Edmund stood at the window in Peter's council room, his mind reeling. He didn't have a chance to decompress after the events of Calormen before being issued another challenge. He knew Aslan was testing him in patience, and he felt like he was failing.

Ileana was the worst kind of threat. The one with a tale so outrageously impossible it made him actually question if it could be true. Who would craft a cover story so deceptively complex as to claim to be his wife from the future whom he met in another world? It was madness.

"My daughters and I are spies for the Telmarine Council sent to unhinge the Narnian government."

Had that been the real truth of it all? Edmund had consulted Nalsa after the duel about Ileana's behaviors. The only thing Nalsa had detected that was out of the ordinary was an elevated heart rate, which often suggested the concealment of a falsehood. But they'd been dueling; an elevated heart rate was expected. Had that been the reason behind Ileana's insistence to duel?

Edmund could only conclude that Ileana was either a mad genius, or completely mad, and he was leaning towards the latter.

And yet, Ileana knew things she shouldn't know. The birthmark alone was enough to cause Edmund to doubt her madness. She knew its location and its shape. Though, he would have described it as being shaped like the island of Doorn; Sicily wasn't on any Narnian map for him to compare it to. No one had ever been so intimate and personal with Edmund to see the mark first-hand. He supposed one of the Narnians could have spotted it while he was bathing, and if they revealed such an intimate detail then Narnia had much bigger problems than a few stray girls with an outrageous story.

Aslan and the Hillside was a different matter entirely. No one, not Peter or the girls, not even Nalsa knew what Aslan had said to him that day. He knew Aslan would never tell, and Edmund had sworn he'd never tell as well. Aslan had warned otherwise.

"One day, young Son of Adam, you might find the need to tell the one who will share your heart."

It had sounded like a bunch of loaded rubbish to him at the time, but Edmund didn't dare tell Him that. He suspected Aslan had known anyway, which would explain why the Lion had laughed. Could this be what the Great Lion had meant by it all? Had He known then what would transpire years later?

Behind him, his siblings were quietly discussing Ileana and her daughters and what they believed to be true. Susan believed her, at least in part thanks to her regular discussions with Mr. Tumnus about the other world. Edmund shoved that bit of information aside as something he would have to digest later. Peter remained skeptical. Edmund suspected it was mainly due to Peter's reluctance to believe that they would ever leave Narnia. Edmund wasn't very fond of the idea either; he remembered what a rotten nut he had been before the Battle of Beruna and if the other world played any part in his behavior then, then he didn't want anything to do with it now. Lucy, however, seemed to be fully team Ileana. Lucy's nature was to trust anything that moved, and yet she was an excellent judge of character and her assessments had never been wrong before.

It was all giving Edmund a headache.

"Ed, are you going to weigh in with your thoughts?" Susan asked. He would, if he could sort through them properly.

"I believe..." She is a liar and the worst sort because she's so incredibly good at it. Edmund sighed. "...I have no choice but to believe her. She knew things, things I can't explain her knowing."

"Surely there must be some reasonable explanation?" Peter suggested.

"I could explain away one, but then that would mean we have a traitor living amongst us. The other, however, cannot be explained."

"'When you have eliminated the impossible, whatever remains, however improbable, must be the truth,'" Susan said.

"Yes, dear Sister."

"Well, that's it then, I suppose? Ed has a wife." Peter plopped into the chair. "Cheers, brother." Peter lifted his cup in a salute.

Edmund was unamused. "That's not it, though. There is another matter we must address."

"There is?"

Edmund looked at Susan in disbelief.

"Don't look at me. He's your brother too."

"If we concede to the notion that Ileana is telling the truth about who she is and where she comes from," Edmund began.

"Then we must also concede to the notion that the other world exists and that we will one day return there," Susan finished.

A heaviness hung in the air, during which the four siblings looked at one another in silence. No one wanted to break the spell or be the first to ask about the other place. Finally, Peter, being the oldest, assumed the responsibility.

"Susan," he sighed. "I think it's time you tell us everything you know about this other world."

Dinner was a disaster. Up until then, Ileana had kept her daughters away from the dining hall. But that night, for whatever reason, they were all in there when Edmund walked in.

"Babbo!" The smallest daughter screeched and ran across the marbled floor to reach him. Her hair, Edmund noted, was the same shade as his but she had curls like Ileana. Her wide smile reminded him of Lucy and her eyes were like hot chocolate.

The girl stopped just short of him, her smile fading as she stared at him in confusion.

"Er—Hi..." Edmund quickly tried to recall what her name was, "...Sara?"

Next thing he knew, her bottom lip was trembling and her eyes started pouring tears. "Where's Babbo?" Ileana was at the child's side in an instant. "Mamma, I wan' Babbo."

