Chapter VIII

The doors to the main greeting halls of Cair Paravel had been flung open and bright sunshine spilled in over the flagstones. Every window gleamed and the red and gold banners had never looked so rich or proud fluttering in the slight breeze.

Caspian smiled softly as he glanced towards outside. He could see the distant pavilions in bright colours where the royal guests would watch the Games from. The gathered crowds were already milling about and the sound of their raucous chatter floated back to Caspian on the wind.

On days like this; fragrant, Summer days: it was so easy to recall Susan, how her hair burnished in the Narnian sun and her bright smile.

Caspian turned away to look across the vast and empty halls of his palace. Everyone was down already at the grounds and it was only the stragglers that were left behind. His detour to Corl had taken longer than he imagined, and now he was running unforgivably late.

Caspian turned to Aenna beside him, readying to speak, when out of the corner of his eye his gaze caught a distant sight and the young king grimaced apologetically.

Given Caspian had expected his task with Corl this morning to be swift, he had not informed Nausus.

Nausus, his ever faithful advisor, had clearly been close to pulling his hair out as he searched frantically for his missing King.

Nausus practically charged across the flagstones towards his wayward King, hooves galloping on the stone. In his focused hunt the Faun didn't even notice Aenna.

"Your Majesty, I had feared you had decided to play truant this morning once more," Nausus said, his utter relief at finally finding Caspian, loosening his tongue.

Aenna politely averted her gaze, a smile twitching at her lips as she scoured the hall searchingly for Corl and Drinian.

"Calm yourself, Nausus," Caspian said smilingly as he grasped the Faun's shoulder. "I am here."

"Well, we must hurry. The Games are – " Nausus began rapidly, already directing Caspian towards the open doors.

"See I told you he would be here presently!"

Drinian interrupted Nausus mid-speech as the jovial captain sauntered into sight with a wildly giggling Corl under his arm, the boy's cloak dangling upside down.

"Aenna! Aenna!" Corl shrieked delightedly. "I'm a pirate! This is how Captain Drinian throws pirates off his ship!"

Aenna laughed soundly with Caspian, and even Nausus managed a small smile.

Then the Faun's eyes narrowed slightly with burgeoning recognition.

"Drinian, that isn't one of your nephews," Nausus stated.

Drinian swung Corl around again and the boy shrieked giddily. "No, this isn't my nephew," the Captain confirmed. "Weren't you listening Nausus? This is the dreaded pirate – Captain Corl!"

Nausus looked close to fainting then, as Corl wrested his cloak clear to grin at Aenna, Nausus was able to see the young boy's face clearly, and finally take full notice of the Archenland tutor standing unobtrusively nearby.

"Drinian!" Nausus cried in panic. "Stop swinging around King Avrain's grandson like that!"

Caspian tried not to laugh, especially when his friend was so genuinely distressed. He could see that Aenna was similarly fighting a losing battle against bubbling laughter.

"Who's flinging King Avrain where and how can I help?" Nimien strolled in on the scene, all bedecked in his armour for his joust with Drinian. As the swordmaster's gaze landed on Drinian though, a smile curled Nimien's lips beneath his moustache.

"Oh, I see you have finally found an opponent you can best, old friend," Nimien conjectured airily, gesturing to the ruffled blonde head of hair peeking out from under Drinian's arm. "And what fair-haired nephew is this I haven't met before?" Nimien mused as he strolled forward.

Drinian swiftly returned Corl to an upright position. And as soon as the young Archenland royal was standing, he looked darkly up at Nimien, piping up indignantly.

"You won't be flinging my grandfather anywhere or I'll run you through!"

"Corl!" Aenna cried immediately with wide eyes as she flew over to the young boy.

Nimien looked suitably shocked speechless while Drinian was in the process of laughing heartily, head thrown back. Even Caspian found himself hard-pressed to bite back a threatening grin, at the look of utter dumb surprise on the dignified Lord Nimien's face.

Drinian slung an arm around Corl's proud, small shoulders, still grinning at Nimien. "That is a duel I would like to see, Captain Corl," Drinian beamed. "What say you Nimien? Are you brave enough to face our young Corl here?"

"King Avrain will kill us all if his grandson comes to the slightest harm!" Nausus fretted at Caspian's side.

