unwelcome revelation


Library
Cair Paravel
Eastern Narnia


Lanisen sits under a window, the tabletop and the page in front of him illuminated by a bright blade of sunlight that slants down through the narrow window. It catches and refracts through a glass of water at his elbow, sending wavering specks of rainbow light dancing across the table.

Peridan enters the library. He greets the librarian and says a few words before looking around. Spying Lanisen, the man heads in that direction, “Hello Lanisen.” Peridan seems much happier these days.

Lanisen looks up alertly and gets to his feet to bow. “Afternoon, sir,” he answers.

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the weight of four crowns


Library
Cair Paravel
Eastern Narnia


Lanisen has hidden himself away in one of the deep chairs by the cold fireplace, a lamp lit at his side for reading light.

Peridan walks into the library, greeting the librarian. He heads over to one of the shelves, speaking to the librarian, “The volume is up here, right?” Getting a glare, he covers his mouth and hisses, “I apologize.” He begins to climb the ladder to get to the highest level.

Lanisen lifts his head from his book and peers around the wings of the chair at the familiar voice.

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day 3: over and done


Gathering Circle
Lantern Waste


Peridot’s eyes follow his toward the tent and then go back to the Prince. She bows again. “Thank you, your highness. I want to do my part for their Majesties as well. They have been good to us beasts.”

Cor says, “I’m sure we — I’m sure we all want that.” He takes a breath. “Lord Peridan might be better to talk to.”

Peridan ducks out of the tent, rubbing his forehead for a moment before straightening his shoulders and walking toward the fire where the others are gathered.

Continue reading day 3: over and done

up is down


Staff Quarters
Castle Anvard


You stand in a circular tower which serves as a sort of corridor. In the center is a stone pillar, around which stairs are placed, rising to the Nobles’ Quarters above. To the south is the Sewing Room. All around are small tidy rooms, the staff quarters. To the east is the Inner Ward.


Lanisen is locking the door to his room. He tests the knob once, twice, and slips the key on its cord under his collar, where it hangs like a necklace.

Dalia slips out of her room, locking her own door with a soft click and slipping the key into a small pocket.

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half-dropped eaves


Reservoir Chamber
Castle Anvard


The lowest level of the noble’s tower is a broad, round chamber, fairly dark, but lit by sconces on the walls and a row of small, arching windows high near the ceiling. To the north, three windows look out onto the pastures at ground level, though it is difficult to see much in detail; to the east, a single wider window offers a glimpse of the comings and goings in the inner ward. Wide steps curve up around a pillar in the center of the room, leading up to the servants’ floor, and an archway to the southwest leads down a long, dim corridor toward the kitchen.

Sunk into the ground around the chamber’s central pillar is an enormous reservoir, filled with enough clean, clear water to fill all the bath-tubs in the castle, and then some. In the morning, the sunlight from the east window reflects off the surface of the water and fills the chamber with dancing light.


Colin leads Lord Peridan down the stairs to the reservoir chamber and takes a turn for the dungeon corridor. He glances up slightly and then slows, squinting at one of the windows. He looks at his cousin, confusion on his face. “Is that…”

Peridan coughs, “Yes, that is.”

Colin looks at him. “Wait, you know about it? What happened? How did it break?”

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barriers


Kennel Loft
Castle Anvard


An unfamiliar voice calls up to the loft. “Lanisen? Squire Lanisen, are you there?” There is a note of urgency in the tone.*

Lanisen peers down the steps after a brief pause. “I’m here?” he calls uneasily.

A young man Lanisen might have seen on watch patrols lately looks up. “Squire, you ain’t to eat anything.” He wrings his hands. “I mean, Sir Colin says you ain’t.”

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catching up


Kennel Loft
Castle Anvard


There is a strong and clear voice that drifts up the stairs, “Lanisen, It is Lord Peridan. Can I come up?”

Lanisen is sitting alone on the floor by the window in the north wall, his bad leg stretched out in front of him and his good leg tucked under it. He has a book open on his lap, and is holding a piece of bread away from a hopeful hound. He straightens slightly at the call, surprised, then gets to his feet and goes to the steps to see.

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