Ileana began speaking rapidly in another language that the child evidently understood as she replied. Though, mostly her words consisted of 'Babbo.' Ileana eventually had to excuse herself and the child from the dining hall as the child remained unconsolable. Edmund approached the silent table feeling guilty.

"Do either of you know what a bob-oh is?" he asked.

"It's daddy."

Edmund swore under his breath. He hadn't noticed the other daughter sitting with Lucy. Her eyes, he noticed, matched Ileana's but her hair was two shades darker and had none of the curl. Her poise and posture reminded him of Susan which was perhaps why he had overlooked her; at least, that's what he told himself.

"It means daddy," she said again. "It's what we call...our Papà."

"Oh," was all Edmund could say.

Edmund sat down in his usual seat as the meal began. The conversation was stilted and dry. The other daughter, Meri, remained silent and tried to look anywhere else but at Edmund except for the few times she cast him a quick glance. She ended up asking to be excused as well so she could go check on her mother and sister.

"I...I didn't mean to upset them," Edmund said once she was gone.

"Of course not, Ed. We know that. We all have some adjusting to do," Lucy said as she laid a hand on his shoulder. "I'm going to go see how they're doing?"

Edmund sat with his elbows on the mattress, his lips pressed against Lena's hand, and his head bowed in prayer. Even in his grief ridden state, he was acutely aware of the door creaking open and someone entering. He knew it could only be one of three people though, and the lightness of her steps told him it was Lucy. She placed her hand on his shoulder and Edmund knew she had bowed her head to join him. When he finished, he lightly placed his hand over hers.

"How is she?" Lucy asked as she pulled up a chair next to him.

Edmund shook his head. "There hasn't been any change. She just sleeps. I suppose that's the drugs."

Lucy frowned and rubbed the back of his shoulders.

"I keep thinking about those early days when she first arrived," he continued. "I was so cold to her; she was miserable."

"I'm sure she repaid that coldness ten-fold when you found her again."

Edmund chuckled. "Twenty-fold is more like it." He wiped his eyes; laughing made him feel guilty.

"She never blamed you for it, you know. She knew it wasn't the same you; it wasn't her Core-yay."

Edmund smiled. "Cuore," he corrected.

"Core-ay."

"Quaw-ahy."

"Cu... Oh! Let's face it; I'll never be able to speak Italian like the rest of you."

"But you'll enjoy their wines well enough."

"Oh, yes! I have no problems with that." Lucy laughed in a rare moment of light-heartedness. Edmund found himself smiling too, but it didn't last. Smiling made him feel guilty too.

"How are the girls?" he asked.

"Sleeping. Susan is with them now. They are dreaming of faraway lands with castles that gleam on the sea-side, of the Kings and Queens that dwell there, and of the marvelous Beasts that talk."

Edmund could feel her eyes studying him. He knew she probably saw the circles beneath his eyes or perhaps even the redness in them.

"When was the last time you slept, Ed?" she asked.

Edmund shook his head. "I can't. I've tried, but just when I begin to drift off I have a dream in which Lena wakes and she needs me but I'm not there. I...I can't leave her." Edmund swallowed the lump in his throat while Lucy sniffled.

"Please Lu, don't start crying because then I'll start again."

"Oh, I'm s-sorry, Ed." Lucy quickly wiped her eyes and rubbed her nose on the sleeve of her arm.

"Sue would throw a fit if she saw you doing that."

"Well, I won't tell if you don't," Lucy said as Edmund wiped his nose too.

For a while, all that could be heard was the sniffling of tears, the wiping of noses, and the droning of machines. When Edmund spoke again, his voice was hoarse and dry.

"When the girls wake, Lu, will you...will you send them in please? They'll...they'll want to be here when..." The lump was back in his throat and he couldn't finish his sentence.

"Even Sara?"

"Sara..." He swallowed and bit the inside of his cheek. "Sara may be too young to fully understand what's happening, but I won't take the moment from her. And...I'll want to see her again."

"Not as much, I think, as she'll want to see you."

Edmund smiled lightly.

"I'll bring them to you," Lucy continued, standing up to leave. "And, Ed, We're here for you. If you need anything, We're here."

Edmund knew she spoke with the royal We, but it provided little comfort. "What I need, Lu...you can't give me." His voice quivered as he lost the fight against his emotions.

"I may not be able to," Lucy had to wipe her own tears again. "But He can." She kissed the top of his head, and cradled it as they both wept for a moment.

"Lucy, wait... Will you...will you stay a bit longer...and pray with me some more?"

"Of course, Brother." Lucy reclaimed the empty chair, clasped his hand tightly in hers, and led them in prayer.