"Come on Alistair!" Catherine heard as she was about to turn round the corner to her office. She needed to pause when a form moved before her in such speed. There were footsteps immediately following. "Ilianna! Your mother and Liah are waiting."

"Father, no running in the halls!" A young girl's voice echoed even when said girl, Ilianna, Catherine remembered, was running to catch up. "Alistair!"

"Hurry up Illy!" The boy, Alistair, carried two wooden swords of different sizes. The belt he was wearing though, was already sporting a sheathed sword, a steel one. "Father. We'll tell Ma you were running."

The High King was just standing there, arms akimbo and sporting a grin. "Alright, I'll wait for your two. Hurry up."

Funny, because they were almost at different ends of halls. Peter, was standing not even catching his breath before Catherine and the children were on the other end. "Well this is a happy sight."

"Your Majesty!" Peter started when he heard and finally noticed Catherine's presence. He was so absorbed on watching the children. "Our apologies, I hope running in halls is excusable?"

"Depends on the cause."

Peter gave a sheepish smile. His youth more prominent with his simple attire. "Alistair had been itching for a spar for days now, and we promised that we'll give him that first moment we are able to. Ilianna of course wanted to join. She said it saves time and lets her do other activities if they spar and get their lessons together."

"We?"

"My wife and Susan's friend, Liah." He sneaked a glance to the kids for a moment. "Many of Susan's friends came with us. I must apologize that we never really had a chance for the grand introductions when we first arrived."

"Forgiven." Catherine watched as Alistair passed the wooden sword to Ilianna, then held her hand so they can walk together. Their eyes dancing in excitement and their words to fast to read. "Your children?"

"Yes." He sounded so humble, so thankful that he was given children that seemed wonderful. "One of the best blessings I received."

"How old are they?"

"Alistair is nine. Ilianna is six." The boy had his father's hair. The girl had, Catherine guessed, the mother's.

"Just two?"

"Just two. Isla isn't the fittest when it comes to pregnancies. We are making sure it wouldn't be too much a strain for her." Catherine hummed in reply since the children were before them. Both giving a bow and curtsy before turning to their father with expecting eyes. "Would you like to accompany us, Your Majesty?"

"Another time."

Catherine would come through the gardens later to find Peter and Alistair running around with swords meeting. A dark haired woman in a plain blue dress stood by the side watching and laughing at their antics. She was wearing a belt with a number of daggers attached. Beside her, the two cheetahs sat and they clearly wanted to join the fray. Suddenly, a redhead jumped out one of the hedges together with Ilianna, charging to the two boys.

Catherine looked away. She was needed somewhere else. The sound of laughter that followed wasn't forgotten until the next day.

BREAK

"Excuse me."

Greer made sure that her smile was steady and not even slightly shaky when she turned. All the wedding preparations were killing her and her want to just run to have a few moments for herself was winning "Yes?"

She was welcomed with a sight of a petite woman with hair the color of burnt ochre. Cat eyes stared at her, but made Greer feel like she just bared her soul. On one hand, the woman held a young boy's own. Clearly her son, with the same shape of eyes but instead of blue like the mother's, it was brown. The boy too had black hair instead of burnt ochre. "Can you tell us where the library is? I'm afraid I am not one with good direction especially with stone walls."

Greer wasn't one to let an opportunity pass. "Of course. Let me escort you there."

"Thank you very much Lady..."

"Greer. Greer of Kinross."

"Thank you Lady Greer." The woman looked relieved, while the child was looking at her with curiosity. "I am Aria, and this is my son Rowan."

"Hello Lady Greer." Greer smiled to the boy. A quiet one, she was sure. "I'm six. Many said I look younger. That's because of Mama."

Greer could only follow Aria's uneasy chuckle. She felt like there was something she needed to know but it was better left unsaid.

"Shall we?" She motioned and smiled as they went their way. "Not many of the court really knew where the library is, most of them would rather have the books sent to their quarters for reading. Some don't really have the time to read. Some just doesn't care."

"My husband is an avid fan of libraries. He said that you can tell a country's future with how they nourish their past and learn from it. How they preserve the stories and the legends."

"A sound belief. Your husband must be a really learned man to seek France's royal library."

"If we have time, he would want to talk to as many as he could to know just how much can be learned." There was a sigh. "It cannot be denied that as interesting as your land is, home is still better."

"One of the Narnian party?" Greer suddenly realized, placing the weird accent and way of speech. Aria nodded. Rowan was still looking around with a mix of boredom and curiosity. "Then your husband must be one of the Kings."

"Ah, yes. Edmund. I woke up with only a letter about playing hide and seek. Knowing him, he would be in the library. I just hope your librarian isn't that protective of the place."

