So yeah, Wednesday and Thursday we had no Wi-Fi, so I wasn't able to write those days. I've been feeling a little under the weather from an infection that I got the other day, so it's been a little rough. I promise that I will finish this story, no matter what. Just stick with me through my publishing gaps.

How about a new assignment? Have I done favorite one on one moment, yet? If not, what is your favorite one on one moment?

"You are kind, Your Majesty." A feed slave man - the one who had spoken for the other freed - said as he bowed his head in respect before Peter. "Your reputation precedes you. How can we expect to thank you for this all?"

Peter rose one hand. "No need, My Friend. It was I who feed you and put you into this situation; it would be quite unfair of me to abandon you to it."

The two had been speaking of arrangements for near an hour now, and Edmund was getting tired of all the humble exchanges of apologies and gratitude. He'd never been one for fine words or well spoken humility. He never cared if his soldiers or subjects called him 'Your Majesty' or 'Your Highness', 'Sire' or 'My Lord', 'King Edmund' or 'My Just King'. They were all just names, and he was just a person - a person who had made many mistakes, and likely deserved a crown less than the majority of those who praised him. Did they even know what they praised him for?

Edmund had given up standing long ago. His throne was a much more comfortable place to watch from than his feet were. Of course, Peter would insist to stand at all times to ensure that his guests never felt out of place. He always said that it made them more comfortable, though Edmund could never understand why.

Every once in a while, one or two of the slaves would cast Edmund a pondering glance, as if they were trying to decide if they knew him or not - which they likely did. He wished he could say that he knew them, but he never exactly took the time to get to know the other slaves. Edmund wasn't sure if he wanted to get to know anybody again, after what happened to Zebah. If he had never met Zebah, the young boy might still be alive today. He couldn't help beating himself up about it; he had been responsible.

Thoughts of Edmund's lost friend were quickly distracted when his eyes were caught by those of another. One of the slaves stared intently into him, piercing through him with her intense gaze. The woman's eyes held no question in them. She knew who he was. And Edmund was startled to find that he knew her - or at least had met her. Out of all the slaves in Judas's home, Edmund had come close to none, but he remembered, clearly, the moment he had last seen this woman.

"Are we all settled, then?" Peter's voice broke through Edmund's thoughts, and he looked away from the women, who had yet to break her stare.

The freed man smiled and nodded. "Yes, Your Majesty. I thank you for your generosity. We shall not take it lightly, I can assure you."

"I shall have one of my guards show you to the guests' quarters." Peter nodded to one of the Centaurs at the throne room doors.

According to his King's command, the Centaur nodded back and escorted the freed out of the room. The woman was forced to break contact as she was ushered out of the room, but Edmund was sure he would see her again, before too much time had passed.

Once both brothers were alone again, Peter spoke up. "That wasn't too overbearing."

Edmund groaned, sarcastically. "Maybe not for you. It was much too boring. It's times like this that make me glad that I am only the Just King."

Edmund's brother chuckled - one of the many sounds that he could never get enough of, anymore. "You didn't see any of your friends, did you?" Peter teased, lightly.

"Ha ha." Edmund mocked. "You know I don't make friends."

"Never unless you're forced to. Mum would despise herself if she knew that one of her children grew to be some lonely hermit." Peter couldn't help laughing at his own remark. Edmund, himself, had trouble keeping a smirk off his face.

"I'm not a hermit. I have you, don't I? And Susan, and Lu."

"Siblings don't count, Ed. You're hopeless."

"Whatever." Edmund grumbled, rising from his throne.

Thwap!

A stinging pain exploded in Edmund's head. He fell, knocked to the floor by some, seemingly invisible, force.

"Ed!" He could hear his brother's voice calling, but he was too stunned to answer back. Two warm hands landed on his shoulders, pulling him up, carefully, into a seated position. "Ed, can you hear me?"

"P-Pete?" Was all Edmund managed to get out.

Another thwap!