For five days Edmund tried to avoid Ileana and her daughters at all costs. He took meals in his chambers, he avoided the beach and music room, and he had Nalsa coordinate with Bea on his and Ileana's time in the training grounds so they wouldn't overlap. He didn't do any of this to be cruel, quite the opposite actually. He was trying to prevent Ileana and her daughters from becoming upset in his presence again. He was trying to keep them comfortable.

For five days Edmund tried to avoid Ileana and her daughters, and He failed miserably. They were everywhere. Their laughter haunted him around every corner. Their voices drifted in through every open window. And Ileana must have really liked training because she seemed to always be on the grounds.

Edmund was at a loss of what to do. He knew he couldn't continue on with his botched attempts to avoid her, but he also knew it was highly uncomfortable for the both of them to be in each other's presence. Ileana wanted to leave Narnia, but he and his siblings didn't know how to make that happen. Edmund had asked Susan to tell him all she knew about how they arrived in Narnia at least a hundred times a day. "I'm not discussing this with you anymore, Ed. If you have further questions, then ask Mr. Tumnus yourself!" Susan had said last time he attempted to ask her.

So, at first light of the sixth day, Edmund left with a small company with the intention of doing just that. Mr. Tumnus had resided at the Cair serving as their Ambassador and aide throughout much of their early reign. The last few years, however, the old Faun said his age and weariness were catching up to him, and he had returned to his den in Lantern Waste.

It was a five-day ride to Mr. Tumnus' den. There was little Edmund loved more though, than camping out under the Narnian stars; he was entrusted to the Great Western Wood after all and he took that to heart. Every morning he woke with the sun and birds singing. And every evening he dozed off to the sound of the crickets. Still, it was a welcomed relief when he arrived at the little cave set in the mountain side.

After a brief luncheon of tea and sardines, during which Edmund filled the old Faun in on the details of Ileana's arrival and asked once more for the story of how he and his siblings had arrived, Mr. Tumnus agreed to lead Edmund back to where he first found Lucy. Edmund felt an odd sensation as they hiked through the woods together. Strange smells and sounds that didn't belong to a forest came to him. He remembered something about a game of cricket and broken glass, and large metal birds that made the ground shake when they flew by. Until at last they stopped by a short, skinny tree made of iron upon which sat a flaming light.

"You called it a lantern, when you first arrived," Mr. Tumnus said.

"Yes. Hence the name Lantern Waste; I remember that now. They lined the streets in town and had to be lit by hand." Edmund ran his hand around the old pole, now covered in vines and foliage. "There was a war. We had to leave our home. We stayed with the Professor..."

Edmund stopped his thoughts abruptly. This was counterproductive. He wasn't here to remember; he was here to find a way to return Ileana and her daughters to the world from which they came.

"Which way did Lucy come from? Do you remember?"

"I do indeed. It was this way, not far." Mr. Tumnus directed Edmund to a densely packed thicket beyond the lantern with no way around it.

"Right then. I shall have to pass through to see what lies on the other side," Edmund said.

"I do not like that plan, my King," Nalsa said.

"And do you have a better one, my Friend?"

"We return to the Cair and forget this place. There is magic here."

"Yes, I feel it too, but I cannot return, not until I know I have tried everything to return Ileana and her daughters to their world. Wait here for my return." He laid a parting hand on Nalsa's head.

"Do be careful, King Edmund," Mr. Tumnus called out. "I would not like to be the one to tell the High King or your Sister Queens of your disappearance."

Edmund smiled lazily. "Nor do I wish to disappear. I will simply look for the door, but not step through it."

Edmund slowly began picking his way through the thicket. He tried to keep an open line of sight on Nalsa and Mr. Tumnus. When that failed, he audibly kept them updated on his progress. All the while the smells and sounds he'd had earlier grew stronger in his mind. "Edmund! Come back." "Why can't you just do as you're told?" "Oh, well done, Ed." "The Macready!"

Edmund broke through the thicket with a rush of relief, sweat beading on his brow. The smells and sounds vanished abruptly; the memories quickly faded. He stood in a densely shaded forest but there was no door nor any sign that there had ever been a door. Edmund felt His presence behind him so suddenly there was no time to prepare, such was the way of the Great Lion. Edmund swiftly turned and dropped to the ground, laying his sword over one knee and bowing his head.

"Aslan." he whispered in reverence.

"Arise, my Chosen," the Lion replied. Edmund obeyed. "Why did you come here?"

Edmund knew the Lion already knew the answer, but he responded anyway. "I came looking for a way to send Ileana and her daughters home."

"It is not yet time for them to leave."

"So you do have a plan for them here? Any chance you care to share that plan with Us?"

The Lion smiled but did not answer.

"Yeah, I didn't think so." Edmund sighed wearily.

"Why are you troubled, my King?"

"Why? Because I have a wife and two daughters I do not know."

"And how can you begin to know them when you are here and they are at Cair Paravel?"

"What if I am uncertain in my desire to know them?"

"Why is that? What have they done to warrant your distance?"

"The daughters have done nothing, but Ileana...she is obstinate and impertinent. The Narnians are uneasy around her, and I have heard that she has said terrible things about them. How could I ever possibly love someone who hates what I love?"

There was a low rumbling growl that Edmund felt throughout his entire body. He instantly dropped to one knee. "Forgive me, Aslan. I do not mean to question Your judgment."

