INCIPIENT ➵ EDMUND PEVENSIE

34 | Golden Page in His Story Arc

34 | GOLDEN PAGE IN HIS STORY ARC

"Hang on, your Majesty, I uh-" Ezra digs around his back pocket a little further, "My queen, it uh- seems I do not have the-"

    "Nonsense!" interrupts Jadis, "Why summon me when you are unprepared?"

    "No, fret not, your Majesty. I had it, it is an honest mistake. Must've slipped out of my pocket in the scuffle- It, well, should be here somewhere-" he attempts to salvage the very regreattable circumstances.

    "How dare you humiliate me in front of those who do not belong to our clan? You ought to be sorry for it, unless you get it back, you-"

    Ezra stoops low to scan the ground for a trace of the said vial, arresting the lady's speech fore she can finish, "Yes, I promise I will," he swears under quickening breaths, evidently jittery.

    He pats down on his back pockets, repeating the action more times than necessary just to be absolutely certain that the item isn't there.

    To Edmund, knowledgeable as the boy may appear, he sure is making a dimwit of himself at the moment. The king himself, hands at his sides, fiddles with the fabric of his pants - a habitual action he's developed a liking to whenever he's deep in critical thought - evaluating the odds.

    The odds of destroying Jadis, taking Lucy back untouched, slaying who needs to be exterminated and wrecking this place to embers - no, embers seems too nice a word, perhaps ashes would be a better way to put it - all at once. 

    Is that even a goal achievable? 

    What makes it all the more worse is the fact that they didn't have - and won't have - the chance to scheme up for this battle. And when a team does not have plans up their sleeves, situations will get dire. 

    "Ah, I might just know what's going on," announces Ezra, spinning on his heel, taking off his flimsy spectacle frame like how villains dramatically do and tousling his hair with his fingers-

    It's bemusing how taking off a pair of glasses can alter one's appearance this much.

    Isn't he one of the Gentle's suitors back in the day? One of the many who were so brutally dismissed by Susan?

    This king isn't one to remember the insignificant strangers in life, yet, he's pretty darn sure he recalls the boy as one of the last - or was he the very last? - wooers whom ever dared to request for Susan's hand. He stood apart from the rest with thanks to his well, English accent, which never was common in Narnia.

    This hadn't really sparked any alarm bells back then. The King caught only a glimpse of him as he was dragged through the apple tree courtyard and out of the gates - hurling curses upon them, if I may add - a shared experience of every single one of the courters, in fact.