--Chapter 8: The Ball: Part 2--

To my surprise, the entire evening passed without incident. In fact, it was such an extraordinarily ordinary ball that near the middle of it, I was practically hoping for someone to crumple from poison. But fortunately, my boredom was not everlasting. After what seemed like ages of waiting, a tall man caught my eye.

He looked like a Calormen—which was the reason I paid him any mind at all. His hair and skin were dark, but after studying him carefully, I realized that it was several shades lighter than that of Lord Irwin. Curious, I managed to get closer to the man. When I heard him speak, everything became clear; for his accent was that of a Terabinthian! I let out a sigh of disappointment, and made to return to my quiet corner. However, in my turning, I ran headlong into the person beside me in the crowded room, who tripped and fell to the ground.

"Lion's mane, I am sorry!" I knelt to help the person to her feet, and found myself staring into a pair of furious eyes, darker than shadows. Fio.

Recognition replaced the anger in her gaze, and after a moment, she grinned.

"Imagine meeting you in a place like this. And it's not really your fault I fell—I can't move an inch in these blasted slippers without tripping."

As I was helping her to her feet, the dark man I had been watching turned our way and spied out the incident.

"Fiona, my niece! Who is this ruffian, this prince of rascals, eh?" he asked in a deep, dramatic voice, stepping our way with malice in his gaze. His eyes, I noticed, were as dark as Fio's. Perhaps darker.

"Uncle Kader, he's not a ruffian," Fio protested, directing a disgusted glance toward her skirts as she dusted them off, and then giving the man a significant look, "nor a prince of rascals, though he is, indeed, royalty. This is King Edmund the Just."

The man's eyebrows shot up as he studied me carefully.

"My apologies, your Majesty," he said, sweeping a low, theatrical bow. "I meant no offense; only the wellbeing of my only niece, whose father and mother are long since gone of this world."

"None taken," I replied, nodding my head in return to his apology. "Might I inquire as to your name?"

The man straightened, and I could see his features easily under the strong light of the ballroom chandelier. His face was that of a middle-aged man, a man of courage and honesty, but also of cunning and recklessness. He would've made an excellent pirate in the cinemas.

"I am Kader, Lord under His Majesty King Fairron of Terabinthia, and uncle of this, my wayward niece Fiona. I see, from your faces, that you have already met? Perhaps she has shown you her flying crimson orbs, eh?"

My face flushed with the memory, and Lord Kader let out a roar of laughter.

"Yes, young sire, Fio told me of your meeting. Keep up the practice and you will do well as a juggler. Perhaps, if you ever grow good enough," he gave me a curious glance, "you might perform in the great hall of Terabinthia, should you chance to visit."

I shrugged and smiled in return.

"Perhaps, my lord. I fear that it will take a great load of practice to transform me into a juggler."

Kader laughed again and shook his head.

"Tell that to my niece. She told me she was determined to make a juggler out of you, if it was the last thing she ever did."

I looked at Fio, and she nodded stoutly.

"Someone's got to do it," she put in with a smile. "Whatever would happen if word got out that I tried to teach the King of Narnia to juggle and failed? 'Twould be a horrid story to have told around the campfire: 'the King Who Could Not Juggle'."

Kader and I both burst out with merry laughter. Fio smiled at her own jest, but then looked away with a frown.

"Ah, Fio," Kader said after wiping tears from his eyes, "enjoy yourself tonight. I know that you'll be in good hands."

As her uncle turned to join the crowd of dancers, I barely heard Fio's muttered, "I can take care of myself."

She looked up at me, and blushed as she saw that I had heard.

"Do not mistake me, I love my uncle. He is a magnificent man, but he can be a bit..."

"Protective? Suffocating?" I supplied. Fio nodded.

"Not to mention melodramatic. As a matter of fact," she added, wrinkling her nose and looking down, "I'd rather not have come at all tonight. I hate dressing up for things like this. I don't belong at balls or formal occasions. My place is at sea, or in the shadows with my juggling balls. Truly," she said with a wry smile, "the only balls I enjoy are the ones I can juggle."

I let out a short laugh and shook my head.

"I share your opinion, lady. Indeed, I would rather not have come tonight as well, but in the place of your uncle was my sister, Susan."

"Queen Susan made you come?" Fio asked with a smile.

I nodded. Fio looked away from me, around at the crowds of people.

"I have not met your older sister," she said after a moment. "Actually you're the only one I've met."

