Chapter One
The sight of the Narnian coastline should have brought a smile to Claudette's lips. After all, the journey to reach this place had taken the better half of two weeks from the time she departed from her own palace in the Archenlandian city of Orion. Instead, all she could feel was bitter. Bitter, because she should have been home, not here, in this wild, foreign land; bitter, because if these new-found kings and queens hadn't gotten involved with Narnia in the first place, she wouldn't need to be here. But they had, and so she did.
A Narnian sailor called for one of her men to throw him a rope, so he could secure the ship to the dock. Typical Narnian, she thought. Putting their problems onto us. Claudette's advisor jabbed her side. Perhaps her distaste wasn't as well-masked as she had thought.
"Your Highness," Reginald, her tutor since girlhood and political advisor for this trip abroad, hissed. "With all due respect, please, at least pretend to be content."
Claudette nodded smoothly. She turned her attention to the sea at her back, vast and open and calling her to return home. She wished desperately to give in to its pull, to answer its call and fly on the wings of a seabird all the way home. Claudette turned to the sky. There were no birds to be found.
There was suddenly a great deal of commotion and excitement when at last, her great ship had been successfully tethered to the dock and a man, with a silver crown atop his head, boarded her ship. The Narnian sailors bowed. Her own turned to Claudette for direction. "You must be Prince Edmund," she greeted. She did not curtsey.
Her advisor hurried to add, "Might I present the Princess Claudette Antonia, hailing from Archenland, daughter of King Florian and Queen Madeleine."
"It's King Edmund, actually," Edmund corrected with a jovial grin. He was no longer new to such diplomatic tests. "And it is a pleasure to finally have your acquaintance." The Just King bowed.
"Well, King Edmund," Claudette curtsied, and then arose with a hint of what some might've considered a mischievous grin (something most unbecoming of a princess). "I hope my acquaintance does not disappoint."
The Just King laughed, "Surely, it won't." He offered his arm to the princess, and escorted her from the ship. Servants followed carrying her baggage. "So long as you don't make the same mistake with my brother, all will be well."
"The High King?" Claudette raised an eyebrow. "I was under the impression that he was quite agreeable. I was hoping he may consider an alliance. Is that not the case?"
"No!" Edmund said quickly. "Er, no, he is quite… agreeable. He's just very proud of his title."
She flattened her lips into a thin line, "I see." Then, with a final fleeting glance back to her ship, Claudette turned again to face the Narnian shore. She might've almost thought it pretty. The sand was white, and beyond the dunes, gave way to a lush green grassland, dotted with vibrantly colored royal tents: King Edmund's, she assumed.
Claudette allowed Edmund to give her his arm, and to escort her off the ship. The gangplank shook slightly below her feet. This would not happen on Archenlandian soil, she was sure. Perhaps it was Aslan's way of telling her to turn around. She wished dearly that she could. Instead, the princess locked her gaze on the land ahead and began to walk. One foot in front of the other, Claude, she told herself. One foot in front of the other.
Claudette continued her mantra of taking things one step at a time from the time she got into the carriage waiting on the shore, until she exited it on the Cair Paravel grounds. Admittedly, it was a lovely palace. The smell of sea salt hung in the air and swirled around the columns and marble-clad buildings dotting the grounds. The main attraction was easily the palace itself. If Claudette hadn't so much pride, perhaps she would've complimented Edmund on it. Instead. Claudette pursed her lips and said, "Well, it certainly isn't home."
The Just King chuckled. "No," he said, "I don't suppose it would be."
There was a lull in the conversation. Claude raised an eyebrow expectantly. "Well," the Just King offered his arm. "Perhaps the front hall will suit you better. My sister had it draped in your country's colors for your arrival."
"How very kind," Claude answered, genuinely pleased. It was rare for anyone other than the most prominent royal of a hosting country to make any significant effort towards diplomacy. "There are two of them, yes?" She slipped her arm into his. "Your sisters?"
Edmund nodded, "Yes. Lucy and Susan. Although it was Susan who handled those arrangements. She's very attuned to details."
"Hm," she mused. "I suppose I ought expect nothing less from the Gentle Queen. And what is it you do, when not receiving foreign princesses in your brother's place?"
Edmund gaped. They had already turned the corner into the Great Hall before he recovered, "Well, I generally attend to treaties, and the law-making, and-"
"Oh, please," Claude laughed. "I'm sure all you do is vital for your kingdom, your…?"
"Highness," a new voice interrupted from further down the hall. Claude turned to look. A man approached, with golden-swept hair and a red tunic. A sword was at his belt, and though he wore no crown, she recognised him as the High King, Peter the Magnificent. "Though, I would be addressed as 'Your Majesty'. Only one with that distinction, I'm afraid." Peter bowed, "And you must be Princess Claude. Enchanted, I'm sure."
She frowned at his misstep. In the Archenlandian, Calmorenian, and Telmarine courts, the custom was for an individual to stay bent until called to rise. Peter had not waited. Claude wondered (rightly so) if he had done so purposefully. "Then, Your Majesty," She sweeped into a low curtsey, "I must thank you for your invitation to the Court."
