None of it makes sense. Serena wracks her brain, trying to remember if Burke had said anything further about their route. There's nothing, though— nothing that she can dredge up, anyway. Why hadn't they crossed the river? In fact, had they even been anywhere near a river when Sacha had told her to run?
"We found your trail on the eastern border of Corsecan," Sir Edmund says. Serena frowns, knowing the eastern border is not at all where she was supposed to be. She glances up at Edmund, but his gaze is on Adan's tracks. He shifts his weight and repositions the pack on his back with, and Serena can tell he's anxious to keep moving. Knowing now that they're in the Giants' lands, she feels the same urge to get to the border. She starts to move forward again, Edmund returning his grip to her arm.
As they walk, she tries to focus on not falling, but mostly she's straining to remember more details of the past few days. Who actually saw the destroyed bridge? When did they depart from the river road? Why hadn't they passed through any towns? And why hadn't Sacha said anything sooner?
"And there are no mountain passes in Narnia," Edmund says after they've been walking for some time. Serena blinks hard, trying to figure out why he's mentioning this now. She looks around the dark woods, but she can't actually see the mountains anymore. "Except into Archenland," he adds, "but that's in the south." Serena nods, and she can feel a blush burning up her neck and towards her freezing cheeks when she realizes why he's telling her this.
She'd had plenty of geography lessons— such things were part of a well-rounded education, even for a princess— but she'd never thought the information was at all pertinent or worth her full attention. Composure, poise, dance, conversation, household management, those were the lessons she thought mattered. After all, until a month ago she'd assumed it would be her brother's lot to deal with other countries, not hers.
Now, though, she can't help but feel embarrassed at just how little she knows of anything useful, and that this knight has clearly recognized her deficiency. She can dance a waltz flawlessly, but she barely even walk in a straight line out here. She can plan a dinner party or ball with ease, but she hasn't the slightest idea how to navigate a mountain. She can recognize any number of books or artworks, but she hadn't even known what country she was in. Her skill set just doesn't translate to anything useful out here in the mountains, and she feels like more of a useless burden with each stumbling step.
These mountains, she thinks with disgust. She should have known– or at least guessed– where they were. But this was never the plan, she rationalizes. Her father had said they would go south across the Selon River and south into Narnia, the same route all their ambassadors travel. It had sounded so simple— just a few days to reach the border of Corsecant and straight off to Narnia's capitol. Even when Burke said they'd have to take a detour, she hadn't thought anything of it, and she'd actually been glad to put off leaving her homeland.
What a fool. Why hadn't she noticed anything? Surely there had been signs. But she hadn't questioned— or paid attention— to anything of any consequence. She'd been so busy sulking and keeping to herself that she'd noticed nothing. And, she realizes, she's still concerned wholly with herself, isn't she?
"Why were you in Corsecant?" Serena asks abruptly. Sir Edmund glances at her, just the barest movement of his eyes before he focuses on their path again.
"You were late," he says, a bit snappishly. Serena tenses, wishing she hadn't said anything at all, but then he sighs and continues in a softer tone. "Most of the Western Wood had already been searched. We were going to follow the eastern border to the northern border, and then go further inland and come south again." Serena nods, trying to summon a mental map of her own country and also trying not to seem too out of breath at their current pace. She's not sure the knight has realized that his agitation has sped up his steps, but she doesn't want to bring attention to it.
"We met with a few Corsecans near the border," Edmund continues after another minute. "They were supposed to search the interior of your country while Orieus and Peter continued in Lantern Waste." Serena nods again. She doesn't recognize the Narnian places, but they must be near the southern border of Corsecant if they were searching for her there, and perhaps those names he mentioned were the Narnian kings? She scours her memory, trying to dredge up the names that she surely must have heard at some point.
"Why were you not in Corsecant?" Edmund asks after they've weaved through several more of the tall fir trunks, always following the precise steps Adan has left behind. Serena shakes her head as she focuses back on the knight beside her, giving up on recalling lessons of Narnia.
"I don't know," she admits quietly, still feeling foolish for all the things she doesn't know. She watches the ground, trying to step where the Wolf had and looking out for anything that will trip her. "When Sacha told me to run," Serena continues, thinking of the previous day, "I just went straight, away from…" she trails off, waving her free arm. Sacha's sleeve had been splattered in blood already, and his sword was slick with it as well. The sight had made her light-headed, and he'd practically had to drag her into the woods away from the fray. A chill runs up her spine as she remembers it all.
"Later," she continues, skipping over the rest, "I tried to aim south." Narnia is south, she had reasoned, and at least she had been able to figure out what direction that was by the location of the sun. She'd thought at the time that they must have been nearly there, and, when she'd found Talking Animals last night, she was sure she'd made it.
"You were already past the eastern border when you turned south," Edmund mumbles. Serena can feel the blush returning and dips her head, wishing the hood of her cloak could swallow her up.
She wonders miserably why her father even sent her to Narnia. He'd informed her only one day before she was to leave, and he never explained or even gave her an opportunity to question it. But it's not the kind of undertaking that could have happened without extensive planning. He must have been planning it for several weeks at least.
Corinne thought it was to marry her off at last, and she was inclined to agree with her lady in waiting. She knew there were two kings in Narnia for some reason– both human, the ambassadors had assured– but beyond that she couldn't remember a single thing about the royal family. Were they her fathers aim, or had he just intended for her to meet with other foreign dignitaries that resided at court in Narnia's capitol?
What was her father's plan? If she was supposed to be courting someone, why had she been sent without a chaperone? And what had caused an uprising within the guards that had been sent to accompany her? She has more questions than answers, and there's no one to ask, at least until she reaches Narnia and can send a letter to her father. Serena tries to figure out what she'd even write as she stumbles along beside the silent Sir Edmund.
Eventually he does slow to their original pace, and Serena glances at him from the corner of her eye. He seems distracted with his own thoughts. Serena decides that a knight surely wouldn't know anything about the arrangement her father had made with the high king of Narnia. But then, perhaps he isn't just a simple knight. He had been entrusted to search for her, after all, and the Horse and Wolf seem to be under his leadership.
She continues to study the man beside her more closely. His cloak, despite having been crudely cut at the bottom for her benefit, looks to be made of high-quality leather and lined with thick furs, not something a common soldier in Corsecant would wear. And his armor fits him perfectly— probably made for him— with intricate patterns in the leatherwork. The sword, too, looks well-crafted with its golden pommel and ornate designs on the sheath.
Perhaps he's upper nobility of some sort, she decides, or an officer. He looks too young for a general, but he certainly doesn't have the bearing of a simple soldier. She thinks of every interaction they've had, and she can't remember him bowing on their first introduction— though it was rather an unusual meeting— or anytime since then. He has called her princess, but it's seemed to be mostly with irritation or annoyance, or more so to address her than to show any respect for her station.
The longer they walk, the more Serena begins to wonder about this stranger instead of about her own situation. Just who is this man?