Calm reason was instigated once more as Aenna knelt down in front of Corl, who was still glaring blackly at Nimien.

"Corl – apologise," Aenna whispered.

"But Aenna! He said he was going to fling grandfather –" Corl began whiningly.

"Corl!" Aenna interrupted firmly, her voice managing to again sound sterner without having risen in volume at all.

Corl sulked visibly for another moment before he relented under his tutor's patient yet expectant gaze, and Aenna stood. She positioned herself behind Corl again, her steady hands resting lightly on his shoulders. Drinian meanwhile made valiant attempts to stem his inappropriate laughter, as Corl prepared to make his reluctant apology.

"I'm sorry," Corl mumbled insincerely in Nimien's direction.

Caspian felt a direct shot of sympathy for the young Archenland royal; surprised at how deeply he commiserated at Corl's current situation. When he had been Corl's age he remembered having to make similar, begrudging apologies, and thinking longingly and naïvely of the days when he would be older and King; able to say and do what he wanted. He had never expected the bitter reality to be so far from what he imagined.

Nimien, having recovered himself by this stage and in the process of trying to ignore Drinian's smirking face, turned to Corl, clearing his throat cumbersomely.

"It's quite alright, Lord Corl. I assure you, I don't mean to…fling your grandfather anywhere," Nimien said falteringly, that only served to once more incite Drinian's indiscreet sniggering.

Nausus despaired under his breath at Caspian's side, the likelihood of King Avrain hearing of this little incident.

Aenna sighed in evident relief when Corl properly and politely accepted Nimien's pardon, and Drinian's laughter grew more pronounced.

Corl grinned impishly as he looked up at Drinian.

"Drinian," Caspian warned, "Must I make you apologise to Lord Nimien too?" he teased. Out of the corner of his eye he saw the smile that irrepressibly curved Aenna's lips, that same impish light of mischief flashing in her indigo eyes.

Corl giggled, and Drinian attempted to appear more contrite as he turned to Aenna.

"Apologies Lady, it wasn't my intention to exacerbate the situation. I merely found the opportunity to tease an old friend too tempting to pass up," Drinian said courteously.

Aenna arched a circumspect brow. "I see Drinian. But then of course I was pre-warned of your mischievous nature; so perhaps the fault is mine to entrust Corl to one so fond of mischief as himself." The lilting tease to Aenna's voice betrayed that she wasn't truly scolding the Captain.

Caspian bit back a smile, as Drinian all the same pretended to appear suitably abashed.

Corl pouted though, frowning helplessly up at his tutor before looking to the Captain earnestly. "Don't worry Captain Drinian – Aenna isn't really annoyed with you. She always uses proper titles when she's really annoyed," Corl finished in a voice of such earnest certainty.

"Lord Corl," Aenna prompted then, arching a prudent brow, and Corl wincingly glanced up once more at Aenna.

"What are you all doing here? I thought Eltre and I were going to be the only ones pretentiously late, and not have to sit through all that useless parading they always put on at the start of tournaments?" Professor Cornelius strolled leisurely into the main hall causing all gazes to snap to him, as his amused blue eyes peered at them all over his half-moon spectacles.

Eltre was at the Professor's side like a silent guardian, resplendent in his finest armour, as he shared a knowing grin with Caspian.

Ever since the Professor's health had suffered that abrupt illness not so long ago, they had all agreed amongst themselves to watch over the Professor. Cornelius of course had grated against their constant 'mother-hen ways' as he called it, leading to many frustrating afternoons of Caspian, Eltre, Drinian, Nimien and Nausus darting about Cair Paravel looking for a wily old Professor, who moved remarkably quickly for a man of his stature and age.

Eventually, to assuage their worries and to keep the peace, the Professor had relented gruffly, and his only response now would be a witty quip and a long-suffering eye roll, when Eltre would just happen to also be running late to the tournament like today, or Drinian just happened to also be strolling in the gardens at the same time as him, or Caspian just happened to be visiting the library also etc. etc.

"At this rate the welcome procession will have begun and all!" Nausus bemoaned, worryingly twisting his silver, wedding ring.

