VII

EDMUND

Edmund was suffocating. Stuffed in some tightly woven suit made of the least breathable fabric his sister could find. Susan was fussing over him, straightening his collar and smoothing his errant hair. All the while muttering that he looked dashing and to stop fidgeting. Lucy had agreed laughingly from his right. Peter watched the exchange from behind Susan and they shared a grimace of mutual discomfort over her shoulder.

It wasn't like he hadn't been dressed up before – Narnia had many ceremonies, banquets and balls to commemorate many holidays and events. However, it had never been to this level nor on such a hot day. He felt like a trussed chicken which had been thrown into the oven for Christmas dinner. All his complaints were made on deaf ears and were overshadowed by Susans insistence that they look their best.

All four siblings were dressed in rich velvets and beaded cuffs; clothes which Susan had seen to design personally for their torment. They had been primped, pressed and polished until they gleamed and – under the watchful eye of the eldest sister – were on their best behaviour.

Well, he amended mentally, most of them were on their best behaviour. Lucy jittered impatiently to his right, her foot tapping as she glared up the cobbled road. He needn't guess at the source of her aggravation. There was a meeting of the Healers Guild this morning, a meeting which Lucy was sore to miss.

Susan stopped fussing for a moment to scold her, "Stop that, Lucy."

"I can't," Lucy complained sullenly, "I'm missing a very important meeting."

"Tough luck, it's your job to be here. I'm sure the Guild can fill you in on the meeting minutes later," The 'later' was punctuated with a harsh tug to Edmunds collar.

He jerked backwards and choked out, "Argh! Not so hard, Susan!"

"Don't be such a baby," Susan scoffed but after dusting off his shoulders one last time, she let him be and focused on Peter instead.

Edmund ghosted a hand over his throat, hoping that the friction had not left a mark. He didn't want to have to explain to his men how he had gotten it. There was no battle wound more mortifying than one inflicted by one's sister.

Lucy continued her nervous fidgeting which had now progressed to fingernail chewing. Susan wasn't going to like that one.

Gently, Edmund lowered her fingers. Lucy's eyes snapped to him, her blue irises wide and full of nervous energy.

"Relax," He said soothingly, "Once we've been introduced to the ambassador, I'll help you make an escape."

Lucy sighed but her shoulders relaxed minimally, "I don't understand why we must all be here. This is an ambassadors visit, not a royal one."

"That is true," Edmund acknowledged and he scanned the tree line boredly, "but the ambassador is a noble and the people of Calormen are quite proud. Anything less than a royal address could be seen as a slight."

"It still seems like a lot of effort."

Edmund smiled playfully and nudged her with his shoulder, "You only think that because you have somewhere to be."

Lucy hummed absentmindedly; her eyes fixed in the distance. Edmund followed them to their left, where a line of Cair Paravel's staff stood vigil. They stood in a row on the edge of the stairs and were clearly uncomfortable under the waves of heat.

"Maybe it is a little overkill," Edmund amended.

Lucy smiled, "So, how do you plan to free us?"

Edmund thought for a moment, his eyes still trained on the line of staff. He honestly had no idea how to get around Susan without causing damage to her campaign for peace with Calormen. She would never forgive him if he did, not after the past year she spent working on it.

He needed something subtle, that would not offend the ambassador. Something that Susan would not expect nor blame him for.

Before he could think too much of it, a glint caught his eyesight. Something was moving in the woods, just before the tree line.

"Edmund?" Lucy pressed.

Edmund didn't say anything as he gawked across the cobblestone, struck by an unexpected image he couldn't have conceived.

A Centaur had emerged from the throng of thick trees, his back as straight and proud as the woods he stood beside. His figure was misshapen, however, for he was carrying something on his back. Something which was holding on for dear life with both arms and legs.

Not something. Someone.

It was clear it was a person when a beam of sunlight caught their figure. The length of their arms and legs were definitely human, though the size in comparison to the Centaurs body seemed like a child's.

They stopped just before the end of the tree cover and the rider clumsily dismounted, falling onto the grass in a heap.

"What in Aslans name are they doing?" Edmund muttered. His eyes scrunched as he tried to focus on the figures faces.

"What's going on?" Susan asked from Edmund's left. She was also squinting at the figures in the shade.

Peter joined them, relieved at no longer being the centre of Susan's attention, "Is that a Daughter of Eve riding a centaur?"

