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𝐁𝐋𝐎𝐎𝐌𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐑𝐎𝐒𝐄𝐒 𝐒𝐏𝐈𝐑𝐀𝐋𝐋𝐄𝐃 𝐀𝐑𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐃 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐖𝐇𝐈𝐓𝐄 𝐂𝐎𝐋𝐔𝐌𝐍𝐒 that supported the glass dome and their flowery scent spread all through the throne room. The dryads of Narnia had sung their songs to the rose stems in preparation for the wedding ─ to make sure the decorations would fit the ambiance ─ but the flowers would possibly need another magical push before that day arrived; seven sunrises from now.

At the moment, the throne room was empty apart from Peter and Rosaleen, and the rays of the late-morning sun fell like a curtain of light through the glass. They stood in front of the stairs that lead with seven steps up to the thrones' platform and Peter removed Rosaleen's blindfold, gently untying the knot of the red silk fabric to make sure he didn't tug at her blonde waves. He stuffed the blindfold between his belt and his trousers before wrapping his arms around her waist from standing behind her.

'What do you think?' Peter asked, leaning his lips against the back of her head and the scent of vanilla and melons of her soap filled his nose. It was a fragrance he'd never get enough of.

Rosaleen blinked a few times, her eyesight adjusting to the change between darkness and light, and her gaze fell upon the fifth throne on the platform.

The throne was wrapped in fiery colours thanks to the sunlight that fell through the gigantic stained glass window, rising up at the back of the platform, and it was sculpted out of the same kind of stones as the other four thrones. Its backrest wasn't as tall as the others but in the top was carved an emblem as well: Rosaleen's twin swords crossed in front of the petals of a blooming rose. The new throne stood next to Peter's, at his right side if they sat down in them.

'The red dwarves have been working without a break when I asked them to make it three days ago,' Peter said, the proud timbre sounding through his voice.

'It's beautiful,' Rosaleen said in awe, but she paused for a moment as she searched for the right words. Her hand moved up to touch the scars at the back of her neck that reached above the hem of her red dress. It was a habit of uncertainty she had picked up after the battle with the Silver Reflections one year ago, but Peter caught her hand before she could do so. He laced his fingers between hers and rested both of their hands on her stomach.

'But?' he asked as he could hear the unspoken word in her voice.

'But,' she repeated, 'it doesn't feel right to see it standing there. Cair Paravel is the citadel of the four thrones, not five. You're ruling Narnia with your siblings.'

Peter turned her around in his arms so that they faced each other and he placed his hands at the sides of her face, softly stroking her cheeks with his thumbs as he forced her to look up at him. 'You're becoming my Queen, Rose, and a Queen of the Narnians. You deserve your own throne.'