Edmund hears her breath whoosh out as her shoulder blades connect with his leather breastplate. She recovers quickly, but before she fully regains her balance she spins and attempts to swerve around him to get back outside. Unfortunately for her, Orieus has trained him far too well for that. He slings an arm around her waist, lifts her off her feet, and takes a step into the cave in one quick movement. As soon as she's on solid ground she twists out of his grip and stumbles a few steps further into the cave.
"Princess!" he says sharply, not wanting to waste any more energy fighting— especially after a long day of slogging through slush and hiking up and down mountain trails. The girl inhales sharply and whips around to face him, backing up until she remembers the Talking Horse.
With the fire behind Edmund can't make out her face, still shrouded in the darkness of her cloak, but her head swivels back and forth between Edmund and Phillip. Then her attention shifts suddenly to his right, and Edmund knows Adan must have arrived. The Wolf brushes his shoulder against the side of Edmund's leg as he steps up to the threshold, and the girl shifts to put the wall of the cave at her back.
"We're not here to harm you," Edmund tells her, holding his hands out placatingly. Her head swivels slowly from Edmund to Adan, and then to Phillip across the fire from her.
"You're Narnians," she gasps, sounding out of breath. It's not a question, but Edmund nods anyway. She backs up against the wall then, letting her head fall back and her eyes close. Edmund holds out a hand toward Adan, warning him to stay by the entrance, and then takes a careful step forward.
"You are Princess Serena?" Adan huffs at Edmund's question, and the girl looks at the Wolf warily before her quiet 'yes'. Praise Aslan. There was some small part of him that needed the confirmation, but Adan was right. No other humans would be this far into the Northern Giants' territory. By the terms of Narnia's treaty with the giants, Edmund probably shouldn't even be on this side of the border.
"Good," Edmund mutters to himself. He steps further into the cave and the princess stands up straighter. Edmund ignores this as he takes in her appearance— finely made clothes, but the velvet cloak isn't nearly thick enough for this weather— and then crosses the rest of the distance from the entrance to Phillip. The roughly circular cave is big enough for the Horse to fit comfortably inside with a bit of room to spare, but even with the small fire it's nowhere near as warm as Edmund would prefer. The sooner we get back to Narnia the better.
He snatches up the pack he'd left with Phillip earlier. The princess finally sinks to the floor, knees pulled tightly to her chest and back presses to the stone wall as she stares anxiously toward the exit. Edmund glances there too and sees that Adan has stretched himself across the narrow opening, leaving his head and shoulders inside the cave as he studies the girl. Adan would probably stay there all night, Edmund knew, ignoring the cold and slush. The Wolf was utterly loyal but still seemed to feel the need to prove himself after all his time in service to Jadis.
Edmund mentally shakes himself, pushing all thoughts of that time aside as he stands, taking the whole pack with him. It only takes a few strides to cross the cave. He kneels before the girl— blocking her view of the exit— to continue sifting through the supplies in his bag.
"Here," he says, dropping a blanket, a water skin, and some dried meat into a pile beside the girl. She glances at the supplies, then peers up at him suspiciously. He feels his impatience rising by the time she finally shifts the pile into her lap with a quiet 'thank you'.
"You must be half frozen shod like that," Phillip says abruptly. Edmund is confused at first. After so many years with the Horse as one of his closest companions, he was still occasionally caught off guard by the odd, Horse-ish way he phrased things. When the princess tucks her slippered feet under her skirt, though, he understands.
"Wait," Edmund says, unease suddenly replacing impatience. The temperatures were warm enough when the sun was out, but it's well past dark and frigid cold now. The Corsecans weren't clear about how long she'd been missing and the tracks they'd followed earlier had been just hers and on foot the entire time.
Edmund prods at the hem of the girl's half-frozen cloak. She must be at least in the first stages of frostbite already. Or trench foot, he thinks, pausing for a moment to wonder why that particular phrase gives him a sense of deja vu. The princess tucks her feet further under her damp clothing, though, drawing his attention back, and he's close enough that he can see the color in her cheeks grow bright. A frustrated sigh escapes Edmund.