"Splendid," Cornelius commented, not at all perturbed at the news. "Good morning Lady Aenna, Lord Corl," the Professor addressed both tutor and Archenland royal amiably as he reached them, completely at ease.

"I was not aware you were acquainted," Caspian remarked in genuine surprise, glancing between his old teacher and the Archenland tutor, as Aenna made her polite reply to the Professor, and then to Eltre.

"Well no, you wouldn't be," Drinian interjected, grinning teasingly. "You were rather unconscious at the time of hasty introductions in your bedchamber."

Caspian made to make a swift reply to his smirking friend when it seemed his Faun councillor had reached the end of his tether. "The Games!" Nausus cried frantically, apologising, even as he physically began to jostle Caspian towards the doors.

And for the sake of Nausus's abused nerves, they obediently allowed themselves to be herded towards the doors.

Walking with as much celerity as decorum would allow without breaking into an all-out run, they made their way towards the grand spectacle that was to be the playing fields for most of the Games.

Nausus was prominently in the lead, hooves keeping up a steady trot as the Faun continuously urged his companions to hurry. Professor Cornelius ambled along after them at a sedate pace in direct contrast to the fretting Nausus, puffing contentedly on his pipe and taking in the resplendent scenery of a warm Summer Narnian day at leisure, as he conversed quietly with Eltre; his appointed shadow for the day. And between the three contrasting figures, at varying speeds, were Caspian, Aenna, Eltre, Corl, Drinian and Nimien.

Drinian and Nimien had started up their usual banter, primarily concerned with their imminent joust that day. Corl was following the verbal sparring intently, head snapping to and fro with each riposte and repartee fired between the two men. Needless to say, the young Archenland royal was most decidedly on Captain Drinian's side.

At first Aenna had kept up the usual habit she had, of warningly voicing Corl's name in a certain tone, cautioning him to not be so forward. Corl would give his tutor a half-hearted and distracted apology over his shoulder, promising to remember his manners, before returning his intense focus to Nimien and Drinian's continued arguing. Corl in the next moment however, would be vehemently resounding Drinian's opinion to Nimien, regarding the latter's supposedly dismal winning odds.

Aenna sighed lightly, frowning helplessly and Caspian chuckled gently as he walked at her side.

"There's truly no harm done," Caspian assured her. "Believe me, where Lords Drinian and Nimien are concerned, Corl outranks them in maturity every time."

The faintly worried lines shadowing Aenna's brow smoothed. "Thank you, King Caspian," she voiced sincerely. She made to say something more, but instead closed her mouth, a secretive smile curving her lips as she averted her bright gaze down.

"Drinian growing up with four sisters, has taught me that when women smile like so, they are usually thinking of something troublingly clever," Caspian teased.

Aenna's eyes widened as they snapped up to regard him, a pink blush stealing into her cheeks.

"Sorry, Lady Aenna, I didn't mean to embarrass you – " Caspian trailed off apologetically, when Aenna spoke clearly.

"I was merely thinking that by the end of this tournament; between Lord Drinian, Lord Nimien and yourself, King Caspian – you will have successfully undid every lesson about courtly manners and civility I have tried to instil in Corl these past five years," she said, eyes dancing with silent mirth.

Caspian laughed outright as Aenna grinned widely.

"I'm not so sure I want to apologise for that. Courtly manners while befitting for a royal, can be rather…boring? I'd go as far as to say, that undoing such lessons would be an improvement," Caspian replied in as serious a tone of contemplation as he could manage.

Aenna gasped in feigned outrage, eyes wide with suppressed laughter. "Are you calling my lessons boring, King Caspian?"

"I'm merely criticising the subject rather than the teacher," Caspian replied with perfect politeness.

Aenna pursed her lips to stop from grinning. "Very well, you have redeemed yourself, King Caspian. How do you suggest I instruct Corl to behave then?"

"I think Lord Drinian provides a most apt figure for Corl to aspire to," Caspian considered aloud.

"Indeed," Aenna mused, "And Lady Arressa and Lady Della; Corl's sisters. Does Your Majesty have similarly esteemed figures for upcoming Archenland princesses to aspire to?"

"As far as ladies are concerned; I think Lady Arressa and Lady Della need only look towards their tutor for proper instruction on how to behave," Caspian replied charmingly, with a light teasing grin.

