Don't judge a book by its cover

Proof of what we had

"So, Edmund," started Lucy, breaking the silence. Well, it wasn't much of a silence; the pen dragging on the paper would make a "scraaatch, skrrit" and the pages would go "flap, floop." 

The silence was between Lucy and her brother.

She liked doing that; sit somewhere and listen to the silence.
Usually, when Edmund would write in this odd-looking book.
He wrote all day, anytime he could. No snacks or bathroom breaks. He would come down eating, excuse himself and go back upstairs to write.
It was like living with a ghost or a very moody teenager.
Even when he was a King, Edmund would not be so devoted to a task.

The adolescent girl admired this commitment; she couldn't stay still for more than a minute.
That's why she was upside down, in Eustace's bedroom – he and Edmund shared one– watching him scribble in silence.

It started a few days ago, weeks after they came back from Narnia.
The magic land would be dearly missed by all of them, especially Lucy.
The thought of never seeing Aslan, Reepicheep or any of her was giving her chills and tears up her.

The ancient queen would usually push the terrible thoughts away, busy herself with whatever chore she had to do in this household.
Every so often, Eustace would help. The relationship with her cousin had considerably bloomed in Narnia. It was nice to converse with the blond about the magic land, and how it was before the Telmarins.

But what was the real world anyway? A world without talking lions, fawn, snow witches, kings, and castles? Maybe lions didn't chat(She made sure of it, addressing all the felines in the city's zoo when she was younger.), satyr were only fairy tales, but Lucy knew people could be as cold as ice.

She missed the warmth of Cair Paravel, the salty smell of shimmering sea on the Dawn Treader, the gentle wind blowing in her hair, and the tickling feelings of abundant grass on her bare feet.

She missed the softness of Aslan's golden fur, his deep voice, and sage words.

Sure, she didn't have a crown resting on her head, but the young girl felt like the weight of the world rested on her shoulder, crushing.
What's the difference between royal duties and daily responsibilities?
At least she had fun as Queen, surrounded by her family and friends.

And apparently, she wasn't alone to miss Narnia.
Lucy isn't to talk about it, but one day when she was washing the dishes, Eustace told her that Edmund was whispering about castles, a prince and adventures oversea.

The brunette certainly knew about her brother's obsession with gold, politics, and nobless. That part of Narnia was perhaps what he missed most.

In lack of an answer, she continued.

"I have meant to ask; what must you be drafting in that book for it to take so much focus and time? Is it a diary? Didn't yourself said diaries were for little girls?," she asked, straightening herself up. The young man set down his pen, sighing. He didn't loved being interrupted.

He let himself fall in his chair, being on its edge seconds ago.
For once that Eustace wasn't rumbling about bugs or complaining about something, his devoted sister had to bother him.
Gathering a deep breath, Edmund opened his mouth.

"It is a private journal. I'm documenting everything that happened. I don't think either of our dear siblings took that initiative before leaving for the Americas. Therefore, I'm doing it," he answered impatiently, eager to go back to his so-called journal. For anybody else, this ambiguous answer would've been unsatisfactory. But Lucy knew better than that.