The rider stumbled up from the grass, politely declining the Centaur's offered hand. Edmund deduced from the height and figure that his brother was right; it was a woman. She stood steady at last, bouncing on the balls of her feet nervously. Her head bobbed between Cair Paravel and the Centaur, clearly deciding whether to stay out of sight and – most likely – out of trouble. But it was too late for her, the sun reached between the leaves to graze her hair which responded with a familiar bronze gleam. He knew exactly who she was.

Edmund gritted his teeth, "It is."

"It's Grace," Lucy whispered.

Before Edmund could think twice, he was marching down the steps and across the cobblestone road. Shoes scraping in time with the mismatched rhythm pounding inside his skull. His back burned with the stares of siblings and castle staff. He didn't care.

Word had reached him that morning of her escape attempt. At the time, he chose to let it go, narrowing it down to a lapse in judgement due to poor sleep and stress. But now it was clear to Edmund that her actions were premeditated.

What was the saying? You give someone an inch and they take a mile.

When he reached the trees, Grace caught sight of his rapidly approaching form. Her eyes were wide with fear, and she had the correct idea of looking afraid of him.

Casys bowed to her right, arm pressed across his torso solemnly.

Edmund nodded to him stiffly, only slightly relieved that Grace had not slipped her guard amongst her other rule breakings.

At that thought, his eyes returned to rest heavily on hers. Grace stared back evenly; she was not trembling in fear but he was certain she had been caught unaware by his presence; she was stuck like a deer in arrow sight.

It was a slow minute of coy innocence against blazing fury – before Grace realised what he was waiting for. Her cheeks coloured sheepishly and she instinctively dropped into a misshapen curtsy.

"Your Majesty," She whispered.

Edmunds skin prickled with barely concealed rage, "Rise."

Grace arose but her eyes remained steadfastly on the dirt. An action which met with his approval.

"What were you doing?" He asked.

Casys tried to intervene, "Your Majesty, please-"

Edmund held a silent hand to Casys, "I was asking Grace."

At the mention of her name, Grace looked up. Her eyes were still wide and fearful, but there was a determination within them.

"It was hot in the kitchens, sir. Casys and I were getting some fresh air," She answered.

"How far did you go from Cair Paravel?" Edmund questioned.

Grace looked between he and Casys helplessly, "I don't know."

"If you had to guess, how many miles?"

"Miles?"

Edmund huffed, "The unit of measurement used for distance."

Her eyebrow quirked, "I prefer to use kilometres."

He mirrored her stubborn expression, "Then how far, in kilometres."

"At least three, don't you think Casys?" She turned to him questioningly, her tone was far too light for the situation.

The Centaur was staring at her with disapproving eyes, "I think we strayed too far," he said resolutely before returning to Edmund, "It is my fault, sire. The Daughter of Eve saw I was uneasy-"

"No," Grace cut across him, "You aren't going to take the blame for me Casys; it was my idea to get some fresh air and it was not entirely unselfish either."

"Let him speak," Edmund sharply admonished her.

Grace froze, her mouth stuck between her next words and the indignation of being silenced.

"We'd strayed to the meadows beyond the end of the grounds, on the way to Beruna," Casys explained.

Edmund hummed noncommittally, his eyes bearing heavily upon Graces when he asked, "Such a distance from the castle. It's a wonder you came back."

Grace bristled under his look. Her eyes beheld the ground and she refused to look anywhere else. "It wasn't by choice," She muttered.

"Pardon?"

Casys cut between them again, "There were travellers on the road; The Calormene ambassador and his entourage."

The ambassador! Edmund thought alarmingly. His head flicked back to the castle in panic. When his eyes adjusted to the light he heaved a sigh of relief at the sight of his siblings. They were still lined up in a pristine row, the only difference was that Lucy had moved to stand beside Susan in his absence.

If Casys and Grace had seen the ambassador within the last hour then it wouldn't be long before his arrival. Edmund was running out of time before Susan skinned and wore him as a coat.

The image horrified him. He shook it off, turning back to Grace with a severe expression, "Whatever the reason, in future you are not to leave the grounds of Cair Paravel under any circumstances."

Grace opened her mouth but Edmund cut her off with a pointed finger, "Under any circumstances or I will confine you to your room and place you under 24-hour watch."

Her clear blue eyes turned skyward in disbelief, "Please, the theatrics don't suit you. We both know Lucy wouldn't allow that."

