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"SEF?" Caspian's voice trembles, betraying his terror as he watches me cross the length of the chamber. He glances back at the White Witch, suspended in the wall of ice. "What have you done to her?" He spits.
She smiles sweetly. "Nothing that has not already been done, son of Adam."
The hag shuffles out of my way as I draw closer to the icy circle in which Caspian stands. From atop his perch on the Stone Table, Nikabrik's eyes follow my progress with a smug expression on his bearded face. But my focus is only on the Telmarine prince — the Adam's blood in his veins. His blood.
Caspian's eyes remain locked on mine, filling with panic when a long, sharp talon replaces my index finger.
"...Then I am yours, my king."
He shakes his head, brown irises filling with watery tears. "No," he says hoarsely, fighting to break free. "Please, Sefi, don't do this. You have to fight it– Ah!"
Growling savagely, the werewolf tightens his clawed grip around the prince's ribs, sinking past the leather armour and into his skin. Caspian's face contorts in pain, his outstretched arm shaking. I grasp his wrist, and he murmurs the same, meaningless words over and over again:
"Please, Sef. Please."
Undeterred, I raise my other hand, bringing the sharpened talon to his open palm and pressing down, cutting a long line across his skin despite his cries of protest. By my hand, Adam's blood will run and give rise to the one true Queen of Narnia. By my hand, Jadis will live again.
It is these words that circulate my mind on an endless loop, drowning out everything else so it's all I hear and all I perceive. And from these words and their deafening notion do my actions come about.
Scarlet blood wells from the fresh incision.
I lower my hand, stepping back to observe my queen's long-awaited return. Finally.
Moistening her fingers with her tongue, Jadis reaches out to the confines of her crystallized prison, the blue ice crackling and shifting as it gives way. Gradually, Caspian's struggling subsides. Utterly enthralled by the display, he stares with wide eyes as her hand, pink with the colour of living flesh, emerges bit by bit from the fluid ice.
His heavy breaths frost in the air, feet carrying him one step toward her. Then two. Jadis smiles wickedly at the prince, the distance between them closing with every second.
"Stop!"
Her fierce eyes lift upward at the new voice and what it brings, surprise crossing her features. Her followers react immediately to confront the threat.
