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THE WORLD feels different when the sun rises on the third day. I can't tell if it's because of the storm that raged all day and night, washing Narnia clean for a new age, or if it's the busyness of the castle as everyone prepares for Caspian's coronation. I can't tell if I'm the only one who feels it; how the air is charged and the wind is fresh off the mountains, the sun turning all that it touches warm and golden with life. But I wonder, as I leave the council room later that day, if it's meant to compensate for the years of tyranny we suffered and the lives we lost, or perhaps if it's to apologize for something yet to come.
Peter Pevensie appears at the end of the corridor, and when he sees me, offers a smile and nod. "Witchslayer."
"Your highness."
Our game of formality breaks when his smile widens to a grin. "Where are you headed?"
"The camp. Caspian asked me to pass on some orders to Rainstone. I'll probably find something to help with while I'm there."
The High King gestures to the large doors behind me. "Is he still in there?"
I nod. "And Susan, Edmund, Trumpkin, Glenstorm, and Reep."
"Sounds like I'm a bit late," he laughs. "Have you seen Lucy?"
"No, but Susan said she's with Nyssa helping with coronation business."
Peter looks relieved to hear that. Despite the palace being completely void of Miraz's followers (with the exception of the dungeons), he still worries for the safety of his sister. In fact, we all do. Nyssa has taken it upon herself to act as a personal guard to the young queen. Initially, it was a show of gratitude for saving her life after the battle. Now, I think the cheetah has simply grown to adore Lucy too much to entrust anyone else with her safety.
"I heard she proposed to build a garden in the village."
"She did?" I wasn't sure if she'd asked Caspian about it yet. It must've been brought up last night while I was on duty at the prison camp.
He nods. "Caspain thinks it's a good idea, too. But I don't think it'll happen anytime soon."
"No," I agree. "There's too much to do, first." We've had council meetings every day trying to sort out the kingdom and prioritize which of Miraz's many messes to clean up first. Unsurprisingly, there's a lot to be done — from patching drafts in the servant quarters to constructing an entire navy and reaching peace with the surrounding lands.
Releasing a large sigh, Peter nods. I can tell he's worried about how we're going to get it all done. There's exhaustion hiding deep in his blue eyes and stress wracking his body at all hours of the day.
"One country at a time," I remind the High King softly. "It's only been three days, you know. You can worry about Calormen next week."
Peter smiles at the quip and clasps my shoulder. "Thank you," he says, squeezing once. "I'll see you later, Witchslayer."
