"Come a step closer and I'll show you how properly I can use it."

He held up his hands in surrender, a small smirk on his face, and took a step back.

"Look, I… I think you might have taken our last encounters the wrong way," he said.

"Oh? And how is stalking and breaking a man's nose supposed to be taken the right way?"

"I'm not stalking you and the *salaud deserved worse."

"Really? You're not stalking me?" Lena couldn't contradict the latter part of his statement. "Finding me once, that's luck. A second time, coincidence. But a third time, stalking."

"If you're trying to hide you're not doing a very good job of it. You sing in the same jazz bar every night, quite well I might add. That's why I'm here actually."

"No. That's why you're leaving…now, or I'll scream bloody murder."

"Wait! Please, Lena…just hear me out."

"What…what did you call me?"

"Uh—Lena? It's a nickname."

"I know what a nickname is, Little King." His familiar use of the nickname, however, caused her pause. There was something about the way he said it that seemed so intimate, and it puzzled her.

"Right." He grinned. "Just… Just give me thirty minutes, please, to tell you about an opportunity I have for you, a proposition that could very well change your life forever. Hear me out and I give you my solemn vow that you will never see me again unless you choose to do so."

"I hear what you have to say and you promise to leave me alone and never return?"

He hesitated for only a second. "I swear it upon my honor."

There was that word again. Honor. She really did hate that word. Still, Lena had to consider his offer. It would be nice to be rid of him; the Little King had become an annoyance of late.

"You have twenty," she said, grabbing her pack of Woodbines and heading to the couch. "I'm due back on stage in thirty."

Narnia

Susan and Peter could not fully agree on Lena's story and decided that Edmund's opinion must first be considered. And until his thoughts could be formulated, Lena and her daughters were assigned two guards, one for Lena and one for her daughters, to keep watch on their goings around the castle; they were not granted full access but were seen as honored as guests.

Lena's unease around the Narnians did not abate as easily or as quickly as one might hope. She did find, however, that she could get on well enough with the Talking Beasts, the Wolves, the Birds, the great Cats to a certain extent. But her skin prickled whenever one of the other Narnians was nearby.

Lena had been in Narnia for nearly a week when the party from Archenland returned late in the evening to much pomp and circumstance. Lena managed to avoid King Edmund that first evening and for most of the next day, as did the girls, but she knew that wouldn't last. And the anticipation of when that meeting would inevitably happen was driving her mad.

About the only positive thing that had come from their week in Narnia was that Lena now looked more like her true self and not Death's Bride. Color had come back to her skin. The deep, dark circles beneath her eyes filled in. Her muscles remembered their strength and she was able to run, sing, and train again.

In fact, she and Meri were in the training yard running a few drills when the inevitable happened. Bea, the Hound assigned as Lena's guard, perked her ears up and sniffed the air.

"King Edmund and Nalsa approach."

"What?! Babbo's…OW!" Meri exclaimed when Lena rapped her arm.

"Never let your attention stray," she warned. Then she looked around, hoping to find a way out without running into him. But…

"The only way out is the way in," Bea said, what Lena feared.

"Merda," she muttered.

"Mamma!"

"That word is not to be repeated, ever," Lena warned her. Meri rolled her eyes but before Lena could scold her about it, King Edmund and his Wolf arrived.

For a moment there was nothing the three of them could do but stare. He looked exactly the same…almost. He wore his hair the same way. He had the same facial structure, the same physique. Of course, he wasn't wearing the same shirt and tie combo that Lena loved to peel off of him, but rather he wore the garments more befitting a King of Narnia—incidentally, Lena found she would like to peel that off of him as well. Perhaps the biggest difference, however, was his eyes. They were the same shape, size, and color but…they lacked the love he held for her.

"Merda," Meri whispered. Then she gasped and slapped her hand over her mouth. "Mamma, I'm sorry; I…"

Lena gently placed a hand on Meri's arm. "Go get your sister from her nap and start her music lesson. I'll join you shortly."

Meri looked between Lena and King Edmund. "Mamma, I can stay if you like."

"*Andrà tutto bene."

"Are you sure?"

Lena nodded. "Go. *Devo farlo da solo."