"Queen Lucy," Edmund corrected thornily, "Will listen to the advice of her advisors as necessary. As it happens, however, you are not under Queen Lucy's jurisdiction, you are under mine."

Grace stopped short, "What?"

Thrilled that he'd seemingly pulled the rug from under her, Edmund began to drill further, "One of my duties is to oversee the safety of the castle and all within it. That includes assigning guards, organising watches and if necessary detaining threats."

Grace scoffed, "What kind of a threat am I? I'm not tall, I'm not strong, I'm clearly not heavy either as the only reason I am here is because Casys threatened to throw me over his shoulder if I refused to hop on."

Casys made a disgruntled noise to her left but Grace ignored him.

Edmund supposed he agreed with her. She was right, she posed no physical threat. She barely came to his nose in height and while her figure was a little fuller than usual, she wouldn't be hard to carry. However, it wasn't a physical threat he was worried about.

Since he and his siblings had ascended their thrones near-on thirteen years ago, he had spent a significant amount of time scouring the histories of Narnia - or rather, what was left of them – for information on the White Witch. A quest which came to very little results due to Jadis's censorship throughout her reign. What material was left was biased but Edmund didn't mind. He found it easy to read between the lines of idolisation and determine the truth beneath.

Jadis had used her beauty and charm to wrangle countless Narnians into her clutches and cleave the country into two. Some had gone along with her willingly, believing her words to be truth and her rule to be just. Many others, including himself, had been bewitched with false promises and held under her power by force. Whatever method was used, the results were the same and he knew that there was something to be learned from the experience.

Namely, that beautiful women who dropped into Narnia with no explanation were not to be trusted.

The thought snapped him to the present. Casys had steadfastly defended Grace's actions under the premise she was acting out of care for him. This would have made him wary of her allure if it were not for what Grace had said just a moment ago.

"The only reason I am back is because Casys threatened to throw me over his shoulder if I refused to hop on."

Edmund eyed the Centaur in his peripherals thoughtfully. Anyone bewitched would not be quick to force such a thing. He supposed then, that was a point in favour of Grace not being a witch.

Then again he had taken Grace onto his back and let her ride him. This was frowned upon by centaurs; they were proud beasts, worthy in nature and noble by presence. For them, to take any creature upon their back was considered degrading, except in the gravest circumstances.

If Casys was in his right mind then there must have been something about the ambassador and the entourage that he deemed unsafe enough to remove Grace from the situation.

When he had told Casys to fulfill his duties at any cost, he hadn't realised how seriously the Centaur would take it. Perhaps another conversation about boundaries was in order. The last thing he and his siblings needed was a petition from the centaurs about humans riding them.

But Grace didn't need to know that. In fact, it would probably be better if she continued to think that she could be whisked away the moment she disobeyed his orders.

Grace was staring at him pointedly, eyebrows raised and arms crossed in an unimpressed manner, "Well?"

Edmund leaned forward, undeterred by the pristine glare she was giving him and extremely displeased with her self-assured behaviour. Regardless of the reasoning in her statements, her stubborn nature and disrespect for authority was proving to be a problem. A problem that Edmund was quickly getting tired of.

"I don't think I can make this plainer than I am about to," He spoke severely, "From your entrance into Narnia but a day ago you have shown nothing but obstinance and disrespect for the kindness that we have shown you."

"Do you think it normal for an outsider to reside in the guest wing? Or for a complete stranger to be trusted to handle our food?" He didn't wait for her response, "It is not. Queen Lucy has fought for you every step of the way. Is this how you repay her?"

Edmund shook his head, "If you continue to behave in this manner, I cannot speak to the consequences."

When Edmund finished his speech, his fists were clenched and he was slightly out of breath. He took a moment to gather himself.

When his gaze returned to Grace, he was hit with a gut-wrenching sight. Grace's eyes were wide, bottom rim welling with tears as she bit her lower lip. She stared ahead unseeingly, the guilt-ridden blues childlike and helpless in the wake of his outburst.

Edmund knew the words were true but he was beginning to regret the harshness of his tone. When he moved to apologize, however, Edmund was cut off by the soft crunch of footsteps behind him.

Edmund turned, expecting Lucy or Peter had been sent to retrieve him, only to meet the cross countenance of Queen Susan herself.