"I'm trying to help you," he nearly growls as he pulls his hand back and runs it through his hair. He's never had Peter's patience for the opposite sex, and— with the exception of his sisters— prefers to avoid them altogether. The coy smiles, the batting of eyelashes, the vying for favor and attention— it's always been frustrating and Edmund has no time for it. After traipsing through the mountain passes all day, he just wants to get this over with and start back for Narnia.
"How did you manage all this time?" Phillip asks quietly, voicing one of the concerns all three had discussed, especially since crossing her lone trail this morning. Edmund glances over at Phillip. The Horse, his head lowered, stares at the girl with concern and shakes out his mane. Phillip had objected to staying in the cave while Adan and Edmund had circled around behind the girl– at times carefully herding her with broken branches and low growls from Adan– toward the cave, but Edmund knew it was mostly posturing. Even ten years after the White Witch's defeat, he knew the cold brought back dark memories for those that lived through Jadis's winter reign. Edmund's hand strays to the old scar on his abdomen absently.
"All this time," the princess repeats. The princess looks past Edmund's shoulder at the cave entrance with a scrunched forehead and pursed lips.
"You were supposed to arrive at Cair Paravel four days ago," Edmund grumbles, pulling his hand from the old scar. Returning his attention to the pack in front of him, Edmund pulls out the extra trousers and a woolen shirt and socks. He had been prepared for his trek to take several days, but he hadn't planned on finding the princess so ill-prepared herself. And has she also addled her head somehow?
"Have you hit your head?" Edmund asks aloud, deciding that really does bear considering. Perhaps she fell somewhere along the rocky mountain trails, he thinks, but with the hood of her cloak still up he can't tell.
"What?" she responds, gaze snapping back to Edmund.
"Dizziness, confusion, blurry vision?" The girl searches Edmund's face, her dark eyes narrowed.
"No," she says slowly, shaking her head. Edmund nods once. Perhaps she's just bad at keeping track of such things. Girls never are reliable about distances and time. Can't keep a map in their heads. Edmund shifts his focus back to the slightly frozen hem of her skirt. She slides her arms around her legs, pulling them close.
"And your feet?" he inquires. She looks down, following his gaze.
"Cold," she answers flatly. Edmund, poised before her still, sighs and mutters a may I before gesturing at the skirt covering her slippered feet. She slowly tilts her legs to the side and pulls her skirt enough to expose the wet and muddied slippers. Silk, Edmund notices, biting back any comments on her choice of footwear.
He focuses instead on her ankles and lower legs. The skin is red, but not overly mottled or waxy as he'd expect with frostbite, and not peeling or deteriorated from the damp. After pulling off his gloves, Edmund carefully removes one of her slippers.
"Any numbness?" he asks, prodding the cool skin of her foot with no small amount of confusion now, having expected much worse.
"No," the princess snaps. She pulls her foot back, and Edmund looks up to see her frowning at him now.
"I'm not an invalid," she adds icily. "One afternoon in the woods isn't—"
"One afternoon?" Edmund interrupts. Her mouth snaps shut, her eyes glaring at him still in annoyance, but then he sees her expression shift to something closer to anxiety as she turns her head to look at the cave entrance again. He follows her gaze, still seeing nothing but Adan and the dark night beyond. Adan peers at the girl, and Edmund sees his nostrils flare as he inhales deeply.
"How long have you been alone?" Adan asks slowly. The princess drops her gaze to the Wolf, then glances at Edmund. He simply raises an eyebrow and waves a hand toward Adan.
"Late this morning, I think," she tells the Wolf. Edmund is glad for her direct answer – that she didn't defer to him and ignore the Talking Animal as some foreigners were wont to do – but the answer is not quite what he'd expected. He shares a look with Adan. If she had been with her guards up until this morning, why had hers been the only footprints they'd found? And why were they so far to the northeast of Corsecant that she'd been able to get half a day's journey through the twisting mountain passes beyond the border of her own country?
"And where are your men now?" Edmund questions. Something about this entire scenario doesn't add up, and Edmund's gut is telling him that there's more to the story than what the king of Corsecant had revealed in his letters to Peter.