A telling blush immediately shot over the Archenland's tutor's face before fading away to leave two pennants of colour high on her cheeks. Nevertheless, a small smile was on her lips.

"His Majesty is kind to say so," she murmured.

"I never got to thank you for your aid after…well, after Corl mistook me for his sister in the gardens. It was you, wasn't it?" Caspian glanced at the tutor askance, trying to keep his voice casual.

Aenna's expression sobered slightly, indigo eyes sliding almost knowingly over to Caspian as she smiled gently. "It was I, Your Majesty," she confirmed softly. "I had been walking in the gardens while Corl and Arressa played, when I heard as Corl made his grievous error. As I neared the scene you were already supine on the ground and in some considerable pain."

Caspian smirked ruefully, remembering only too clearly the events that followed.

"I imagine I cut a fine, regal figure lying like so on the ground. The first injury of the Games: King Caspian floored by a child," Caspian muttered sardonically.

A sound peal of laughter sounded from Aenna, before she hurriedly raised her hand to her mouth; indigo eyes contrite as she looked over her fingers at him.

"Apologies Your Majesty," Aenna began immediately as she lowered her hand.

"Never apologise for laughing at Kings, Lady Aenna. It does them good to be laughed at sometimes," a gruff voice full of age-old mischief piped up from behind them.

"What's this? Are we laughing at Caspian's expense again?" Drinian turned, grinning widely.

"A most healthy endeavour, I find," Nimien added with the utmost solemnity to agreement from Eltre.

"You see how I am treated by my subjects, Lady Aenna?" Caspian despaired, as the Archenland tutor had fairly dissolved into a fit of utterly unladylike laughter, much to the endless amusement of her fair-haired ward, who had evidently never seen his tutor so undignified.

"Don't heed him, Lady Aenna; he's fairly a tyrant!" Drinian exclaimed.

"Ah yes," Professor Cornelius agreed solemnly, "Infamous throughout the lands for pillaging whole plates of honey-seed cakes and gorging on them until he makes himself ill."

"I haven't done that since I was eleven!" Caspian tried to defend himself.

"I could have sworn I heard the Head Cook, complain that a plate of honey-seed cakes had gone missing right from under her nose, not a few weeks past," Eltre chimed in innocently.

"That was the Professor!" Caspian protested.

"King Caspian! Shame on you – passing such blame to such a kindly old professor," Drinian exclaimed with exaggerated dramatics. "Is there no end to your nefarious deeds?"

"Drinian, you should have been an actor with a traveling troupe my friend," Caspian retorted; the Captain throwing a disgruntled frown at Nimien when the latter found this comment entirely too amusing.

"Nausus, you're being called upon to defend your king from the most iniquitous of charges!" Caspian called.

His Faun advisor turned on his hooved heels, miraculously managing to keep up his swift speed. "My King?" he asked distractedly.

"We're debating on how good a King, Caspian is," Drinian supplied in explanation.

"Well of course, Caspian is an excellent King, and I feel truly honoured to serve him," Nausus replied immediately with such earnestness that the teasing expression on Caspian's face waned a little, to be replaced by a warm, genuine smile.

Let Farzán plot and scheme and throw as many tournaments as he pleased, Caspian thought. Caspian knew who his loyal friends were, who would stand by him no matter how many of the Lords in his council chambers may side against him.

"Well, mostly," Nausus revised thoughtfully.

"What do you mean, mostly?" Caspian demanded with mock severity.

"Well, I just meant there are a few occasions – "

"I think we should hear about these few occasions?"

"I think not, Drinian."

"Well, I just meant the incident behind the tapestry with the ladies from the Lone Islands – "

"Nausus! I thought I told you that was to be kept strictly between us?!"

"What incident?"

"What ladies?"

"What tapestry?"

"I always did like the Lone Islands."

"Drinian!"

The Captain threw an unapologetic grin over his shoulder at his King, as the laughter of his friends echoed all around him.

Out of the corner of his eye, Caspian stole a glance at the Archenland tutor. She too was laughing, brightly and uncaringly, finally loosening the courtly strictures she usually kept herself bound in.

"Nausus, I was counting on you to redeem my reputation, not compound it further!" Caspian called, the reprimand utterly undermined by his own laughter.

