Before long, the new Telmo-Narnian regime had settled down and organised itself almost completely. The castle was alive and happy once more and the days slowly turned into weeks. Before anyone could blink, the Midwinter festival was upon them once more. Isadora, with the help of Cloe and some other servants, had cleared out her family's old rooms and packed up their belongings to be sent to storage in the castle's attics and in Meadowholt. As she locked the door behind her and handed the key to Hywel, her heart lifted a little. She was finally ready to move forward properly.

Her days had become structured in almost exactly the same way as they had before Caspian's Revolution. Cloe would wake her up at around seven, she would breakfast, and then she would head out for training. Her old routine had vaguely been similar although the training then had either been something academic with Dr Cornelius or some tedious etiquette lesson with either her mother or another lady. As difficult and as punishing as it was on her body, she much preferred swinging her sword around under the watchful eye of Glenstorm (since the centaur had volunteered his services as an arms tutor). The remainder of her day would be spent in either various Council and committee meetings or in her office. There was a lot more to being a Lord than she had ever thought.

On this particular morning, however, Glenstorm had gone to visit Rosecliff – his new lordship – and his herd so she decided to get some practice in with the Bow instead. She had not touched one in months; in the Ettinsmoors she had been directing the archers more than firing with them and had used her preferred crossbow when she did need to fight.

After collecting the Bow, she stepped out into the training yard. It was a peculiar little square squeezed between the Keep and the Armoury. She had not spent much time here before except passing through with her friends in the hopes of catching the eye of the soldiers. By the Eagle, she never would have dreamed of stepping foot outside of her rooms looking like this before. She was dressed perfectly adequately for spending some time firing arrows at a target – trousers, a shirt, boots, a jerkin to stave off some of the encroaching cold – but her younger self, so self-absorbed and so hungry for male attention, would have likely made a snide comment as she trekked past with an entourage of friends.

Those friends had all long withdrawn. So, most likely, they had never been real friends anyway.

Lorrin and Trumpkin were in the yard this morning. Both also had their Weapons with them; Lorrin was just completing a flurry of slashes against an innocent dummy with the Axe of the River's Run and Trumpkin was idly watching him whilst leaning on his new Hammer of the Mountains. Both Weapons happened to be favourites of hers. The Axe of the River's Run was one of the prettiest of the Weapons. Its double blades were lined with small blue waves that twisted around and down the handle, a sapphire set at the base. The Hammer of the Mountains similarly had a little mountain range engraved along it. Once upon a time, it had belonged to Isadora's late cousin Gregoire. He had handled it with an ease and grace unimaginable whereas, when he let her touch it, she could barely drag it along the floor. She wondered how Trumpkin was faring with it.

She nodded to both of them and then crossed to the archery targets at the far side of the yard. Setting her quiver at her feet, she notched one of the golden-fletched arrows into the Bow. With a great deal more difficulty than she was expecting, she pulled back the arrow and let it fly. It arced through the air and fell short.

A snigger broke out from behind her. She turned angrily to see Trumpkin grinning at her.

With pursed lips, she turned back only to have another arrow fall short too. Lorrin could not help but chuckle too as she tried again only to have another miss.

"You keep that up and Caspian will have to take the Bow off you," Trumpkin laughed. "You seem to have lost your skill from Beruna."

She lowered the Bow and turned back to the pair of them.

"What are you talking about?" she asked stonily.

Trumpkin shifted slightly and grinned at her. "Well, at the Battle of Beruna, I'd have put you down as an expert. You were fighting as well as Queen Susan and now you look like you've never picked up a bow in your life."

The strange vision of the sand-covered city and the two children who played there suddenly came flooding back to her. Something caught in her throat and she gave a little choking cough as the scent of spices and horses enveloped her.

"The battle is a little hazy for me," she managed to stammer out.

"You were terrifying to watch," Lorrin added. "You cut down anyone in front of you brutally. I stayed out your way because you were killing anyone dressed in the Telmarine armour; I was scared you would kill me too if I got too close. And you had this face on you; an indescribable hatred but distant, like you weren't all there."

"I'm not sure if I was," she mumbled, her fingers playing with her bowstring.

"It would explain why you are struggling with the Bow now," Lorrin said. "You are thinking too hard."

"I'm just not used to the Bow," she tried to protest but he shook his head.

"That doesn't matter. Your family are archers and have been for generations. Even as a little girl you had a natural ability to aim," he explained. "How do you think I am able to do this?"

He took a few steps back and swung his Axe around in another complicated flurry. The blue enamelled blade turned into a blur as he swung it faster and faster until he spun and lopped the head off the poor dummy in one blow.

"That was just showing off," Trumpkin pointed out.