"Your thanks are appreciated, but unnecessary," Peter extended his hand to help her up. "My siblings and I are grateful for your company."
"My company?" She ignored his hand, and rose on her own accord. She had half a mind to step on his foot, so near to the edge of her own skirts, but reined herself in, if only barely. She couldn't help her words. "I pray you find me more valuable than a companion for your sisters. I am here on behalf of Archenland, and the Good Queen Madeleine, and expect to be treated as an equal."
Peter reeled back. His brother snorted, but hurried to cover it with a cough after the warning look Claude sent his way. "I didn't mean to offend," He said quickly. "I only meant that I had hoped we might become friends ourselves, rather than just allies."
"I hope only to find success for my country, nothing more," she snapped back as she met his gaze. A fierce determination was reflected in them, under the charcoal lining. "King Edmund," Claude called, finally breaking Peter's gaze. "If you could be so kind as to escort me to my chambers."
As Edmund walked towards the princess, the High King spoke up once again. "Actually, that is why came to find you. I regret that I was unable to escort you from your boat-
"From my ship," Claude interjected, scowling.
"Your ship," He amended. "In light of my absence, I had hoped I might escort you to your rooms once you'd arrived." He sounded sincere, but Claudette had passed the point of minding.
"No, thank you. Your brother has been more than adequate thus far in acting as the High King's envoy, and so I can only expect him to do continue to do the same," She said fiercely. "He has also been kind to me, and has treated me as his equal, something that seems almost as foreign to you as your foolishness is to me."
Edmund was finding it very difficult to keep himself from laughing, looking at the expression on Peter's face. It wasn't unlike that of a scolded child.
"Good day, Your Majesty," Claude said as she curtseyed low once again. "It has been enchanting to make your acquaintance." The Princess walked confidently away from the Narnian kings, soon hearing the Just's footsteps follow hers.
The Just King broke into a near run to catch up to her. She'd made a wrong turn coming out of the Great Hall, where she should have continued straight, she'd veered left, but he was smart enough not to correct her. Instead, he led her up the marble stairs and then back to the right.
"I can't say I've ever heard anyone speak to Pete that way," Edmund said, with a chuckle and a shake of his head. "I may need lessons."
Claude's face stayed stone cold, "It was obvious that someone needed to put him in his place, and stand up to his mouth."
Edmund ignored the stern expression she wore and grinned broadly, "My sisters are going to love you." They reached the doors to her chambers, where two guards, a large brown bear who introduced himself as Atticus, and an orange fox called Phineus, stood waiting. The bear opened the door for the King and Queen, and the fox swept her skirts to avoid the pooling of ash from the torch outside her door. Both bowed their heads in the process.
The room was stunning, and Claudette was taken aback. She was grateful anew that the High King hadn't accompanied her, as she thought his ego could do without her boosting it further. The white walls were engraved with different scenes; portraits of the young kings and queens hung proudly along the walls, and a large, prominent portrait of Aslan was hung above the mantle. There was a beautiful, dark wood vanity next to a floral canopied bed. The center of the room was filled dotted with several armchairs and sofas of the same pattern.
However, the princess' favorite part of the bedroom were the windows. On the eastward side of the room were sets of large windows overlooking the cliffs below. She was intrigued by the site; there had been no cliffs where she had docked, and bluffs were uncommon in the flat and plainal country of her birth, save for the High Peaks in the North. She wondered if they were an incidental aesthetic bonus, or if the castle had been built on its location to aide in defenses against any invaders. Peering down, Claudette knew it could an only be an act of Aslan (or else a highly skilled and familiar man) to ascend the cliff face. She assumed it would be rude to voice her curiosity.
"I hope the room is to your liking, Princess," Edmund said.
She nodded, before she removed herself from her thoughts and turned back to the Just King, "It is, thank you."
Edmund bowed, "Your luggage will be brought to your chambers before dinner. Susan and Lucy tend to put on their evening gowns, and I wasn't sure if you did the same." He reached then light the fire in the hearth. The castle, even in Spring, frequently had drafts. "Now, if you'll excuse me, I need to attend a meeting with my advisors. Some of the Ice Queen's laws remain in effect." Edmund said the name like it pained and angered him all at once, and Claudette made a note not to speak of her. He began to walk to the door, but she spoke up before he could leave.
"King Edmund, wait," She said. "I wanted to express my gratitude to you for your guidance today, and I pray I caused you no offense in the Great Hall. His Majesty is the High King and your brother, and I hope you don't mistake my distaste for a man as a distrust in you and your country."
Edmund turned to face her. He looked sympathetic when he said, "I should never have presumed to make such a judgement." He bowed once again, and then made for the door. "I'll see you for dinner. Should you need anything, your guards will be more than happy to assist."
A resounding 'yes, your highness' came from outside. Claude didn't fight the smile on her face, but noted that the walls were thin. Any private business would need to be conducted elsewhere, then. "Until then," she agreed, and then he was gone.
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