"Forgive me, King Caspian. But did you not say to me, not so long ago, that not even Kings were above being censured for being wrong?"

Caspian looked to Aenna with open incredulity imprinted on his face.

In fact, there was a moment when all eyes turned to the Archenland tutor, who although blushing brightly at her own boldness, had a small smile on her lips and a spark of mischief in her eyes entirely reminiscent of her young ward's.

Then they all fell to rowdy, raucous laughter, Corl clapping his hands gleefully as he skipped buoyantly up to his tutor with a beaming grin.

"That's it! I'm abdicating," Caspian declared through the laughter, which of course only induced more laughter. "Corl, how would you like to be King of Narnia?"

"Yes, please!" Corl cried eagerly, bouncing with excitement, little cloak flapping about his knees. With a careless flourish, Caspian plucked the ornate and jewelled crown with all its weighty responsibilities from his head, and placed it atop Corl's golden head with a low courteous bow.

"Aenna, I'm a King! I'm King of Narnia!" Corl sang as he danced exuberantly amongst them, one hand raised to stop the too-big crown slipping forward.

Even Nausus forgot his haste for a few moments, a doting smile crossing the Faun's face as Corl grinned up at them all, crown resting askew across his golden brow. And the Professor mumbled something, about how this scene reminded him of when Caspian was a similarly mischievous little imp.

Caspian watched the little Archenland royal skip merrily, Narnia's crown glinting atop his head, and felt a wan smile touch his lips. If only I could abandon the trappings of my position, as easily as I could that crown…

Quite unexpectedly, Caspian felt a pair of eyes observing him, and he was surprised, yet not, when he turned and caught Aenna's indigo gaze watching him curiously.

She didn't look away when Caspian met her eyes, instead she offered him a small smile that seemed to be asking him a question. And Caspian returned the soft smile, answering her. I'm fine.

"Seeing as I'm King, does it mean I get to wear High King Peter's sword?!" Corl inquired excitedly, effectively commandeering Caspian's attentions from the boy's tutor.

"Of course, King Corl, it is yours now. Being King will also mean, however, having to endure this rabble on a daily basis," Caspian replied, gesturing to his friends about him, who all voiced varied indignations and protests immediately.

"Did our King just call us a rabble?!" Nimien objected.

"In the dungeons!" Corl pointed fiercely at Lord Nimien. The Archenland tutor was beyond scolding her young ward, as laughter like music spilled from her lips.

"A splendid start to your rule, King Corl. I'm liking this change already, Caspian," Drinian announced with a grin.

"Lady Aenna, would you be able to take an additional ward under your wing? I think King Caspian could benefit from another few years schooling," Nimien conjectured, only for the Professor to give a rather loud harrumph in indignant objection.

"And pray, what do you think I have been doing the past eighteen years, Lord Nimien?" Professor Cornelius grumbled sternly.

The proud Lord Nimien was for the second time that morning brought to visibly cringing with a telling blush, and Drinian burst into raucous laughter once more at the other's discomfiture.

"My apologies, Professor, evidently I was mistaken. It is Lord Drinian who requires the instruction on how to behave," Nimien said stiffly, while directing a dark glare on an unapologetic Drinian.

"Drinian, at this rate, it will be a miracle if you survive your upcoming joust with Lord Nimien," Eltre suggested mildly with a wry grin.

"And at this rate, it will be a miracle if we reach the Games at all!" Nausus interjected, throwing them all an exasperated look.

Stealing up as close to the grandly prepared games fields as they dared, Nausus whimpered when they all clearly saw that the 'pompous parading' had indeed commenced.

There was a steady and orderly procession of knights and soldiers in gleaming armour and holding erect and proudly, the brightly coloured banners bearing the emblems of their Houses.

The impressive display of strength from all over Narnia and the lands beyond, was parading before the grandest pavilion.

Even from where he was currently hiding behind the canvas of the nearest tent assigned for the injured, Caspian could clearly see the disgruntled expression of King Avrain's face.

And even more notable, was the empty throne beside the Archenland King, glaringly devoid of the expected Narnian King.