"But I can do it because this is my family's Weapon," Lorrin panted, heaving the Axe onto his shoulder. "Only a Sopespian can handle this Axe like that."

Trumpkin looked down at the Hammer he still leant against.

"This feels like every other weapon I've ever used," he said. Clearly he could fight with it then, Isadora thought. The worry that she could not handle the Bow poked her again at that realisation. What if she was not worthy to bear it? What if her grandfather had been wrong?

"Yes, because it isn't attuned to your family yet," Lorrin was saying. "Ask your grandson's grandson and he will feel differently. The Weapons are alive and they recognise the touch of their owners."

Trumpkin raised his eyebrows but he said no more.

"Try relaxing," Lorrin said to Isadora. "At the Battle, the trauma of the Kings' duel-"

"I wasn't traumatised!" Isadora said indignantly. He gave her a pained look.

"Fine then, the adrenaline of the anticipation of the battle caused you to tap into your family's knowledge of the Bow – so even though it was not the Bow that you held in your hands, you were still able to use it like an expert."

"So, basically magic," she said.

"A kind of magic, I suppose," he agreed. "Just… try recreating how you felt before the Battle again. Relax into it."

She turned back to the target and notched another arrow into the Bow. For a moment, her nostrils filled again with the now familiar smell of spices and horses and she felt her stance subtly change. The arrow flew from the Bow and, although it did not hit the centre, it this time found the target.

"Not bad," Lorrin said. "Keep it up and you'll be like the First Isadora in no time!"

She turned back to either laugh or thank him but her words faltered as she suddenly realised how tired he looked. It was no secret in court that the late Lord Sopespian had left his son in some sort of trouble but the nature of that trouble Lorrin was keeping very firmly to himself. The clerk Hywel had found for him had been politely dismissed after only a few days. Night after night, Lorrin could be found in his office, bent over his desk and scribbling wildly, or running down to the Royal Archives in the bowels of the castle to find some paper or other. Dark circles had bloomed under his eyes and worry lines were beginning to etch themselves into his skin.

In truth, he was living in terror. Terror that Caspian would discover exactly what he was doing.

Today, after bidding farewell to Trumpkin and Isadora and returning the Axe to its rightful place, he collected some papers from his office and rode out of Beaversdam on the pretext of visiting Beruna. As he clattered up the gravel drive, he saw a waiting carriage and a pile of suitcases. His mother, Pála, was directing the gaggle of servants busying themselves with the luggage but she turned as she heard him approaching.

"Hello, son!" she called. "Are you joining me after all?"

"No," he said as he dismounted. "I wasn't expecting to find you here, if I'm honest."

She smiled as he pecked her on the cheek. "Well, I'm just stopping for a night to break up the journey between Redhaven and Rebeca's," she said. "Besides, I'm still trying to come to terms with why your sisters have been so chummy ever since your father died."

She looked carefully at the servants around them before switching from the Common Tongue to her native tongue of Sevenese.

"He's upstairs," she said.

Lorrin paused. The only servant of theirs who spoke Sevenese was Pála's handmaiden who had been with her mistress long before she had ever left the Seven Isles. Anything she overheard she would keep to herself but he was always slightly nervous that someone else would secretly hear something they shouldn't.

"Does anyone else know he's here?" he asked, also in Sevenese. She gave him a pained look.

"Well, yes, they saw him arrive. They aren't blind, Lor."

She laid a hand on his arm and squeezed it. "It was bad enough watching your father work with these people," she said. "Please, go to the King. He's a good man; he will listen…"

"Don't worry about me, Mother. I know what I'm doing," he assured her. She cupped his jaw and rubbed a thumb across his cheek, her blue eyes staring into his.

"Have a good Yule," she said, switching back to the Common Tongue. "Pass on my well-wishes to his Majesty, would you?"

He smiled. "Travel safe, and give my love to Rebeca and her family."

Pála watched him go, a few tendrils of fear snaking around her heart again.

She had already lost her husband and she was now terrified that she would lose her only child as well.


He was waiting for Lorrin in the small sitting area at the top of the manor's grand staircase; the mysterious Telmarine who had first appeared at Caspian's coronation ball. He was lounging across the couch, gazing out at the forests of Beruna that hugged the house, but he turned and grinned as Lorrin appeared.

"Hello there!" he said.

Lorrin sat down on the couch opposite without answering him and pulled his papers from his satchel.

"On your own today?" he asked stiffly as he unfolded them.

"Yup! All on my lonesome," his companion said.

"Is that wise?"

"Please, no-one notices us unless we want to be noticed. The amount of times I've been up to the castle and no-one has ever tried to stop me and find out who I am. I'd say you might want to address that little security problem if it would not make my little tasks so much more difficult. What have you got for me?"

