It was a sad day in Narnia when our rulers left us. They had been with us for so long, and they had ruled over us justly and fairly. And although I knew that my fellow Narnians and I would be safe under Aslan's care, as we always had been, I was still hurt that Queen Lucy would leave without so much as telling me that she would be going away.

On Christmas Eve, I spoke of the matter to my neighbors, Mr. and Mrs. Beaver. "Have you ever been curious as to what happened to them?"

They glanced at one another before they turned their gaze to me. "What do you mean?" Mr. Beaver wanted to know.

I almost held my tongue. I had worried for quite some time as to whether my affection for Queen Lucy had been noticeable, and by exposing my reason for wondering, I feared that it would become obvious.

"Queen Lucy and the others. They left without saying goodbye. I can't help but wonder where they went that day."

Mrs. Beaver placed her paw upon my arm. "Are you still thinking of her? Let it go, Tumnus; she's not coming back."

I pulled my arm back. "Thinking of whom? I'm sure I have no idea what you're talking about."

Mrs. Beaver gingerly picked up a painting of Queen Lucy, done the Christmas before. I kept it on a table by my fireplace. "Don't think it wasn't clear what you felt for her. Each time you were together, you looked on Queen Lucy with such tenderness and fondness you've never shown to anyone else in Narnia. There were moments when we were curious, at first, for we cared for them, just as loyal subjects should. But it was fate that brought them to us, and it was fate that took them away. Some things just aren't meant to be. Please, Tumnus, for your sake and for Lucy's, don't wish for things to be anything other than what they are."

I pondered her words for a moment. "What if we were able to find a way into their world? They were able to come here from Spare Oom. Do you suppose we could go there?"

Mr. Beaver echoed his wife's advice. "Don't tempt fate. Things are sometimes better the way they are. This may be one of them. If you find a way to go to Lucy, you may be sorry for trying to be someone to her that you can't be. I beg of you, be content with your life, Tumnus. If you and Lucy are meant for one another, fate will return her to you."

We discussed the matter no more, but I couldn't shake the thought from my mind: Would it really be possible to go into another world, and find my Queen? The Beavers' advice had always been extremely valuable to me, but I cared so deeply for Lucy that she was nearly all I ever thought of. Did I dare forget the matter of ever finding her again, and simply "let it go", as Mrs. Beaver had put it? Would I really want to spend the rest of my days knowing that I had something in common with the one issue that made my heart sick--left alone? I knew my neighbors were right in telling me to wait; how long, though? I wondered.

I hung my stocking for Father Christmas, and as I walked past Queen Lucy's painting, I paused to gaze upon her face. I whispered, to my friend almost as much as to myself, "I have tried so hard to be good this year, but I don't believe he can bring me what I want. Come back to me soon, my Queen."