LOWBORN : Edmund Pevensie

33

Sir Wulfric of Teebeth has not been sent away. Rather, he's been reallocated to a camp outside of castle grounds. As it happens, he is a commanding officer and so he is harder to remove from his position. For a commoner, he has certainly made his way up the ranks.

I try to avoid the grounds now. Soldiers whistle when I walk by them and they make derogatory comments about my character and body. I do not tell Edmund this. He will dual anyone, to no end, to see them silenced. He is with me at every step. He is my knight in shining armour.

It is difficult to believe that I nearly killed him with a terrible poison. That feels impossibly long ago.

Instead, I make do in the castle. Lucy has invited me to spend time with her, without Evangeline present. I am surprised because though I believe she had forgiven me, I did not think she would want us to spend our free hours together. She invites me to the fitting room once more.

Upon the pedestal in the middle, she has Ornia measure me once more. I have grown stronger in the past few weeks. Though I grew thin from the food insecurity I faced while Evangeline and I were on the run, I have since gained back the weight and the muscle. My arms are bulkier than they have ever been, even as a child when I was told to carry many heavy buckets around and I scrubbed floors and the like. Ornia takes notes of my new measurements, writing them down.

This room is windowless. I wish to look outside and see the freshly falling snow. The first battle is to take place in a week. The snow shall be an obstacle for the men and women rushing into battle. Training is only intensifying. I have not seen Edmund since the previous fight, except for sly glances around the castle and stolen glances in its corridors.

"I'm thinking velvet," Lucy says. "What do you think?"

"To be frank, I dislike the texture," I point out. It seems frivolous to be having a gown made, but it is making a queen happy, and I am not in the position to reject her desire to spend time with me.

"Well, velvet is one of the more wintery looks," she says. "I want you and Evie to both have wonderful gowns to wear on Christmas morning."

I need not remind her that she nor Evangeline and potentially me shall be in the castle over Christmas. The only red and green that we will see are the green of the battlefield (provided it is not covered in snow) and the red of blood. Father Christmas shall not be around. It will be like it once was with the White Witch, whom the Narnians had vanquished years ago.

"I was hoping for something like an icy blue," she continues. "Preferably almost grey. Wouldn't that be nice?"

It sounds dreary to me. Almost as colourless as the White Witch herself. Although, it might suit my skin, and I refuse to argue with Lucy. There is not much point when it doesn't matter. I most likely will not be wearing it to any formal occasions, with the war looming.

Maybe grey is just what we need. It shall match the slush of the battlefield.

"It sounds lovely," I agree.

"Excellent," Lucy smiles. "Ornia, you'll get to it soon?"

Ornia nods her head.

It is Lucy's turn to get up on the pedestal, but when I look at her she shakes her head.

"Oh, no, I have enough fancy dresses," Lucy says. "Besides, I don't want Ornia to make your dress with such haste it looks sloppy. It would be such an awful Christmas gift."

I plaster a grin on my face. It's disingenuine, but I have never much cared about being genuine before now. It's different with Lucy though. Not only do I want her to like me, but I want her to like me more than the person that I present to her.