It's safe to say that the Prince does not repeat his initial blunder, for which Hazel is eternally grateful. Arranged or not, she does not wish to start out her marriage in anger.
Two weeks into his month-long stay at Cair Paravel, the High Queen actually finds herself becoming infatuated with Prince Leopold. Seven years her senior, Leopold is the same age as her eldest brother. He tells her of battles he has fought and treaties he has helped write. He reminds her of each of her siblings in small ways.
Seeing him wield a sword during his morning exercises has her seeing Peter in his place for a moment. Though, such images are almost immediately replaced with Edmund when his words are just as sharp a weapon in his sparring sessions.
Susan makes an appearance when he encounters the children of one of the palace cooks. His gentle tone and soft words make her heart ache for her eldest sister.
It's the lilt of his voice during his story telling that make her chest fill empty. He suffuses enough wonder into his tone that she can almost believe that it's Lucy sitting on the sofa across from hers in the evenings.
Any mention of her siblings seems to cause him to change the subject quickly, though. As if he is terrified that she'll look upon him with her icy gaze once again. It makes Hazel feel shameful for having such a reaction upon their meeting.
While she refuses to even entertain the idea of her brothers and sisters never returning, that does not mean she doesn't wish to speak of them at all. But that is exactly what's happened. Prince Leopold is not alone in his refusal to speak of the lost Kings and Queens. No one will. Sorrowful and fearful expressions fill the faces of anyone who dares to speak their names in her presence. New topics are always presented before she even has the chance to assure them that it is not wrong to speak of her fellow rulers, that it should be encouraged.
She longs to speak of her siblings at length. To tell stories of each of them from spending their youth in Narnia.
She wants to tell of Peter's bravery, his overprotectiveness, his ability to never make her feel too old to ask for a hug. Pete taught her how to properly wield a sword when she was ten while he wielded the patience of a saint. Of Susan's soft voice, her gentle fingers, her ability to weave intricate braids into her siblings' hair. Su never complained when Hazel would slip into her bed on nights that shadows seemed too long and dark, merely cuddling her with a hummed lullaby. Of Edmund's wit and strict sense of justice, his vicious streak when it comes to defending his family. Ed once sliced the finger off of a foreign dignitary for daring to let his hand drift south while dancing with her during a ball when she was fifteen. Of Lucy's contagious laughter, her made up songs, her nimble feet. Luc would take her to dance with dryads on rainy days, gracefully moving between the trees.
Hazel wants to make sure that her siblings aren't forgotten in their absence. She wants to make sure that their memory is eternal, that everyone will know them still upon their return.
As she stands on the balcony of her rooms, staring at the stars, she's unable to stop the tears running down her face. She has never been separated from all of her siblings at once, especially not for such an extended period of time. She can't decide if she regrets not attending the hunt for the coveted White Stag or if she regrets not blocking off the gates of Cair Paravel to keep the monarchs from leaving.
"Your Majesty."
The High Queen is unable to suppress a flinch as she startles at the intrusion. Whipping around, she automatically clasps the knife that always sits on her hip, her other gift from Father Christmas on that first holiday in Narnia.
"I apologize, I did not mean to surprise you." It takes her a moment to register that the intruder is in fact her betrothed. She sheathes her blade. "You did not appear in the parlor after dinner, I was worried."
"Apologies, Prince Leopold, I got carried away in my thoughts. I should have joined you or at least sent word of my absence." Hazel straightens, quickly wiping the remnants of tears from her cheeks.
"There is no need for apologies. I merely wanted to see that you were alright. I should have announced my presence sooner. Or not have entered your chambers at all." The older man suddenly looks sheepish, face reddening slightly as he reaches up to rub the back of his neck. "Your door was already open."
"No worries, I haven't yet retired. We may still attend our nightly ritual in the parlor if you wish?"
The Prince stares at her for a moment, eyes lingering on her face, before shaking his head. "No, I do not wish to interrupt your evening more than I already have. I apologize once again for intruding."
It's as he turns to leave that Hazel finds her voice once more. "It's no intrusion." There's a pause as the Prince turns to face her. It's only the decades she has spent ruling over a country that keep her from fidgeting under his penetrating gaze. She gestures toward her sitting room. "Would you like to stay for a while?"
There's a hesitant expression on Leopold's face. It's just as she's sure that he will refuse that he nods, gesturing for her to lead the way.
The awkward silence between them returns once they are seated, neither sure of what to say. Hazel feels as if she should be embarrassed that he had found her crying, but can't find it in herself to feel such in relation to mourning the absence of her family.
"I apologize again for my absence this evening, Prince Leopold." She finally settles on another apology when she can think of nothing else to say.
