The Early Chronicles Book Three: Narnia and the North

Chapter 1

"Lady Laurel Devonte!  A pleasure as always."  Count Nevan smiled and kissed Laurel's hand.  Laurel forced a polite smile.

"The pleasure is mine, Count Nevan."  Though she knew this was anything but pleasure.  Her parents, the Duke and Duchess Devonte smiled triumphantly.

"Perhaps you could take the count on a ride this afternoon, darling?"  Her mother hinted, even though before the count's arrival she had already asked this question.

"Perhaps we can manage a short ride before it rains."  Laurel answered.  "Would that be to your liking, Count Nevan?"

"Very much!"  The man clasped his hands together which made his golden bracelets clang together.  Count Nevan was extremely rich but seemed to dress better than the king of Archenland.  He wore a bright purple robe with golden embroidery and a medallion over his chest.  He had ruby rings on three fingers and golden bracelets on both wrists.  His beard was dark and pointed and he wore a ridiculous feathered hat.  He was short for a man, but was regarded as very handsome by most women Laurel knew, though it was hard to tell with all the finery and jewels he wore.  

"Shall we retire to the garden for lunch?"  Duke Devonte motioned with his hand to the veranda. They took their seats at the finely adorned table as servants hurried about to fill their glasses.  Laurel's mother and father had insisted on using the finest china for Count Nevan's visits.  It made Laurel happy to see her parents so excited about something, but she did not share their excitement.  No formal conversation had been made between Count Nevan and herself about marriage, but Laurel had often seen the three of them talking together quietly and she was sure the subject was hinted at.  Goodness knows it was hinted at to her more than once by the Duke and Duchess.

"Are you very fond of horse-racing, Lady Laurel?"  The count's question startled Laurel out of her thoughts.

"I regret to say I haven't taken much interest in the sport."  Laurel admitted.  She didn't say so, but she hated to see perfectly beautiful animals beaten with whips to make them run faster.

"Perhaps you haven't had enough exposure.  I must take you to the track I visit most often.  The styles of clothing and the beautiful horses would be enough to take your breath away, I'm sure!"  

"Do you have any horses that participate, Count Nevan?"  Duke Devonte asked.  The count took another sip from his glass before replying.

"I've tried in the past, but my horses never did very well.  I was losing more money from racing than I made watching."

This implied that he took wagers on the animals.  Laurel's opinion on the man dropped even more, but perhaps she should make an effort in the conversation.

"Have you any interest in reading, your grace?"  She asked him.

"A man as busy as myself has little time for such pleasures," he chuckled, "but I do enjoy a book of poetry from time-to-time."

"My favorite subject is history.  It's fascinating to learn about how our countries were founded, don't you think?"  She hoped to find some sort of connection with him.  He politely nodded, and she continued.  "The Great King Frank and Queen Helen who first ruled this land were brought here from another world, and Aslan crowned them soon after he made the animals speak for the first time.  Many generations have passed since them, but we are still prospering and living by their example and influence.  Isn't that fascinating?"  Laurel could tell by the glazed look forming in Count Nevan's eyes that she was wasting her time.  The rest of the meal proved dull and uncomfortable, as Laurel was forced to seem polite and interested when all she wanted to do was run and hide.

"Perhaps we could ride along the sea shore?"  Laurel asked as she mounted her horse Ira.  

"That sounds invigorating!"  Count Nevan said with enthusiasm.  Laurel led the way down the well-worn path she often took on her morning rides.  The clouds were darkening overhead and Laurel hoped the rain could put a damper on their outing soon.  They rode downwards through the grassy hills before reaching the cliffside that rose above the beach.  

"I say!  You truly have amazing scenery here!"  The count marveled.  Laurel beamed with pride.  

"Narnia has some truly magnificent landscapes, your grace.  have you ever traveled far enough North to see the Chateau Kent?"  Laurel sighed as she remembered the beautiful countryside surrounding the queen's home.

"Indeed I did once.  Beautiful gardens but the castle was a bit small and old-fashioned."  He said with a wave of his hand.  Laurel thought the castle had looked like the perfect fairytale, but she didn't say anything.

"Have you met the queen?"  Was all she said.

"I met her when she was on a diplomatic visit to Calormen last month.  Charming young girl, but rather young and inexperienced, I thought."  The count sniffed.  Laurel had only formally met the queen once, even though her parents had frequent dealings with her.  Though she hadn't spent much time with her, Laurel thought their ruler was rather wise and very caring.  She'd heard that the queen and some of her men had been on a voyage to the Lone Islands and stopped a greedy governor from enslaving his own people.  Someone 'young and inexperienced' couldn't have done that.  Just then they heard a soft rumble of thunder in the distance.

"We should head back."  Laurel tried to hide her relief.

"But if it rains, we could have the perfect excuse to find shelter and wait for it to clear."  The count said with a chuckle.  Laurel's back prickled.

"My parents would be very worried, and I don't think that is wise."  Without waiting for his response, she turned Ira around and began trotting back towards home.

"Count Nevan is staying the night?"  Swanwhite repeated to her mother.

"Yes of course!  We can't have him sailing home in this storm now, could we?"  Her mother stroked Laurel's dark brown hair and Laurel could smell the strong perfume her mother always wore.  Laurel should have guessed the count was staying the night.  He had stayed for several days on occasion, and the visits were becoming more frequent.

"Mother, he makes me feel... uncomfortable."  Laurel confessed.  The Duchess stood back with a wrinkled brow.

"Darling!  Whatever makes you feel that way?  He's attentive, charming, handsome, and-"

"Rich?"  Laurel finished her mother's thought.  The Duchess cocked her head.

"Now dearest you know that we only want you to be comfortable and well-off.  There is nothing wrong with pairing you with a wealthy man."

"No of course not, Mother."  Laurel sighed, "I just don't feel right about him, and I don't love him." 

"Perhaps you're just jumping to a decision too quickly."  Her mother stroked Laurel's hair again.  "Give him some time and I'm sure you'll feel differently about him."  Duchess Devonte kissed Laurel's forehead and then left the room hurriedly.  Laurel sank down on her bed and sighed for the thousandth time that day.