"Father wouldn't leave the library unless he hates the library. Or he already read everything in it. Or if mother or Aunt Lucy would drag him out there." Rowan said with a fond smile. Greer was surprised and enamored to see the quiet child talk so intelligently and seeing the sparkle in his eyes. "Or me."

"He's not always in libraries. He just takes as much as he could. What do you think Rowan?"

"He promised us that we would play with Aunt Lola later, and that we would go play on the grounds." Aria chuckled at this. Rowan though, merely turned to Greer with a small smile. "What do you think of France, Lady Greer? Aunt Lola said that you came from a place called Scotland. Do you miss home?"

Greer passed a look to Aria, who was just smiling as serene as her son. Most would stop children from asking such questions, especially to a lady. "Well, it would be a lie if I say I do not miss it Your Highness."

"Rowan." He said quickly. Aria gave another chuckle. Rowan caught on and blushed. "Sorry, I do not like being called Your Highness."

Greer sent an inquiring look to the boy's mother who just nodded. "Why don't you like it Rowan?"

"You are helping us find Father and you are Aunt Lola's friend." He nibbled at his lip, deep in thought. "That means we're friends. So no 'Your Highness' unless it's really... reeeeeaaallly needed. Too much a mouthful too."

Greer cannot help the chuckle this time. "Well, here we are. Step right in."

"Thank you Lady Greer." Aria said with another chuckle when Rowan just entered without even waiting for his mother. "I would love to talk to you again. I am sure that Rowan does too."

"An honor, Your Majesty." Greer watched as Aria followed Rowan in.

Father. Father. Did you find something interesting? She shook her head and turned back, remembering Castleroy's children. That was definitely one of the reasons why she liked France.

Was that a growl she heard?

BREAK

Bash was welcomed by the sound of cheering a hallway away from the training grounds. It was so loud that he actually felt nervous on what the troops might have thought up to cause such ruckus. He hastened his steps only to be surprised when soldiers formed a circle and clearly, there was a fight going on. He sighed before he could even stop it, and just decided to brave on and put a halt on whatever stupidity was happening.

It was a shock to see one of his men and clearly, a Narnian without a shirt (by stance, by the gleaming golden hair and the build of the body, the otherwordly movements as if they've fought bigger things ) were fighting each other hand to hand. And the Narnian was winning. Clearly. And clearly, he wasn't the only one that lost.

"Corin, love... One more win and I'll be the one for Deanna duties until dinner." Bash almost jumped when he heard and saw Queen Lucy grinning beside him. Seated on the fence was a boy who was clearly cheering on his father and another dark haired woman holding a baby. The men, thankfully, were kind enough to not crowd them. Lucy's words seemed to push Corin, and Bash saw the energy of such goal making him move faster and hit more accurately.

This wasn't a man who learned to fight just by tavern brawls, but it was clear that he learned some techniques from there too. In a few minutes the soldier was down cradling a broken nose and Corin immediately offered a hand to help him up. A clap on the shoulder and a few words combined with a grin and the fight was over. Bash would really want to know how they could spur the whole training grounds into action, especially a fight.

"We hold on to our promises love?" Corin said the moment he was before Lucy, sweat making his body and his hair shine like polished blade. "No Network relations or whatever?"

"Edmund and Susan are the ones who would use that." Lucy chuckled. "And maybe Petra here, sometimes."

"You do too. Susan was adamant that at least you learn some of the codes..." Corin blew his bangs and took the offered towel. "and learning the behaviour at least."

"Hold on to the promises. I swore by the Lion dearest. Deanna duty until dinner. Though you do owe those poor men a good drink with all the battering you gave them."

"I'll see if I can sneak some Dwarven wine from Edmund's stash. I do hope they don't have duties soon, surely they would be knocked out after." At this moment, Bash couldn't stop the snort and three pairs of eyes turned to him.

"Oh! You're the one from before!" Lucy was the first to exclaim. By this moment, the soldiers had returned to their posts and friends helped the ones who lost from the fight with escorting them to the infirmary for first aid. "The king's deputy, am I correct?"

"Yes, Your Majesties. Sebastian de Pontiers, you can call me Bash."

"Nice to meet you finally. Well, this is my family...my side of the family." Lucy giggled. "My husband Corin. My children, Damien and Deanna."

"And the lady?" Bash couldn't help but ask, since the said lady was looking at him with too much veiled curiosity than was appropriate from his end. The woman bent her head to the side, reminding him of an owl.

"Petra Thorne. Queen Susan's lady-in-waiting." She gave the best curtsy she could give with Deanna in her arms. He needed a few moments to move on the niggling thought that "A pleasure to be of your acquaintance."