"I hope you'll forgive me, Lady Aenna. This isn't exactly the arrival I had envisioned when I asked to escort you and Corl to the Games," Caspian apologised sincerely.

Aenna glanced towards Caspian, expression the furthest thing from reproach as a small smile lit her lips. "Nor did I envision making such an entrance," she agreed. "You are forgiven of course though, Your Majesty," she added lightly.

"This is much better!" Corl piped up.

"I doubt many will be pleased at our disrupting the parading," Caspian mused, unable to bring himself to quite regret the fact that he was running so late.

"I have an alternative," Drinian proffered with a devious smirk and an impish twinkle in his blue eyes.

Rather than interrupt the pompous parading that had already commenced, Drinian directed them on a winding circuit towards the rear of the royal pavilion, all with unelaborated promises of a discreet entrance with no fuss.

The few they passed who were similarly not at the opening procession, were namely squires and foot-soldiers darting to and fro, completing final preparations for their knights.

They stared unabashedly in shock at the motley procession that trouped past them. Later that night, when their duties had been expended, they would tell their fellows of the strange sight they had witnessed that day, to be met with much cajoling disbelief from their friends. The Narnian King with esteemed members of the council and army, along with the Archenland tutor and a crowned grandson of King Avrain, sneaking like mischievous children through the tents! Who would believe such a tale?

Needless to say, when Captain Drinian's intentions became clear, the responses were mixed.

"This way you can pretend you were here all along," Drinian said with a self-pleased grin, as he held aside one of the flaps of the richly embroidered canvas to allow them to pass.

"Lady, I hope you don't think me discourteous, but I'd recommend that you don't go first," Drinian added charmingly to a thoroughly bemused Aenna.

Corl snickered under his breath, small face glowing with laughter and overjoyed by the turn their day had taken.

Professor Cornelius snorted in amusement. "I must remember this trick," he said to the still proudly smug Captain.

Nausus was far from impressed. "The Narnian King crawling under tent flaps!" he despaired. "At least I know where you learnt to become so fond of hiding under tapestries from ladies," the distressed Faun added meaningfully towards Caspian, before shooting a reproachful glance at Drinian.

"Sneaking women under tent flaps was rather a penchant of yours, if I remember your younger days clearly, Drinian," Nimien remarked.

"Why would you want to sneak women into your tent, Captain Drinian? Ressy always wrecks everything when she sneaks into my tent," Corl piped up, small face creased with childish confusion, as the adults around him spluttered trying to conjure a viable answer.

"Story-telling," Drinian replied in almost perfect seriousness.

"Aenna tells the best stories! You have to sneak her into your tent, Captain Drinian!" Corl enthused with perfect earnestness.

"We'll be at war with Archenland within the week," Nausus bemoaned.

"You started this, old man," Drinian muttered under his breath towards Nimien, a flustered blush staining the Captain's cheeks as he directed an apologetic look towards Aenna.

With a grumbling cough, the Professor took charge of the situation, as he tapped the ash out of his pipe, before pocketing it amongst the folds of his robes.

"Nausus, why don't you lead the way," Cornelius prompted gruffly. "Better late than never to arrive at all, wouldn't you agree?"

The Faun advisor immediately jolted into action, indulging in one last discomfited look at the thought of the Narnian King arriving to his own Games by ducking under a tent flap, before slipping under the colourful canvas.

One by one, they made their unorthodox and clandestine arrival, until there was only Aenna, Corl, Drinian and Caspian.

Caspian took the canvas from Drinian to hold aside as the Captain disappeared under it, and Corl made eagerly to follow his new-found and favourite sea-faring companion, when Aenna's soft exclamation halted him.

"Corl!"

Aenna's eyes widened as she quickly snatched Caspian's crown from Corl's golden head, breathing an audible sigh of relief.

Corl looked a little put out at his abrupt dethronement, but with a gentle nudge and a conspiratorial wink from his tutor, the boy sauntered on into the tent, utterly unperturbed.

Aenna turned to Caspian, a playful smile dancing on her lips, as she held out his ornate crown reverentially in both hands. "I believe this belongs to you, King Caspian."

Ruefully eyeing the intricately forged circlet in Aenna's steady white hands, Caspian couldn't help but envision the next few hours of this blasted tournament wearing it.

