back, again | prince caspian

eighteen

"Come on, Queen Tori, we need to change your dress into something formal," a woman in her late thirties said, her voice warm yet commanding. Her hands moved with purpose as she picked through the outfits laid across my bed, searching for something that would befit a queen.

I glanced at her, a bit taken aback. "Where are the others?" I asked, my curiosity piqued as I wondered about my companions.

"They have their own attendants. They are also fixing themselves up," she answered honestly, glancing back at me with a hint of a smile as she held up a deep blue fabric that shimmered in the morning light.

"If you won't mind me asking, what is your name?" I inquired, moving towards the ornate chair positioned in front of the mirror, the golden trim gleaming.

"Martha, your majesty," she replied respectfully, her tone warm and comforting.

"That's a beautiful name, Martha," I nodded, trying to ease the formality that lingered in the air. The sound of her name rolled off my tongue with familiarity, as if we were already friends.

"Why do we need to change into formal clothing if we are already wearing something nice from breakfast?" I asked, curiously glancing at the ensemble she held.

"It was Aslan's order, my queen," she replied, moving back to my side with the dress in hand. She placed it strategically beside me before reaching to touch my hair. Looking at me through the mirror, she raised an eyebrow, and I nodded in silent agreement.

Martha's hands worked deftly, arranging my hair into an intricate style that involved twists and braids interwoven with flowers. "It is beautiful, thank you, Martha," I remarked, genuinely impressed. In just ten minutes, she showcased her skill, tucking delicate blossoms into my hair, which glowed against the hues of my gown.

"It will not look beautiful if you don't look like one, my queen," Helena chimed in as she entered the room, cradling the dress that would complete my formal look. She had an air of confidence and purpose.

"For this, you might need a hand; it is hard to wear," Martha noted, reaching for the dress with a practiced efficiency. As she slipped it into my hands, I felt the weight of the fabric and the elegance of it.

"Martha?" I called out, but when I heard silence, I raised my voice. "Martha? Can you help me with this corset?"

A rustle of movement from outside drew my attention, but I had to get the corset right. I positioned myself as best as I could against the curtain door, trying to retain my modesty while holding the bodice close to my chest.

"Martha, don't tighten it too much," I stammered, feeling it cinch against my ribs and take my breath away. Once I was satisfied, I thanked her and continued to pull the dress over my head, its intricate dark blue floral patterns dancing against the white fabric. The gown hugged my figure perfectly, complemented by the elegant V-neckline that exposed just a hint of my collarbone and flowed seamlessly to the floor.

"Isn't this too formal? How will I even ride a horse in this dress?" I exclaimed, concerned as I stepped out from behind the curtain, glancing at my reflection.

Upon returning to my bedroom, laughter erupted from a familiar corner of the room, catching my attention. "What's the Pevensies siblings doing in my room? Is this the hangout room now?" I joked lightly, and their laughter stilled momentarily as all heads turned my way.

"Only you could manage to make us look upon you as if you were one of the goddesses," Edmund quipped, grinning as he rose to his feet. He stepped behind me, his hands working to tie the back of the dress.

As I settled on the edge of the bed, the room filled with confused glances from Susan and Peter, all of us sharing the same unspoken concern.

"Peter guessed that later at the celebration in the village, Aslan might announce something about us leaving Narnia," Edmund said, his voice turning serious.