"Please, Your Majesty, there is no need to apologize. I didn't mean to sound a grievance by mentioning such, I had just been worried that something may have happened."
She looks away from him when the sincerity in his gaze begins to make her feel hot. She stares at her lap, willing the flush to clear from her face. It's then that the reason for her initial absence in the parlor crosses her mind. Her lashes feel wet once more.
"Some days are just harder than others, I suppose." Hazel hastily wipes a stray tear before turning to the Prince once more. Now that she's spoken, she finds it difficult to stop. "Today is Edmund's birthday. He's twenty-seven and no one has said a word! I have missed two of my brother's birthdays and I can't even speak about him because everyone thinks the mention of him will cause me to explode. Nobody will say his name. King Edmund the Just! A King of Narnia and no one will acknowledge his birthday. Queen Lucy the Valiant! High Queen Susan the Gentle! High King Peter the Magnificent!" There's a break in her voice here as she chokes back a sob. "They sat on their thrones for fifteen years and now everyone seems to want to forget about them. As if my siblings have never existed!"
Suddenly, an arm twines around her shoulders and she finds herself tugged into a firm chest. Hazel's not sure when Leopold joined her on her chaise, but she's grateful for his comfort all the same.
"Every morning I wake and the first thing I do is pray to Aslan and look through my spyglass in hopes that I will be able to see them. Every night I do the same before crying myself to sleep." Her words are emphasized by the sobs she cries now. Callused but gentle hands rub her back and stroke her hair as Leopold rocks them back and forth. Her trembling fingers curl into the fabric of his tunic, clutching him as she would a lifeline.
"I cannot imagine what you are going through, Your Majesty, but I am sure that it is pain that I would not wish on my worst enemy." His voice is strained, as if he's holding back his own tears. "I wish that I could offer a solution to all of your problems, my dear."
They stay in the position, wound tightly together, for a long time. Hazel is unsure of how much time has passed when she finally pulls herself away, it could have been minutes or hours. What she is sure of is the tremendous weight that has been lifted off of her chest, released by her weeping and the first true touch of comfort she's experienced since the full responsibility of her kingdom fell to her.
"Apologies, Prince Leopold. I seem to have forgotten myself for a moment." She straightens, scrubbing a hand over her wet cheeks. A larger hand captures her wrist to stop the action.
"Just Leopold, please Your Majesty. And there's no remorse needed for simply missing your family." Earnest green eyes stare at her imploringly as a thumb strokes the inside of her wrist.
"Hazel, then." She barely manages the words, voice hoarse from tears. A soft smile curves the Prince's lips upwards.
"A lovely name." The hand not gripping her wrist reaches up, fingers wiping away the remainder of her outburst. "Would you like to speak of them? Your siblings?"
The butterflies that Hazel felt on her original meeting with Leopold return as the place behind her heart warms in newfound affection.
"More than anything."
-
The latter half of the Prince's visit is much more memorable than the former. Rather than attending meals and nightly awkward chats, the couple finds themselves in each other's company more often than not. Hazel takes Leopold on rides around the kingdom, introducing him to as many of her people as possible. They spend afternoons exploring the wood and evenings dancing along the beach. Children of the kingdom follow them on their morning walks, always cajoling Narnian folk songs out of the High Queen, that the Prince's eyes always seem to light up when she sings only encourages her. Late nights are spent in front of a fire with warm drinks, whispering stories of their childhoods, getting to know each other better under the light of the moon.
At the end of the month-long visit, Hazel finds herself dreading the six weeks until he will return for their wedding. She has come to enjoy the presence of the foreign prince, finding happiness in him that she hasn't felt since last in with her brothers and sisters.
"I will count down the days until I may return to your embrace." Leopold grips her hands tightly in his own as they stand at the port. It seems that he will be the last to board his ship.
"You'll write?" Hazel hates the uncertainty in her tone, unbecoming of a queen.
"Of course, my dear, everyday if I'm able. You'll be inundated with letters from me. You'll tire of me before I even manage to return to you."
A chuckle leaves her lips at his declaration. "I don't think I could tire of you in such a short time. I'm beginning to wonder if I could tire of you in an entire lifetime."
"A sentiment that I assure you is mutual." He squeezes her hands lightly. "I shall see you soon, then we won't have to part in such a way again."
A flush creeps up the High Queen's neck as she nods. Before the courage can leave her, she raises on her toes, pressing a chaste kiss to Prince Leopold's cheek. "For safe travels."
The grin on the older man's face widens. "I shall carry it with me until you are in my arms again, darling."
All too soon, the couple must pull away from one another and part. High Queen Hazel stays at the harbor as the ship sets sail, waving off her betrothed.
It's not until she lays down to sleep that night that she realizes she had not checked her spyglass in three days.