Meri hesitated before throwing her arms around Lena's neck. "*Ti amo, Mamma."

"Ti ammo, Topa. Now go, please."

Meri walked slowly towards King Edmund; the closer she got the slower she walked. Lena knew she was studying his face, looking for any sign of recognition that Lena knew wouldn't be there. Meri dropped into a sloppy curtsy. He bowed back and stepped aside, allowing her to pass. When she looked back over her shoulder, Lena could see the tear run down her cheek.

1952, London

Lena leaned against the wall behind her. She knew it was wrong to listen in on their conversation, but she knew he knew she was listening.

"Today is a very special day, do you know why?" he asked.

"Because you and Mamma are marrying each other?" Meri replied.

"Yes, we are." Lena could hear the smile in his voice and it made her smile. "But today isn't just about the two of us; it's about you as well."

"I'm not getting married today."

"No. No, you're not, hopefully, you won't for many years yet; your Mamma and I aren't ready for that. No, today is the day that the three of us officially become a family."

"You mean four of us. There's a baby inside Mamma. I heard you talking about it."

Lena pinched her eyes shut. Meri wasn't supposed to know about the baby yet; Lena hadn't figured out how to tell her. Lena would have seized up if Meri had said that to her, but he didn't miss a beat.

"Yes, there is. You're very smart, you know."

"I know."

He laughed before continuing. "One day, your little sister—"

"—or brother," Meri corrected him.

"Orrr brother," he conceded, "will join this family of ours that we start today. How do you feel about that?"

"I don' know." Lena could hear Meri's dress crinkle as she shrugged her shoulders. "How do you feel 'bout it?"

"Me? Well, it makes me extremely happy."

"Does it make Mamma happy?"

"I would never presume to speak for your Mamma," he said quickly. Yes. He definitely knew Lena was listening in. "She has a voice of her own. But I like to think that it makes her extremely happy as well."

"Then I'm streamly happy!" Meri exclaimed.

"I was really hoping you'd say that. Would you like to know something else that would make me extremely happy?" he asked

Meri nodded rather than verbally responded.

"You only have to do this if you want to, but I'd really like it if you'd call me Babbo."

"That's what Caterina calls her Papà! Do…" she gasped. "Do you want to be my Papà?"

Lena could hear the thick emotion in his voice as he responded, and it brought tears to her eyes too. "Very much so, Merina."

Narnia

Lena turned away from King Edmund so he wouldn't see her own tear escape. Even so, she could feel his eyes watching her as she returned her and Meri's swords to the hold. By the silence alone Lena knew that Peter and Susan had already told him of who she was—as they'd said they'd do. They thought the news would be more easily received from them. Lena also knew that Susan had told him that she believed her and why. And Lena knew he doubted it anyway.

"It is impolite to stare," she said, back still facing him.

"It is impolite to presume to know me," he replied.

There's wasn't an apology there. Good. Because Lena wasn't going to apologize either.

"I don't presume to know anything," she said looking over her shoulder at him. He was tense, as was the Wolf with him. Lena knew the improbability of them was weighing heavily on him, and she knew it wouldn't be resolved in a day…no matter how hard she wished for it.

"You are confronted with a puzzle you cannot work out," she said as she eyed a row of polearms. "And you think best when you're not thinking at all."

An idea came to her. She picked up a simple practice arm. It was lightweight, well balanced; it felt natural in her hand. She picked up another, slightly bigger. This one was heavier; it was a better weight for King Edmund.

"I have a proposition for you," she said, smiling at the irony. She tossed him the heavier polearm, and he caught it easily. "We duel. Every successful hit you land, you get a question to which I will answer honestly. The game is over when you run out of questions, or when I get five hits."

"Peter and Susan already told me everything. Why would I need to ask you for more information?"

"Because, for the first time in a long time, you doubt them. Otherwise, you wouldn't be out here and you wouldn't have so coldly acknowledged your daughter. So what do you say, Little King? Do we have a duel?"

*Translations

Luna di miele: honeymoon

Promesso: I promise

Salaud: pig/swine (French)

Andrà tutto bene: I'll be fine

Devo farlo da solo: I must do this alone

Ti amo: I love you