Lorrin hesitated and then pushed the papers across the low table between them. His visitor sat up to take a look, his face now serious.

"I just don't think what you are planning is feasible," Lorrin told him. He pointed out some details on the parchment between them; an incredibly detailed blueprint.

"You just can't take the Citadel by force; it was built to defend and it has never been taken. The easiest way in is by sea and you will be a fool to take it that way. On the other side, the only road in is through this pass here and it is very well defended because pirates and bandits still occasionally try to come over the headland that way," he said.

The other watched carefully. "Getting in is not the problem," he said. "We can pose as merchants easily enough – we've done it before – I'm just more concerned about how we are supposed to hold the city when we have it."

"You need someone else on board," Lorrin said, hating himself more with every word he spoke. "I haven't got the power to get you where you need to be."

"Great, Father is going to be thrilled with that," his visitor muttered, a crease appearing between his brows. "Can I take these plans?"

"Sure," Lorrin sighed. "If anyone asks I'll say I sent them off to my grandfather or something. Anything else?"

"How is our dear Isadora?" he asked as he folded up the blueprints. "Father thinks we should be hampering her progress but it's such a joy to see her blossom. I sometimes wonder if I should approach her and then I remember that I am supposed to be working against her."

"She would rip you to shreds either way," Lorrin said shortly. "I've watched her do it to countless men before you. I would not quite discount her yet; she made leaps and bounds today."

As the two men's conversation moved forward, back in Beaversdam Cloe was introducing her mistress to some of the finer differences between the Narnian and Telmarine celebration of the Midwinter festival, Yule.

"So, he just breaks in?" Isadora asked her. "To your homes… while you are asleep?"

"It's hardly breaking in when he's expected," the half-dryad said. "Besides, he doesn't take anything; he only leaves presents!"

Isadora laid down her pen. "I'm still not sold on this whole Father Christmas character," she said.

"But you've seen his presents," the maid said with a laugh. "High King Peter's sword, Queen Susan's bow and horn, Queen Lucy's dagger and cordial! They were all presents from Father Christmas to the Kings and Queens of Old, right before the Great Thaw. Did the Telmarines not have Father Christmas?"

"No. The Midwinter festival was for celebrating our survival."

"That's really quite grim," Cloe noted, making a face. "Ours was always a happy occasion. Telmarines really don't like fun, do they?"

Isadora felt a little put-out by that. Yes, there was always a particularly dreary service where someone would recount all the hardships the Telmarines had faced over the years but the rest was always an exciting blur of parties, friendly faces, and far too much food. This year would be a melancholy occasion due to all the missing, familiar faces but it was also a reason to celebrate.

Celebrate the new, celebrate the promise of the new age, and when Yule finally arrived it was eagerly anticipated. Isadora awoke slightly before Cloe arrived to wake her and took a moment to gaze out of her windows at the snow drifting down.

A light rap on her door made her shake off the final dregs of sleep.

"Merry Yule, my lady," Cloe said quietly as she slipped into the room.

Isadora smiled and sat up. "Merry Yule, Cloe," she said.

"I've got your morning tea here," she said, setting the tray down on Isadora's vanity. "The King is expecting you and the other Lords for breakfast in half an hour."

"Wonderful," Isadora sighed, pushing the warm covers off her legs. "Have you set the fire in the other rooms?"

"Not yet."

"Go do that while I have my tea and then come help me dress."

The maid smiled and curtsied, leaving her alone. Isadora smiled to herself as she stared out at the snowflakes drifting past the window. With a sigh, she heaved herself out of bed and crossed over to her tea.

She paused and stared down at what lay beside the tea tray. Pushing aside the black feather, she lifted up the necklace. It was a simple pendant, only a ruby and the golden chain, but it was very beautiful. She picked up the slip of parchment that lay next to it and read the words written upon it in scarlet ink.

You could use a little more faith. F.C.


Feels strange to upload what is essentially a Christmas chapter at the beginning of summer. Oh well! :D

Tsk, tsk, Lorrin is certainly up to something! Any thoughts? And what do you think of Isadora's strange "episodes". Got any explanations for the smells of horses and spices?

Thank you to AStarElvenLight2 and TortoisetheStoryteller for your reviews last chapter.

To AStarElvenLight2 - I too wish Ghaliya could have stayed but, as I have previously explained, her continued presence would have eventually posed a serious problem for the plot I have already worked out. As much as it killed me to lose one of my favourite characters, it had to be done I'm afraid. Thank you for your other kind words though! :)

As always, leave me a review with all your thoughts on the occurrences thus far and I will see you next time!