"Since we have the deputy here. Can you give those poor men an excuse from their duties so I can drink with them my thanks for letting me win this bet?" Corin's smile was too bright and too happy, and Bash internally shook his head on why this pair always seemed to be so literally bright. "I wouldn't let them get wasted...much."

Petra smirked. Lucy rolled her eyes. Deanna just watched them with quiet eyes. Damien snickered. Bash folded his arms and pretended to give it some serious thought. (Though really it was important, considering the situation of the security and the visitors in their midst.) "I am not really sure about a drink, or if someone would be willing to take their places."

"Five persons. Do you think Lirin and the others would - " Corin started.

"No." Petra intervened. "They are the monarchs' guards. If they would order that they substitute, then that would be good, but I doubt it."

"Sorry Lirin." It was only when Corin said that statement that he saw the wolf that was glaring back at them with an irritation that just begged to be said. "No offense. I promise."

A scoff. Bash had no idea what occurred.

"Maybe some other day then. Can you tell me when they would take their day offs so I can arrange our drinking together? I did promise them, and unlike my dear wife, I do my best to follow through."

Lucy laughed and clamped a hand on her lips to muffle it.

"That would be a good compromise. I will send you a note when I have spoken to them."

"Thank you."

"Can I borrow your sword?" Bash paused so suddenly just when he was about to dismiss himself. He was so surprised that he just stared at the boy, Damien, who looked at him with a sweet impish grin.

"Damien! You don't just ask people that." Lucy was trying to tamper the grin that leaked on the edges of her lips. "Uncle Peter already told you how important a sword is to someone."

"Oh. Yes. Sorry." The six year old looked unrepentant, especially with the curious gaze that they have. "Have you named your sword? My uncles did and Father too."

Bash looked at his sword and back to the boy. "I haven't."

"You should."

"I will think of it."

"You should."

Silence reigned.

"I should."

Damien looked utterly pleased at this. (And the adults around them too... even the wolf.)

BREAK

Kenna found a peculiar but shouldn't be unexpected sight when she came to Lola's room. It shouldn't be unexpected, but she was surprised. It was different to hear stories about a fantasy land from Susan's lips and believe it, compared to seeing it before her. Greer had expressed such surprise the moment Mary was out of the room that first day. "Who would've thought?"

They've fancied on believing the stories of Lola's doppelganger, long before they were called to France. They've known of the Queen who was stranded in Scotland atop her temperamental mare that only she could tame. They've known of Susan, Queen of Narnia. Greer, Aylee and her. Their young minds too accepting of the stories told to them. One who comes and go at the most random of times.

("She isn't my twin. What's that word they use?" Lola said with a grin.

"Doppelganger." Susan, young but with old eyes, said with a gracious smile.)

"Aunt Lola went out to fetch some milk." A young girl, a young Lola (Susan.) woke her up from memory lane. She sat on the bed where Ioan was curled up sleeping. Jean Phillipe was reaching out for the little plush cat that the girl was showing in front of him. The only difference of the girl from Susan was the hair and the shape of her eyes. Unnerving. "You are... Lady Greer?"

"Kenna." She closed the door carefully, not wanting to disturb the sleeping man. It was only then that she saw the two young boys sprawled on the floor looking at her. They looked back at each other, raised their fingers to their lips, then returned to what seemed like drawing.

"I'm Althea. Those two are Icarus and Rhys." The boys didn't look up so Kenna had no idea who was who. "What do you need Aunt Lola for?"

"An inquiry. Nothing you need to mind about."

"Oh." Althea stared at her for a few moments. The silence was only punctuated by their breathing and the scrape of lead to parchment. "You can wait for her here. No need for wandering about searching when Auntie would be here either way."

"Thank you." The once (almost) welcome quarters became a den of wild animals that were too lax and sure of their places. And their alpha was sleeping, and it was the most dangerous for Kenna. She had met many men and had classified them quite easily with one look and a few words. Ioan, and the Narnian males in general, was a puzzle she would take much time to figure out. "May I?"

Althea merely nodded before returning to entertaining the baby to keep it quiet. Kenna uneasily moved into the room, taking her place in the only chair in the room.

The silence was deafening and it made her skin crawl. How do you start small talk with children that you only believed to be in tales? The tension was so thick.

"How long have you known my Mama? If?" A whisper that echoed in the silence.

"I don't know if that's my story to tell Princess."

Althea just smiled. "That would mean you know her long enough."

Kenna was about to say, as weird as their circumstance was, that Susan was a good friend, Jean wailed. She immediately bolted to the bed, ready to pick Jean up. Althea was shushing the babe with wide eyes and the twins stopped their coloring. Before Kenna could reach the bed, Ioan woke with a groan. She froze.

She didn't know if it was a cat or an unfurling snake she should compare him too.

