XXI

EDMUND

Out Of The Woods – Taylor Swift

Edmund didn't know what he was thinking when he took Margrove's place. When he entered the line at the exact point he dreaded most.

He had been watching amongst the crowd, unwilling to join the circle at the beginning. It had been a long time since his last Long Trot and that had been under the safe watch of treetops and starlight. Completing the Long Trot in front of the entire court was another matter entirely. Yet here he stood, in replacement of Grace's partner.

He couldn't pretend like he hadn't noticed, like he hadn't been watching her from the corner of his eye all night. He never let her out of his sight, half out fear of what she would do, half in awe in what she could do.

To attempt a Long Trot with human legs was no meagre feat, to attempt a Long Trot in a dress was something else entirely. But she managed it, easily flitting between partners in practiced step. Her warm hair bobbing gently with the beat, holding steadfastly against the rapid movements of its owner.

There was a stab of something, envy, he had not felt it for a long time and found it difficult to remember it's green embrace. What would a King need to envy for? He held every possession he could possibly conceive, except that which another is naturally gifted with. That gift which Grace seemed to be named for.

She was graceful now, weaving towards him despite the onlookers in the circle. There is a rule in the Long Trot, unspoken but unbreakable. You do not stop for anything. This would not be the first bone the dance had claimed, and he doubted that it would be the last. If Grace had reached the end and found her partner missing, she would be ejected and whilst Edmund had no difficulties in mind with accepting that, there was a part of him that just could not stomach it.

He cursed that part as she grew closer; what was stopping her from ejecting them both from the dance when she saw him? From walking away in that annoyingly stubborn way and making him regret joining the dance to begin with. It was moments like this which were the reason why he did not rely on his gut. If one did not know the precise outcome of a situation, one should not venture into it willingly.

Grace passed a faun, her beaming smile glittering in the torchlight. A smile which dropped quickly when she laid eyes on her partner, Edmund.

She froze, brow furrowed in confusion as she searched the room for her partner. They landed on a point past his shoulder – where he was sure his sister was tending to the Faun's wounds – and flickered back to him. Her wide blues continued to flicker back and forth dizzyingly until the connection was made.

They returned to him, but Grace did not say anything. She merely stared, caught between the moment and whatever she would choose to do next. Edmund tried to appear unthreatening, not moving on the chance that she would dart away.

Somewhere in Edmund's mind, he wondered why he even cared. If she left, then he wouldn't have to dance with her. Surely the fear of humiliation was not what spurred all this? At the thought something tugged at his centre, the feeling almost threw him off balance.

Movement caught the corner of his eyes; the dancers were finishing up their agreed upon movements. Panic set into his fingertips, buzzing uncomfortably under the skin, urging him into motion. But what motion could he possibly do? It was not as if they had discussed this beforehand and now that he thought on it he had no idea what she and Margrove had done to begin with.

Grace hadn't moved a single muscle, eyes still boring into his, face still set in an apprehensive frown. She looked like she was about to bolt, one foot half behind her ready to drop and sprint.

His fingers inched towards her, the movement slight and unnoticeable to anyone else, but him. Edmund wanted her to stay, that much was certain, but he did not know how to make it happen without scaring her off.

Behind her a Grove Dryad began moving forwards, heading towards the still frozen form of Grace at headlong speed. Edmund didn't decide what to do next and he did not realise he had done it until she was leaning over him in the air.

Edmund's buzzing fingertips gripped at the slippery green fabric as he lowered her. When Grace dropped unceremoniously on the other side, the dull thud knocked them both from their stupor. Her face cracked a small smile as he released her waist and she mouthed something that he couldn't follow.

Edmund nodded politely – assuming it was some form of a thank you on her lips. Either that or he had just agreed to sell his soul. In that moment, he didn't care.

The dance continued normally after that. Edmund found his rhythm easily, despite his initial nerves at the thought of dancing in front of the entire court. When Grace reached him the next turn, she was smiling brilliantly, a picture of wild beauty in a gown of green and hairs falling from her elaborate updo in stray auburn strands.

Edmund returned her smile genuinely, unable to defend against its contagious nature as he took her waist and spun her in a dizzying blur and sent her off again. His mind followed her as she traipsed the circle in his peripheral vision, but this time it was not for fear that she would run away, but rather in anticipation of her reaching him again.

