The Cair Royals

What True Journalism Is About

"Who knew getting the chance to cover a coronation would also mean me getting the biggest story of the year?" Sanya mused rather darkly to herself as she found another shard of glass in her hair, opened her laptop, and began to type, letting her mind wander to the night's events.

Some hours earlier:-

"This is- enormous." Ivy breathed as she and Sanya tottered up the steps to the Main Entrance of Cair Paravel.

"Very big and fancy interiors too." The brunette replied, looking around curiously. "I've never been this way, actually- and is it supposed to be so empty?"

"Maybe we're- oh, Your Majesty!" Ivy picked up the sides of her white gown and curtsied as Queen Susan, resplendent in silver, came in view.

"Good evening, Ms.-" She asked, looking at Sanya confusedly.

"Yarrow, Ivy Yarrow, Your Majesty." The blonde straightened up.

"She works with me, and I was told I could bring a plus one...?" Sanya looked unsurely to the Queen, who nodded, flustered.

"Oh, yes, but I didn't expect-" The pale brunette shook her head. "Never mind. You're early, actually, guests won't start arriving till 7 and it's only 6 now."

"But I was- told 6." The Indian was confused- surely her eyesight wasn't THAT bad.

"Yes, I expect Edmund had something to talk to you about." Susan subtly rolled her eyes before calling. "ED! EDMUND!"

"What?" An irritated voice came. "I thought I was to keep far away from the door and only talk to political dignitaries."

"I assumed you'd want to talk to journalists."

"Why would I- oh! Sanya!" Edmund almost blushed as the young woman came into view. "Hello."

"Hi." The brunette straightened herself up as she greeted the King, looking at the various medals and honours tucked onto his very well fitted tux- suit? "You- er-"

"You look beautiful." He told her, realising she couldn't get her words out. "Red and silvery-gold suit you very well."

"Thank you." She replied, wishing she was back in her pyjamas in her apartment, ALONE. "You look- very good too."

Is THIS what her Oxford education amounted to? 'Very good'?

"I'm Ivy Yarrow, I'm her date." The blonde decided to speak, seeing her friend lose the ability to speak, curtseying again. "Pleased to meet you, Your Majesty."

Edmund stepped back, having been just about to ask if the young journalist wanted a tour before guests started arriving but well- not anymore. "Oh." He quickly recovered, saying, "Very nice to make your acquaintance."

He then turned to his sister. "I'll be with Peter inside." He nodded at the two journalists, eyes lingering on Sanya for a moment longer than necessary, before departing.

"Oh, it seems you weren't the only ones to come earl- oh, goodness. It's the Telmarines..." Susan seemed to be talking to herself by the end of her observation.

Sanya turned, as did her companion, to see a small group she vaguely recognised from the news.

Striding out in front, was Lord Miraz of the English side-Island of Telmar.

His features were sharp as his aged eyes spoke of unnecessary, unadulterated power, yet seemed more aged than what should belonging to a man in his mid-40s.

Slightly behind him was his heavily pregnant wife, (Prunaprismia, Sanya knew her name to be), eyes, once again, much more wearied than they should be for someone of her age.