Disclaimer: I don't own Narnia. 'Nuff said.

Author's Note: Chapter 24! Yay! Perhaps a turning point, perhaps not...I have seen that I have demands for longer chapters, so I have brought to you, in fact, a longer chapter! Enjoy!

Chapter 24 ~ The Bell Tower

Miraz knew that he had to tell Prunaprismia now. He couldn't keep a secret from her that she had every right of knowing. He knew that if she truly loved him, she would accept that Caspian had to die.

But he couldn't just tell her on the terrace or in the courtyard. Places like those were, of course, inhabited almost every hour of the day and night and very open. He would need to find a more secret place—either the Hall of Kings—Miraz shivered at the thought—or the bell tower. The bell tower was very high, though not as high as some of the other towers, it was certainly quite far from anyone hearing them, and completely uninhabited from the bottom up. They would need to go there at night, around midnight, when most were probably asleep.

He woke her when it was around midnight the following night. The wind was harsh outside and the clouds foreshadowed rain.

She opened her eyes reluctantly. Upon seeing Miraz bending over her she asked, "What is it, Miraz?"

"You must come with me." He whispered. "Get your cloak."

Prunaprismia slowly rose from the bed, sliding on a pair of black slippers and fastening on a dark colored cloak. Miraz was fully dressed and looked quite determined. Prunaprismia, however, was still quite confused.

"What's going on, Miraz?" She asked, still out of sorts.

"Come." Miraz repeated, taking her wrist and leading her out the door. Prunaprismia fell silent, wordlessly wondering why her husband was acting so strangely.

His pace quickened when they came out into the hall, causing Prunaprismia to trip over her skirt and struggle to keep up. His grip tightened on her wrist and he pulled her onward. The halls were dark and uninhabited, so she knew it was very late, probably the midnight hours. This deepened her suspicions.

"Where are you taking me, Miraz—I demand an answer!" She said firmly.

Miraz turned to face her and put a finger to his lips. "Shhh." He whispered harshly.

"Miraz—I refuse to go a step further if you do not tell me." She did not lower her voice at all, gazing at him levelly.

"To the bell tower." Miraz said brusquely, pulling her onward as they continued through endless hallways. Prunaprismia once again fell silent.

They continued on until they came to a large wooden door with an iron handle. Miraz pushed it open and Prunaprismia found herself climbing a flight of stairs. Miraz went quicker still, almost running, with her lagging behind on his arm, struggling to keep her feet. The stairs seemed as endless as the hallways had been, but soon enough Prunaprismia and Miraz were standing in the room just below the belfry, Prunaprismia struggling for breath but Miraz as collected as he was when he had summoned her.

"Why have you brought me here?" Prunaprismia demanded. She tore from his grasp and looked him in the eye. "Tell me."

Miraz sighed and looked away from her. "I am a prince, Prunaprismia."

"You think I do not know that already, Miraz?"

"I know you do. But you do not understand what it feels like."

Prunaprismia grimaced. "Tell me what it feels like, then, Miraz."

"Belittling."

Prunaprismia fell silent, her grimace deepening. She knew Miraz was very ambitious, and she knew that there was more to this than what he was telling her.

"Do you know what it's like to see a foolish man who is your brother take the throne?"

"Miraz, what are you—"

"You do not."

Prunaprismia began to grow worrisome. What was her husband planning? What was he conspiring?

"Don't talk in riddles, Miraz." Prunaprismia said. "Tell me what it is you wish to say to me."

"It is difficult to tell people what I plan." Miraz murmured. He walked closer to her. The wind whistled through the window hauntingly as he gently took her hand in his. "Will you listen, fully and earnestly?"

"Yes." Prunaprismia nodded slowly.

Miraz was silent for a moment, then he continued. "Every man has ambitions, Prunaprismia. I have ambitions. Many ambitions. That is why I am mistaken."

"Mistaken?"

"Aye. Because of my…dark…ambitions, people mistake me for a traitor. A conspirator. An enemy. Do not mistake me, Prunaprismia, when I tell you of my dark ambitions."

Prunaprismia bit her lip and looked at the ground.

"Look at me, Prunaprismia."

She looked up at him reluctantly, seeing fire in his eyes. She wanted terribly to look down again, but she couldn't tear away from his piercing gaze.

"Do you believe Caspian should be on the throne, Prunaprismia?"

"I…I…"

"Do you?"

"I cannot say."

"What would you say if I told you he should be dead?"

Prunaprismia breathed in sharply, her eyes widening. Dead? Was this what Miraz was planning? Murder?

"Miraz." She gasped franticly. "You are not a murderer, Miraz! You are a good man, you wouldn't—"

"I wouldn't let a tyrant rule. A true man, a true warrior would not let a tyrant rule."

"There is a fine line between warrior and murderer, Miraz."

"What line?"

"Chivalry."

TO BE CONTINUED