Susan stood with her hands folded across her waist, her skirts draped over an arm to keep them from dragging in the dirt. Somehow she managed to look regal amidst the overgrown forest, she even might have been called serene if it weren't for the way her eyebrows dimpled angrily in the middle.

"I've been calling you for over 5 minutes," Susan said in a sugar-coated voice, though it was betrayed by her irritated smile. She paused to nod friendlily to Grace who by now had dropped into a low curtsy.

"I'm a bit busy here, Su," Edmund whispered back, "I'm sure the three of you can handle the ambassador on your own."

Susan acted as if he hadn't spoken. She instructed Casys to take Grace inside and waited until the two had passed before linking her arm through his, "The watch tower has sighted the carriage. You must return to the steps now."

Edmund eyed Grace's retreating form remorsefully as Susan began pulling him back towards Cair Paravel, "That was a very important conversation that you interrupted."

Edmund could hear Susan's internal sigh. "If you're looking for answers, I don't think bullying the girl is the way to get them," She admonished.

"I'll be the judge of that."

Susan pulled them to a stop at the tree line, dropping her skirts and dusting them off as she spoke, "Ed, I'm serious. I've not been in Grace's company long but from what I have seen she seems scared. I don't believe that making her more so will yield the results you're after."

"Then what will?" Edmund asked.

"You need to ask her the right questions, in the right way."

He shook his head in disbelief, "Oh, is that all?"

Susan hummed thoughtfully, "You all remember so little of that other world. What did Lucy say Grace called it? Earth?"

She was pulling him again, across the cobblestone road in faster strides. When Edmund heard the dull roar of carriage wheels on the road, he matched her pace. If they didn't cross quickly they would be crushed.

"Does it matter what she called it?" He grumbled, pulling Susan across the road urgently. The rotating crunch of wheels were getting louder but he could not yet see the carriage.

"My point is," Susan sighed, "That I hold more memories of that other place. If you are truly concerned about the legitimacy of her story, I am more than happy to conduct my own questioning."

Edmund perked up at the idea. If his sister held the knowledge he desired and she could correlate Grace's story, he would feel more comfortable about letting Grace return to Spare Oom – should they find it.

His original thought was to write to Mr Tumnus for any information on the land of Spare Oom and the mysterious wardrobe which transported them to Narnia. If anyone would know anything about it, it would be the Faun who had first discovered Lucy in the Western Woods.

But if his sister recalled the exact place this 'wardrobe' was located, it would make matters much easier for them.

"Why couldn't you just tell me all you know and then I can continue the questioning myself?" He asked.

Susan shook her head subtly, "It doesn't work like that. I often remember things when I see or hear something that reminds me of that place and my mind doesn't retain the memory for long."

Edmund frowned in annoyance and his feet planted against each stone step a little louder than necessary, "What use could it be then?"

Susan didn't entertain the remark, "I will organise a tea with her over the coming week and we'll see what becomes of it."

"Between your duties and your plans for the Calormene Ambassador, I don't see how you'll have the time," Edmund quipped.

"Your duties alone provide you with even less time to interrogate her," Susan returned, "Yet somehow, you manage."

She lodged him in line next to Lucy, who was eyeing them both with a familiar smile.

Edmund stewed on the point thoughtfully and Susan began fussing over him again until - at last – the ambassador's carriage rounded the corner and into sight. He shrugged her off, "I have a counter agreement. You conduct your interrogations and I'll conduct mine."

Beside him, her smile held in stoic pleasantness as if she had been carved from marble, but it was not the smile he was watching. Her stormy blue eyes crinkled slightly at the corners and their depths gave way to the waves of her frustration beneath. The appearance was odd and contradictory, as if the finest craftsman had chiselled water from an unyielding stone.

"And if I disagree?" Susan asked.

Edmund took her arm smoothly in his. His easy smile contrasted against the heavy stubborn look of his bark-coloured eyes. They mirrored each other in steady, quiet determination as if they were crafted from the very same stone.

"I signed the decree; therefore I am responsible for her," Edmund said resolutely, "We will conduct our assessments throughout the next fortnight and reconvene to discuss our findings."

Susan hid a sigh behind her greeting wave as the plump ambassador wobbled from the carriage, "I'm sure the plan would work a lot better if you stopped viewing it like a battle strategy."

Edmund scoffed and began to lead them down the stairs, "Keep telling yourself that."