Enna found herself out on the grass before long. With all the windows of the palace glinting down at her, she felt distinctly exposed, and with hardly a thought but to escape, she took off at a run, leaping over stones and other natural litter, and would have kept running if she had not run smack into a solid object. This solid object happened to be a very tall centaur, and he grabbed hold of her before she could gain her feet again and held fast. She struggled violently to free herself, but he only lifted her off the ground and let her dangle in midair.
"Merius! Merius! What in Aslan's name are you doing?"
The centaur looked past her and then bowed suddenly, brushing Enna across the grass and lifting her again. "My lord, please to let me explain."
"Set Lady Enna on her feet and let her come here first, my friend."
Enna was put back down and pushed gently in the direction of—the high king. He looked down at her with something akin to pity in his gentle eyes, and bowed to the centaur. "Thank you, Merius, but your services are no longer needed."
"Yes, sire," returned the creature with an elaborate bow.
"Come along, Lady Enna," said the king to her, extending his arm. "Let us return to Cair Paravel and fetch you some hot cider. Then perhaps you might feel inclined to talk with me."
Enna felt her heart catch in her throat, but there was nothing for her to do but timidly hook her hand over his elbow, and he led her leisurely across the grassy knolls towards the castle. She could feel the heat of his flesh through the soft cotton tunic he wore, and his pulse was slow and steady against her palm. How can he be so composed? she thought frantically, and with a twinge of jealousy. Her own heart was racing so hard she wondered why the king couldn't hear it.
He glanced over at her, and her knees went weak with trepidation. "Your hand is trembling, Lady Enna," said the king to her. "Are you afraid?"
"No, my lord," she insisted, sounding much braver than she felt!
"I assure you, there is nothing to fear," he went on. "It has already been almost a week since a maid was last beheaded in our court!"
Enna knew he was jesting, but her face paled of its own accord.
Oh, by the devil, he had noticed. "Please, Lady Enna, forgive me. My brother has oft accused me of having a merciless teasing streak. Now I see that he is right. Pay me no attention, I beg you. I only wished to ease your discomfort."
"I am not discomforted, sire!" Enna said, more indignantly than she'd intended.
"Your face says otherwise, madam," he replied easily. "Your cheeks have an unhealthy pallor, and your mouth is quite thin. And your brow is furrowed."
"It is my head," she answered. "It aches."
"I see," he said, but Enna knew he did not believe her.
After a few silent minutes, they came to the great, gated entrance to the castle. Enna wondered if the king would really have to wake the gatekeepers to open it for them, but he turned quickly and led her over to a small door in the shadows, which he unlocked and opened. "If one wants to know the secret entrances to a castle," he explained, locking it behind him once they were both through, "it really is useful, being its king."
Enna actually felt a smile twitching on her lips, but she quickly hid it and forced it away. The king hadn't noticed. "Aye, sir," she said solemnly.
He nodded in reply, and they went up through the deserted courtyard into a corridor, lit with flickering torches along the wall. As soon as Enna went in and the light washed over her, she realized that the king looked positively exhausted. Dusky circles underscored his eyes, and there was a peculiar way about how he blinked that suggested to Enna that he hadn't slept in a good many hours. She dearly wanted to say something to him, perhaps recommend that he retire for the night, but then she remembered that he was the king and she was a guest in deep trouble, and she kept her mouth shut.
Soon enough, Enna recognized the corridor they were in, and the king rapped twice at a door before it opened, admitting them both. The admitter was Rosandrine, who smiled and curtsied clumsily to the king, then reached out and tenderly touched Enna's loose hair.
"Hello, love," she said kindly. Then to the king, "My lord, what would you like?"
"Some hot cider or tea, Rosandrine, if it isn't too much of a trouble."
"Of course not!" Rosandrine cried, and set about clearing a table for Enna and the king to sit at.
"Please, Lady Enna, I would be honored if you would sit here," he said, pulling out a chair and beckoning her to it.
