Chapter 2

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The gangway banged onto the dock as men and women pushed past each other to embrace their loved ones that called their names. Tearful reunions filled the congested dock. I found myself off to the side in the shadow of the mast. Not sure what I was supposed to be doing. No one had rounded me up and paraded me as a prisoner of war—yet.

Caspian plodded down the gangway and the Narnians rallied themselves to him; roaring his name while pushing to get a word in with him. He clasped the hands of his people and accepted their gracious words with a bow of his head.

They love him. I wonder if they would feel the same if he murdered their fathers as well.

"Hey!" I looked down below where a young woman around my age with waist-length blonde curls gestured to me. I pretended I didn't see her for a moment, but then she called me by name. She gave me an encouraging nod and waved her hand to me again. Warily, I stepped down the gangway keeping my head low.

The golden-haired woman pulled me over and whispered, "You're the girl, right?"

"I think so?"

"I've been waiting to meet you," She said; a gleam in her sea-green eyes, "We've got to"

Out of the corner of my eye, the knight called Peter walked into the close circle. He cast me a glance and then leaned to whisper something in the girl's ear. She swatted him away hissing, "I know who she is. I was the one the Gryffin delivered the message to." With a nod of her head, she gestured to an older man standing nearby deep in conversation. Peter stiffened up and stepped back.

The girl began to walk and I followed; not sure who else I was supposed to be listening to at the moment. 

"I'm not sure what was Caspian's grand plan was to get you out of here discreetly. Can't exactly have a Vidalian parading down the streets of Narnia," She paused and turned to me untying her hooded cloak and handing it to me, "No offense."

Not sure if she's referring to the fact that Vidalians have been mortal enemies with Narnia for years or if she's inferring that Vidalian features are particularly offensivecan't say that I want her to clarify.

My hands fumbled the strings into a clumsy tie while I followed closely behind her as she wove through the crowd. Peter brushed past me to keep step with her. As the crowd became ever tighter, I watched as his hand reached out and hooked a finger into a fold of her blue skirt. She leaned right into his hand. The two walked in tandem like that for a moment until Peter brought his hand back to the hilt of his sword.

Once off the dock, the girl led us to a carriage pulled off in an alleyway. Peter helped her into the carriage first, and as I climbed in, to my surprise, he offered his hand for assistance.

He offered a tight-lipped smile, which seemed to be more out of being uncomfortable than politeness. Once I was settled into the darkened carriage, he closed the door; slapping the side twice causing the carriage to lurch forward in motion. 

The woman sat across from me; eyes narrowed, but a small smile still painted her face.

"This must be different for you," Her eyes were calculating; summing me up.

"Yes...it is," I said letting my eyes flit between her and the stone buildings rattling by, "What's your name? I don't think you mentioned it."

"Morgan," She smiled brightly, "Of course I already know yours. You're the talk of Cair Paravel. I'm kind of jealous actually. I might have to cause a scandal or something soon."

Part of me didn't know if she was joking or not, but deep in my gut, she felt like an old friend—if I had been allowed to associate with people my age that is. In Vidalia, Mother only allowed me to have interactions with my tutors, servants, and any members of the court. Friendship is for those who have too much time on their hands is what she would always say.

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