Sweltering heat. Stilted conversation with Princess Erinla; his soon-to-be betrothed, no doubt. Very likely nothing but a stony wall of silence from her father, King Avrain. Farzán moving sinuously and sinisterly amongst the dignitaries, inveigling his way into their good graces. And Caspian, once more playing his role of the obedient kingly puppet, smiling and pretending to enjoy these ostentatious Games he had been cornered into.

A crown? Shackles and chain seems more appropriate presently, Caspian thought bitterly, as he reached to take his crown back from Aenna, their fingertips brushing.

"Sometimes I wish it didn't, Caspian murmured, the words having escaped him before he could stop them.

Patently surprised by his unbidden confession, Aenna forgot to let go of the object in her hands, as her stricken gaze snapped to Caspian. As such, found them posed, in some strange tableau, both standing holding Narnia's crown between them.

Caspian could well understand her shock. He very much doubted if King Avrain or Princess Erinla had ever confided to anyone, never mind a tutor serving them, that they wished for any other life, other than the royal one they currently led.

After a stupefied second though, Aenna regained her senses, and apologetically slipped her hands from the crown.

"I should apologise – " Caspian began, readjusting his grip on the crown that felt subtly heavier now that he held it alone.

"You shouldn't," Aenna interrupted, before immediately cringing, two roses of colour blooming high on her cheeks; the Archenland tutor despairing where all her impeccable courtly manners had fled to this morning.

"Forgive me, King Caspian – " she began dutifully, only to be likewise interrupted.

"Don't apologise."

Aenna and Caspian stared silently at one another a moment, before similar sheepish grins graced their lips, dispelling the doleful mood of moments before, and they shared a small laugh.

"We'll both agree that we shouldn't be sorry, and that we won't apologise to one another," Caspian surmised, a teasing boyish grin slanting across his lips.

An instinctive chuckle escaped Aenna, as her own grin widened. She looked younger, more…something, when she laughed, Caspian realised. She certainly looked less like the cautious martinet tutor of his first impression, anyway, with her raven hair pulled so severely back into its tight braid, and her attire of an unadorned, russet dress, evidently chosen more for practicality than ornamentation.

"That sounds…agreeable, King Caspian," she replied, a pert smirk flashing across her lips.

Caspian's gaze fell to the crown he still held, and had forgotten to put on yet. Forgotten? His own thoughts echoed shrewdly. Or trying to delay the inevitable?

With an inward scoff at his own weakness, Caspian resolutely replaced his crown to its rightful place. He was King of Narnia, and proud to be. Many had fought fiercely to win him his throne, Susan included. He would never even contemplate disparaging their bravery, by wishing the responsibility on another, and all for something as petty as mitigating his own loneliness.

"Well, how does it look?" Caspian asked flippantly. His smile was impeccable as he had laboured hard to ensure it always was, because Kings didn't allow troubled displays of emotion to shine on their expressions. Subjects looked to their Kings for guidance and fortitude and that gave Caspian little time for wavering, for second-guessing, for being human.

But his confident expression that had fooled a thousand courtiers, failed to convince the Archenland tutor. Her smile was more gentle, and she didn't respond to his jesting tone with another mischievous remark, that Caspian now knew her quite capable of conjuring.

Instead, the Archenland tutor did something that wiped the faux expression of ease and bravado from Caspian's face entirely.

With a look of quiet concentration, and that faint, dulcet smile still on her lips, Aenna reached boldly forth with light, nimble fingers, and straightened Caspian's marginally askew crown to perfect alignment. She met his eyes for a second, smile widening softly, and speaking more eloquently than words ever could.

Then a vivid blush shot across her face, her smile vanished, and she hurriedly snatched her hands back, white fingers curling tightly into her palms at her tense sides. Her indigo eyes fixed steadfastly on the narrow stretch of ground between them, as though waiting for chastisement.

"Forgive me, Your Majesty," Aenna murmured with faultless courtesy, raising her gaze slightly so Caspian could see her face, see that her perfect courtly composure had resumed, caution darkening her indigo eyes once more.

But at her sides, her slim fingers – entirely accustomed to plucking debris from Corl's hair or tying ribbons in Ressy and Della's flaxen curls – fretted at her skirts in an adolescent habit, that belied the stern façade of impeccable royal tutor Aenna was fronting at that moment.