Enna sat obediently, folding her hands in her lap and casting her eyes to the ground. A chair groaned as the king sat, and she saw him lean forward onto the table; he sighed almost inaudibly, and this strangely human sound made Enna look up. He was simply observing her, with a inquisitive furrow in his brow, the way one would watch a specimen in a menagerie. Enna felt her hackles rise a little. Before she could stop herself, she said:
"Why do you stare at me so, Your Majesty?"
He looked a little taken aback, and Enna felt her heart stop, but then he smirked not unkindly. "Do not mistake natural curiosity for lack of manners, my lady. I…I am simply trying to divine what it is within you that makes you so…unusually wary of others. Do you have dwarfish blood, perhaps?"
"I should think not," was her brisk reply. "I am Galmanian."
The king nodded thoughtfully.
"And what would make you—Your Majesty think that I am mistrustful?" she added.
He raised his eyebrows. "I see that you do not take kindly to caged questions. There we are one, my lady. I suppose I must ask you outright. Why did you take to flight so suddenly?"
It was a direct question, one that she could do nothing to avoid. She was in trouble!
"Please, sire," she began. "Do not be angry with me. I was so tired. I slept through the supper hours…and I…I was afraid…simply afraid…that Your Royal Highness would take offense at my oversight. I was afraid…I feared that you would put me back into the dungeon, or…" She stopped herself and lowered her head, physically biting her tongue so hard that she could almost taste the pain.
The king bent forward until he'd caught her eye. "Please, Lady Enna, continue. You face no castigation here. Not in my kingdom."
"Do not tell me I misjudged you!" Enna heard herself saying loudly. "For I know enough about the wide world to know how kings take to offense."
The king folded his hands on the table and looked at them. Rosandrine set two steaming cups of sweet-smelling cider before them, but Enna didn't dare take a sip. The centauress then retreated to the potato room.
Then the king looked up. "Please—" he said, motioning to her, "please, drink. If you were to catch a choler from your jaunt about in the chill night air, I should never forgive myself."
She hesitated a moment before taking up the mug and sipping at it.
"I am, to say the least, disappointed," he began. "I wish that you had had a better impression of me, and my royal siblings…I am saddened to hear that you feared for your life in Narnia. Indeed, it grieves me deeply."
To her extreme annoyance, Enna felt guilt churning in her belly. The poor young man looked so burdened already, and now she had brought more woe to rankle in his heart. She bit her lip sorrowfully and put her hands in her lap. "Please, sire," she said, "please, it is my own fault, not any of yours. I…" She swallowed away the rising bile of panic in her throat. "I am a very impetuous person. I often misapprehend things, to my own detriment."
He smiled kindly at her. "Do not fault yourself, so, madam. I readily admit that your reception at Cair Paravel was not the finest this court has seen. But while Narnians pride themselves on their freedom and happiness, the law is the law, and it must not be broken. You understand, I hope?"
She nodded truthfully. "Aye, my lord."
The king reached across the table and patted her hand. The sudden intrusion of her comfort zone made her start. But he didn't seem to notice, instead standing up and putting his cup into a bucket of soapy water. "Very well, then, Lady Enna. My heart is certainly lighter, and I thank you. I hope also that you are relieved of your distress. I assure you, in this castle your neck is quite safe from being severed."
Enna found herself smiling a little at this, and she hid it behind her hand. "Aye, sire."
"Tomorrow, perhaps, when you are better rested, you might join the court at a meal."
"Aye, sire."
He looked about to leave, but then he stopped and looked back at her. "And I will speak to my sisters about procuring you some proper clothes. I…" He actually looked a little embarrassed. "I know nothing about gowns and silk and lace. But Susan will surely die of shock if she sees you in a man's trousers."
Enna had forgotten about her terribly inappropriate attire! She felt her cheeks flaming, but she nodded reservedly and said, "Thank you, sire."
The king nodded, then gave her a little bow and left the room. Enna, suddenly alone, quickly drained the rest of the sweet cider and sat in thought for a while before returning to her room to stoke up the fire and settle down for what looked to be a long sojourn.