soldier, poet, king || e. pevensie | slow updates

the soldier • 25

there will come a soldier, who carries a mighty sword. she will tear your city down, oh lei-oh lai-oh lord

Coralia nearly dropped the letter into the bathtub. She was taking her time bathing because it was well past one in the morning and she was the last one.

There was no way. She would've known. Her father couldn't keep the secret that long. He was messing with her for sure. Not to mention that the letter had definitely been tampered with. It was hastily sealed, and Wicus Findlay always took care with his letters. Now to think of who cared that much to look through such a personal letter. As far as she knew, there was no one in town who was so interested in her life that they would read a private letter.

Hell, there was no one in town who was interested in her beyond what was under her bodice. This was someone closer to her. Dantus would never. Maybe the Narnians checked mail to make sure nothing dangerous was being sent to their knights. She doubted it. But really, would Dantus read something addressed to her? If he had changed a great deal since she was gone, then maybe. If he hadn't, then maybe he'd break into it as a joke. Either way, there was a high chance that he knew her heritage now. Did it matter? It shouldn't be a secret. But the thought that Dantus possibly knew before she did was upsetting.

Who could she bring this to? The physician? They hadn't spoken since the day after the ball, so he probably wouldn't care much. She and Edmund were apparently not on great terms
at the moment, considering how he hardly spoke to her during training. Dasia was asleep already. The other knights would be interested maybe the next day, but not enough to be woken up about it.

Edmund would probably still be awake. He would at least pretend to be interested. But not just then. Not after what he'd done that morning, not after how he excluded her during training. Going to his rooms at this hour meant either being turned away or having to have a deep conversation that she didn't have the energy for.

Damn that fucking King Edmund. She couldn't stand him, especially not lately. She decided
to just go to sleep and talk with Dasia the next day.

How she ended up knocking on King Edmund's door just minutes after that decision, she did
not know. But she had already knocked and there was no turning back. After waiting a minute, she turned around. It was a stupid idea in the first place. Of course he wasn't awake. What would she even say to him? There was nothing that—

In a split second, she was standing in the dimly lit bedroom of King Edmund. She would've thought she had teleported if not for his strong — but gentle — grip on her arm.

"Care to share why you're here at this time?"

Coralia took a deep breath and held out the letter for Edmund to read. He took the pages and lifted a candle towards them. After an agonizing couple of minutes, he handed it back to her.

"That's new."

Coralia nodded, looking up at him. She was getting better at the eye contact thing. It was easier in the dark, especially now that he couldn't see any blushing he may cause. And cause it, he did. The eye contact was easy because it helped her not to look at the pants hanging low on his hips. Somehow the man had managed to strip himself of his shirt even after she dressed him in pajamas. So there they stood, looking at each other in silence.

She looked him up and down, then raised an eyebrow.

"I promise I didn't do it just for you this time. I was overheating. Unless you'd like me to keep the shirt off."

"Your Majesty, I need you to focus for a second.  I just found out something about myself that changes my life and could potentially help Narnia in a war. I'd love it if you could stop trying to make me blush right now."