Perhaps I am not the only one constrained by a title…Caspian thought fleetingly.

"I thought we agreed on no apologies?" Caspian murmured lightly, softening his expression, as he belatedly realised his initial response to Aenna's kind gesture, was part of the reason for her subsequent alarm at her bold action.

Indigo eyes met his, narrowed with wariness, but there was something mingled with the edge of caution, that made Caspian think she was trying very hard not to smile. "It was slightly crooked, Your Majesty," Aenna replied slowly, and then the grin did break across her face, tentatively almost.

Caspian chuckled lightly, and Aenna visibly relaxed a little more.

"Thank-you," Caspian added, holding Aenna's eyes meaningfully and hoping she would understand at least a little of what he meant to impart, but had no words for.

Kings were not meant to falter, not even minutely and most certainly not in front of others. It was exhausting. And Caspian had been feeling so very weary these past few weeks, since the whole infernal disruption of this tournament had begun.

Caspian had his close friends of course; Drinian, the Professor, Eltre, Nausus and Nimien, who all could see through his façades now easily, but Caspian didn't wish to worry them. Their mere company was enough to lift Caspian from the blackest of despairs, most days, anyway.

But when duty and obligation, necessitated that his friends melt away one by one, Caspian felt the keenness of his solitude as he hadn't felt it in years. Since he had fled his uncle's castle in the dead of night after Miraz had attempted to have him killed, and abandoning the only friend he had then; his steadfast Professor, Cornelius.

Aenna's gesture had been so simple; a tender gesture of innocuous care, that the tutor was used to administering a hundred times a day with her three young wards. But this time, the Archenland tutor had dispensed her soft smile and fleeting touch on a Narnian King.

And for a second it had seemed like she was saying, reassuring him almost, that even though he was King, he was entitled to feel as he wanted to and not have to conceal it. He didn't have to pretend always to be impossibly immaculate, unimpeachable…he was human. See? Look how your crown is crooked…you are fallible. You are King, but you are also Caspian.

Caspian doubted immensely Aenna had meant so very much by her action. But then, she had that…secretive smile, that seemed to speak a language all of its own.

"Your Majesty," Aenna began hesitantly, casting a cautious glance towards Caspian. Caspian waited patiently, recognising that the royal tutor had pushed the realms of her comfort, as regards audacious actions towards nobles, and she needed to gather her nerve.

"I heard from a wise man once, a maxim concerning Kings."

"Oh?" Caspian arched a dark brow curiously at the unexpected words.

An indecipherable smile curled her lips slightly, as she answered. "Those who truly understand what it means to be King, and still wish to be, shouldn't be King at all – for they are clearly deranged."

Caspian laughed soundly then, Aenna joining in more politely after a moment. "Then I suppose I am a bit of a madman," he said teasingly.

"I wouldn't say so, King Caspian," Aenna refuted with a smile that turned devious at her next words. "Madman no, Your Majesty, but I may have to think carefully if you ever offer to escort me anywhere again. I hear crawling under tent canvas can do all sorts of things to one's reputation."

The laughter between them came more easily, and for a moment Caspian found himself wishing fervently that he could just play truant once more this morning: abandon his odious duties overseeing the opening Games in this stultifying heat, and just…just, well, nothing so spectacular. He'd settle contentedly for just wiling away the rest of the morning right where he was, trying to see how many more mischievous remarks he could coax from the Archenland tutor.

"Caspian!" A somewhat ruffled head of black hair suddenly poked out from between the canvas walls of the tent. "Excuse me, Lady Aenna," Drinian added hastily. "Caspian, we are about to have our first casualty of the Games when Nausus has heart failure, if I don't drag you into the tent this second!"

Caspian sighed lightly. There would be no truant morning for the King of Narnia. But the smile on his lips only dimmed slightly, it didn't disappear.

Of course a thousand apologies for the unforgivable delay. I wish I could promise to update regularly and swiftly, but I can't. I can only promise that I will try my utmost to get chapters posted as quickly as possible. RL is just pretty time-consuming, I'm afraid :P

Thanks for people's patience; reviews, words of encouragement, follows & favourites. :D