The Great Lion stepped forward and nuzzled his nose against Edmund's cheek. Edmund reached up to curl his hands in the Lion's mane.

"You must be brave, my King, and patient, for she will try them. The Narnia she knows is very different from the one you have come to know, but who better to redeem it in her eyes than the one whom I have redeemed? Trust in the plans I have for the both of you."

"I will, Aslan. I will trust in You, always."

It was another five-day ride for Edmund to return to Cair Paravel. He knew in order to keep his promise to Aslan, he had to find a way to forge a co-existence with Ileana and her—his—their daughters. He thought it would be easiest to start with the oldest daughter as she could help with the youngest and the relations he would have with Ileana were far too intimate to tackle head on.

Edmund found Meri one morning in the music room alone. Her fingers were dancing across the harpsichord, striking with delicate ease tunes and chords he'd not heard before. He could do little more than stand in awe until she was finished.

"That was beautiful," he praised with a clap. It was clear by her wide-eyed look and jump that she hadn't known he was there. "I'm sorry; I didn't mean to startle you."

"It's...it's all right... your Majesty," she added hastily. "It wouldn't have mattered if you came in with a full army. I'm so engrossed in my music when I play that the world could be burning around me and I'd have no idea. Mamma says I need to pay more attention to my surroundings, but I believe music should be felt as much as it is heard. And how can I make others feel when I do not?"

"I think I would have to agree with you," Edmund said. "However, there is a certain logic..."

"...to my mother's words. That if I were to see their emotion, then I could expand on it, manipulate it to my own satisfaction," she finished for him. "We've had this conversation before."

"I see. Well then, it must be exceptional advice if I'm so inclined to give it twice." Edmund smiled awkwardly while Meri shook her head. "So, ah—" he coughed; "who wrote that?"

"I did."

Edmund noticed her cheeks tinge in red. "Wow. That's remarkable. I'm...wow." The red in her cheeks darkened.

"Thank you... your Majesty."

Edmund moved in closer while Meri kept her head down. Her fingers were trailing lightly over the keys once more. He felt music was the way in, but he wasn't quite sure how.

"Did...did your mother teach you how to play?"

Meri laughed, finally lifting her head in a smile. "No. I'm sorry, Sir, but if you knew Mamma the way Babbo does, then you too would see the humor in that question. As beautiful as Mamma's voice is when she sings she cannot play an instrument for anything. Her fingers are too short for the piano. She hasn't the lips for the flute. And she cannot sustain the embouchure for any of the brass instruments."

"I...I just assumed. I remember she mentioned a music lesson, and I thought she must have...She must have found you a good instructor then." Edmund felt like an idiot. He was a King of Narnia, the Just King. He presided over the law. He spoke with dignitaries of all nations and of all breeds. Yet here he was, fumbling his words with his teenage daughter.

"No...not exactly anyway." Meri almost seemed to hesitate before elaborating. "The flute, clarinet, and lyre I taught myself. Mamma taught me voice, but...it was Babbo who introduced me to the piano."

And there it was: his way in, but perhaps not the way he was hoping for. It had been years since he last played for the Narnians.

"May I?" he asked, pointing to the bench she sat on.

"Yes, of course." Meri stepped aside, allowing him full access to the keys. It was slow going at first, and the tempo remained unsteady as his fingers struggled to find the correct notes, but he doled out an old familiar tune. Or part of it at least; he couldn't bear to make her suffer the whole thing.

"That was..."

"Horrible? Atrocious? Unbearable? And painful to listen to? You can say it, truly. You won't offend me."

"I was going to be a bit nicer about it. I'm not as blunt as Mamma can be."

Edmund smiled. "It appears I'm a bit rusty. I shall have to resume my practices if I'm to teach you one day."

"To be perfectly honest, if I may?"

"Yes, please, by all means."

"You...you were never really that good." His mouth opened in shock. "But! You taught me the basics and your constant encouragement pushed me to succeed."

"Well then, in that I shall not falter." He smiled up at her. "Is there anything else I have encouraged or instructed you in?"

"Dueling, or fencing with a twist as you call it there."

"Ah. Now that is something I am not rusty in. Would you like to resume your lessons while you're here?"

Meri bit her lip. "Maybe. There...there is something else I'd like to try; I haven't been able to do much of it there, well any of it actually."

"Name it. If it is within my abilities and it's not too dangerous, we will see it done."

"I'd like to learn how to ride a horse," she all but blurted out. "Sara and I have asked Babbo for one a dozen times, but Mamma always says no."

"Alas, I'm not so great at teaching one how to ride; it took me years to accomplish it myself." Meri's face fell; Edmund rushed to correct it. "But, I do know the perfect instructor. How would you like to meet my friend Philip?"

Meri's face was ablaze with excitement. "Do you mean the Philip? The talking Horse Philip?"

"I do," Edmund said with a chuckle.

"But I thought it wasn't proper to ride a talking Horse?"

"Ah." Edmund stood. "It's not, but Philip is the exception. You see, I was so dreadful at riding that Philip insisted on being the only Horse I ever rode. And who better to teach how to ride a horse than a Horse? So, are you in?"

"Yes, please! And thank you...your Majesty."

"If we're going to do this, let's make one thing clear: no more of this 'your Majesty' stuff. Let's drop the titles; simply call me Edmund."