"Papa." Althea moved back when Ioan curled over the babe, completely covering him from sight and muffling his cries. Kenna didn't know what to do and looked at the girl with question. Althea looked back with a little smile. It did nothing with her fear. That child was the only chain Susan had to this place. With Jean dead, she'd be free to go home to Narnia as soon as she wanted. This man had every motive to be dangerous to a babe.

"I think it's not working pup. He seemed to like being tickled." Kenna blinked. Ioan uncurled, his back still to her, and his voice sounded disappointed over the babe's wails. "Lola would kill me."

"Maybe he's hungry?" One boy piped up.

"Lola fed him before you three came. That is most unlikely Icarus."

"Bored?" The other boy, Rhys, followed.

Ioan sighed and gathered Jean in his arms. Without any warning he jumped off the bed to face her, haggard faced and wailing babe. "Oh. Didn't see you there."

Kenna wouldn't curtsy, even when he held a pretty similar air to Susan, so she stayed there. Chin up and defiant eyes. "May I?" She held out her arms to get Jean.

"No need." Then he started bouncing Jean. Every action showed his knowledge of raising kids. "Susan disappeared when Icarus and Rhys were a year and a half. I know how to handle kids. Babes too."

Kenna blinked.

"I also took care of Althea until she's five. Alone."

Another blink.

"But that is another story."

A completely different one, with how Kenna could read from his tone.

"I think you better sing him a song. Like Mama's song you sang to Icarus and Rhys."

Kenna slowly backed to the chair she vacated, eyes still on the babe and ready to act in first wrong thing.

Hush little one,

The Lion hears,

Your call for adventure

or really, your mother dear.

"That's not Mama's song." Icarus snickered. Ioan's voice was certainly different from Francis'. Deep as the echoes of caves and abandoned hallways in their old Scotland home.

The stars watch over you,

The Badgers would remember,

We're here.

We're here.

Jean waved his little arms and whimpered. Ioan scrunched his nose in reply.

Your mother is coming,

Don't cry,

Your mother would have

my head in a platter.

Even before your Da can

say the word.

Jean gave a gurgle and Ioan smiled wide.

Ah, there we have it.

He bounced the child even more. Humming a happy tune and doing a little dance and twirl. His hair bouncing and the lines of wear giving way to a happier man.

The sky will be blue,

Will be bright with your smile.

The oceans will sing

Tales of love.

Wherever you are,

Little one,

You are loved.

You are loved.

BREAK

"Dear Lord. What madness is this?" Francis groaned as he finally let himself collapse in his chair after the door shut. Finally alone.

The same door that admitted Susan and that man, in. His fingers pinched the bridge of his nose as he tried to breathe. As he tried to calm himself and try to make sense of another preposterous idea that he couldn't process the speed it was presented to him.

"Impossible."

"In a way, it isn't."

"Then you mean that you had a child with-"

Surprise, utter and honest, as well as a clarity. Clarity that that man would've laughed his head off if given a chance.

"Goodness Kitten, that would mean..."

"What would that mean?"

"Did you sleep with him just because-"

"No."

"And you say that his wife is -"

"Yes."

"So that could be why -"

"There is a possibility."
"Then the thought Susan. The simple thought and the amount of possibilities."

"Yes. Edmund is really happy of this new mindboggling idea. I am also looking into the thought. On the other hand, this isn't the time for that."

"But Kitten!?"

Francis tried to block the remnants of the conversation in his head. Susan, Lola, just asking an audience and then presenting such an outrageous idea. Presenting it with a surety that such plan would work! Their familiarity.

The feeling of slipping came back when the confusion wore off, and with it was a dose of anger.

How. Dare. She? Was the first destructive thought.

He felt like someone's puppet, made to perform without even caring about what he thought of, what he felt. He felt like he was losing himself, losing his goal, losing what he told himself when he took, seized, the crown from his father's head.

For one split moment, when Susan asked if he had any objection on the plan she presented, he felt like yelling at her. Yell at her at how he was The King and that he knew his land and kingdom. Yell that she was only a visiting queen when it came to crowns and monarchies. That the land she was sovereign of, was too far to fathom. That she had no right to exercise her power to him.

But then, he would be lying. And Susan, being the Queen that she is, would know. Francis, among all other traits that she inhibited, could and would respect the age of her eyes.

He would be lying, because he didn't know his land or his people, or his kingdom. He was a prince locked in his lessons and his lovers, his hobbies and his wish to be a good king. Too focused on his goals that he never realized nor saw the things he must work on to prepare himself.

Between the two of them, he didn't have the right. Birthright could only weigh as much as a name could, when it all came down to being a good monarch.

"Do you love her?" He remembered that man asking. "With all your heart and through time and all eternity?"

"I do." He echoed the words he answered. It felt heavier than any wedding vow.