"Would you like me to introduce you to her?" I asked spur-of-the-moment, not thinking about what I was doing, and then realizing just as soon as the words were out of my mouth that that would mean coming into sight of Susan, who would insist upon finding me another dancing partner, or perhaps—Aslan forbid—Lady Claudia again.

However, oblivious of my internal strife, Fio smiled and nodded excitedly, eyes flashing.

"I should be honored to meet the woman who induced you to attend the ball. It must've been a great work indeed, stubborn as you are."

I frowned and looked away. So that was her reason. I should've known

"Not so great as you might think. And as a matter of fact, I came of my own free will. It was her idea to make me wear this—" I gestured to the horrid suit I was wearing, and Fio burst out with a laugh.

"Then we are of the same mind as to the loathsomeness of court clothes as well! But come," she put a hand on my arm and tugged me toward the dance floor, "let me meet your sister."

Gritting my teeth and preparing for what would likely end in another dance with Lady Claudia, I strode forward to where my sister, Susan, was standing. Each step seemed to fall more and more heavily on the wooden boards of the ballroom floor, but when I at last reached Susan, I was resigned to my fate.

"Why, Edmund!" my sister exclaimed with a bright—if somewhat suspicious—smile. "I have not seen you on the floor these last seven dances!"

"I was otherwise occupied, Queen Susan." I left a note of warning in my voice to reassure that she wouldn't press the point, and then turned to look at the young gentlemen who flanked her, one on either side.

"Hullo, Col," I said, recognizing the fair haired man on Susan's left. "Beautiful full moon out tonight, isn't there?"

Lord Col bowed in greeting, and then gave me a grateful smile. He was one of our youngest sea captains, but a fine hand at the helm in a tight spot. His fascination—other than my sister, of course—was the art of astronomy, which he never failed to bring up in a conversation.

"Indeed, King Edmund. 'Twould be a lovely night to sail up the Great River, were it not for pleasanter activities."

He glanced at Susan and then gave me a meaningful look. I understood at once. Poor Col was having trouble tonight thanks to this new noble from Galma. I grinned, and then shrugged helplessly. He sighed and looked away in disappointment.

"Who is your other friend, Susan?"

Susan's face was practically glowing as she glanced at the man on her right side.

"This is Lord Ther, a new noble under King Gavin of Galma. Lord Ther, my royal brother, King Edmund the Just."

As Lord Ther bowed deeply, I studied his face. He had darker features than Col, and his hair was jet black, combed smoothly away from his face. His cashmere tunic was colored dark green and a fine cream-white; his black boots were polished to perfection. I figured that Susan thought him quite dashing.

"A pleasure, Lord Ther," I said, nodding my head in welcome.

He nodded in return.

"The pleasure is mine, your Majesty. Your royal sister has been most gracious to allow a mere new noble as I the honor of her company. I trust you do not disapprove?"

"My sister's companions are her own affair," I replied, my words careful, and not revealing that Peter and I did some deep conversing on whether a certain 'companion' needed to be removed from Susan's presence or not. "As it is, welcome to Cair Paravel. I trust you have enjoyed your stay?"

"It has been most satisfactory, sire."

I knew, as he spoke this final sentence, that Lord Ther was a 'slippery eel to manage', as the Marsh-wiggles' colloquialism goes. He was too smooth with his words for me to trust what he said. And I saw by the look in Susan's eyes that she had reached the same conclusion. She gave me a half smile when I met her gaze, as if to say, 'Come now, Ed. I'm not quite so much of a fool as you think me.'

Fio cleared her throat from behind me, and I suddenly remembered the true meaning of this conversation.

"Ah, yes. Fio, this is my sister, Queen Susan. Susan, this is—"

"Fiona of Terabinthia," Fio finished for me. "I am the niece of Lord Kader, noble to King Fairron, and daughter to Jacques the Minstrel."

Susan and Col both gasped, and Lord Ther looked surprised. I turned to look at my friend with an air of astonished indignation.

"You're what?!"

TBC….

A/N: I just realized that I haven't 'replied' to any of my anonymous reviewers. My apologies, for your reviews are just as meaningful as those of the ones from other members (or people who have signed in).

Anony'mouse': I can't tell you how much I appreciate your constant reviewing! Your enthusiasm inspires me, and makes me want to post the next chapters immediately...*sigh* So, really, thank you.

Hello: If I encountered a talking squirrel, I would greet in the traditional Narnian fashion (which I have yet to figure out) and ask if it knew the way to Rivendell in Elvish. ;) Well...or maybe I'd just stare for a while. ;)

And special thanks to all my other reviewers as well! You've been such an encouragement...really. ;) So, yet again, my thanks and profound appreciation.