LOWBORN : Edmund Pevensie

13

I don't talk to Princess Evangeline about King Edmund, nor do I mention how I've been excluded. While, quite obviously, she is craving the freedom that the Narnians are spoon-feeding her, she must realize that she brought me here and has since abandoned me. It must occur to her that I am left dangling by her every day, no? Perhaps Princess Evangeline is much more self-centred than I have ever given her credit.

This day, I wander deep in the castle. It is a wing extremely far away from where I am staying, but how else can one explore if not by venturing into the wild? I pass by servants who all bow and curtsy for me. I make sure to return the gesture, getting as low as I possibly can. My back and knees begin to ache.

Eventually, I make it to two grand doors. They stand, monstrous before me, made out of deep wood. I press up against one, budging it open. The door creaks, moving slowly due to its weight. Finally, I am inside.

I find myself in a library. The walls are lined with books, tall and mighty. The room is two storeys tall, with a spiralling staircase near one wall leading up to a second floor of books. Strewn about the room are a variety of chairs and end tables. In one nook, there is even a table surrounded by chairs.

I've never seen so many books in my life. At the shelf, I reach my hand out and grasp one with green leather binding. I open it, revealing black cursive handwriting along the page. I take another book, with a red spine, and open it as well. I'm met with writing as well. Everything in here is handwritten, and all of the books are handbound.

For the life of me, I cannot tell how they are organized. I put the books back as I begin to scan the library. There are atlases and books on the flora and fauna of Narnia and other kingdoms. Other books detail the history of the kingdom, including its wars, alliances, traditions and inventions. Books on historical figures, like the White Witch and Father Christmas, line the walls as well.

Finally, I arrive at the fiction section. These take up the second floor of the library. They come from all over the land. From islands off the course of Narnia and from Calormen and Archenland. There is even one detailing the folklore of Lumor. I pick it up and begin to scan the pages.

The boy and his broom. The always-burning candlestick. The bovine who sprouted wings. We never had much time for stories in the castle, but whenever my Mum tucked me in at night, she would tell me stories. I feel as if I am in her arms again.

The door to the library shuts. I tuck myself against the wall, my heart pounding. Am I allowed in here? Perhaps it is just a servant come to clean, who won't say a word. Perhaps it is a political advisor who has come to do research, who will certainly say something to the royals.

"Are you hiding?" I recognize the voice. King Edmund. I peer over the edge of the balcony from my vantage point, watching as he walks into the centre of the room. He turns around to look for me, but the shadows obscure me. "I know you are here, Theodosia."

I take a step out of the shadows, and the floor creaks beneath my feet. King Edmund looks up at me, and he smiles.

"There you are," he begins.

I cut him off. "How did you know I was here, your majesty?"

"A man never reveals his sources," he replies. He begins to scratch at his head, but his crown is in the way. So, he takes it off and places it down on the table. He entirely messes up his hair and barely fixes it.

I want to ask him why he has come, but I don't. Instead, I wait for his response.

He walks up the stairs and comes to meet me. King Edmund leans over top of me. He is not a very tall man, but he still has a dozen centimetres on me. While his right arm rests on the bookshelf, his left takes the book out of my hand.