When the music finally dulled and the circle was breathless, Grace dropped into a low curtsy and excused herself.

Edmund tried not to feel disappointed; he should have expected no different considering their limited acquaintance.

A hand slapped him on the back with a little more force than necessary. Edmund grunted as he turned to the ever clear blue eyes of his older brother.

"Where have you been?" Edmund whispered urgently, "Susan has been looking for you for the past half of an hour."

"Here and there," Peter said airily, "Seeing to the wellbeing of the Crown and it's safety is no short task."

Edmund raised a brow at the slight sarcasm, "I thought that was my job."

Peter smiled in that unnervingly easy manner he always did, "So it is, but let's just say I saw an opportunity and took advantage."

This peaked Edmund's attention; he stood to full alert as he probed his brother for more information.

Peter waved him off, "It's nothing of consequence now. The matter has been sorted and both parties have left the situation understanding one another."

Edmund waited for the remainder of the sentence, as Peter never visited without some ulterior motive or speech in mind. Peter, however, just looked at him calmly, eyes forever holding the challenging look he always carried with him.

"Were you in need of something, brother?" Edmund asked.

Peter's grin grew cheeky, "I just wanted to congratulate you on your efforts, brother. Saving a damsel in distress from missing her first dance in Narnia. What a chivalrous knight you have proven to be!"

Edmund bristled under the eyes of the crowd who had turned at the High King's outburst.

Peter did not stop, "And where is your lady? Surely you have not worn her out with a dance and not offered her refreshment afterwards?"

"Pete, stop it," Edmund whispered.

To his credit, his brother did stop. Peter took both of Edmund's shoulders as he led him towards the terrace where Grace had disappeared.

"Sorry, I did not mean to embarrass you," Peter apologised, "I just wanted to tell you that I'm proud."

Edmund stared at Peter in bewilderment.

"It was good of you, to step in when Margrove fell," Peter continued.

"I had no other choice," Edmund countered, "The Long Trot was a gift for our Sister's birthday. Imagine the slight on her if it went awry."

Peter shook his head, "I'm sure that Su would not have thought it so."

"It does not matter if she did, it's about what the court thinks," Edmund grimaced, eyes catching a group of noblemen gathered at the edge of the hall. They were laughing loudly at some joke, goblets filled with rich southern wine. He added, "If enough of them talk, there's a chance the troupe may never attempt it again. We've already had one Long Trot go amiss; a second would surely finish it."

Peter hummed agreeably, also eyeing the group of noblemen warily. They were good men, but both Kings understood the voice of the crowd far outweighed the voice of few. If enough of the court spoke against the Long Trot, it would be difficult to change their minds.

When they reached the far wall, the elder King swiped a goblet from the table and took a sip.

"It can't have been easy," He edged, "To dance with someone you hate."

"I don't hate her," Edmund asserted.

Peter raised his brows challengingly, "No, you just abhor her existence."

Edmund glared at him, "I do not."

"Oh?" Peter prodded, "Have you told her that? Because she is most definitely under that impression."

"I shouldn't have to. I do not owe her an explanation."

"Our sisters appear to think differently."

Edmund sighed, "I'm well aware of their feelings on the matter."

"But you don't agree?" Peter probed, "It is rare of you to not see the reality of a situation."

Edmund rubbed his eyes tiredly. In truth, he thought he was in the right at the beginning, but as time passed and Grace got under his and his families skin, he was starting to feel the pressure towards the other alternative. "I will admit this once and only to you, Pete. Not a word to Lucy or Susan," He said lowly.

Peter made the motion of crossing his heart, eyes in earnest as he waited for Edmund's confession.

"I may regret some of my actions after Grace's arrival," Edmund admitted. The words were a release he had not expected; but with the relief of letting go of the fear, Edmund realised how real the thought was. He had fought against Grace for so long, for what? The safety of his family? Even Edmund could not substantiate scaring her into solitary confinement as reasonable any longer. There was something more at play, something Edmund was too fearful to delve deeper into.

Peter regarded at him with warm understanding. He motioned towards the marble archway which Grace had disappeared under, "I think you'll find that now is the perfect time to make amends."