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WALKING IN THE WIND
xi. THE MOST IMPORTANT MEAL OF THE DAY

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  WHEN HOPE WAS YOUNGER, her father said the best thing she could do for others was to simply be kind. He told her to help others, even when they didn't ask for it or refused it, and to always challenge one's cruelty with compassion. "You never know what someone's going through," he'd say, "so always be courteous to people, no matter how badly they might not deserve it." Hope didn't understand what he meant until she was older.

  Devoting one's life to spreading kindness and helping others seemed like a good legacy to have, so once her father passed, she swore to heed his words every day. It was what he would've wanted, regardless if he was alive or not. If anything, it gave Hope more motivation to do her job efficiently, which was based entirely on helping and serving others anyway.

  That was why she was currently in the kitchen aiding the Narnians as they prepared for dinner. Hope knew it wasn't her place, but she wanted to help out. Besides, she figured she would have to befriend the Narnians at some point. Why not start early?

  Being around more creatures than mere humans was a culture shock to the Wysterian. Of course, there were fauns and minotaurs and such in Wysteria, but they were considered rare. They flocked wherever magic was plentiful, so she supposed it made sense there was an abundance of creatures in Narnia instead of humans. Thankfully, they welcomed her instantaneously. They were grateful for her assistance. It was moments like these where she prayed her father was looking down at her from Aslan's Country with a proud smile.

  As Hope aided them, they shared Narnian stories only a true native would know. They told her about the Long Winter and Aslan, who visited Narnia on rare occasions. They suggested that perhaps he would visit sometime soon to congratulate Edmund and Odette on their marriage. The idea of meeting the majestic lion sent butterflies to her stomach.

  Dinner was to be served soon, which meant all hands were on deck. The Narnians were eager to impress their guests with every meal. Now that Hope was in their administration, they constantly harassed her with questions regarding cuisine she knew nothing about. Helping out back home was so much easier in contrast to Narnia, she concluded.

  "Lion's Mane, you look like you're about to pass out."

  Hope glanced up from her workstation to see Edmund lingering near the entrance to the kitchen. He was watching her, shamelessly grinning at her distress. Nonetheless, she offered him a friendly smile, which caused his smile to grow, too.

  As he approached her, she greeted, "Did you know sauces, of all things, could have so many components? Are your chefs always this particular about mealtime? This is the first time I've been in here to help out, so I'm worried about messing anything up—"

  His chuckles interrupted her. He asked, "You realize you're a guest here, right? You don't have to help out back here or anywhere for that matter." Tilting her head, Hope began to reply, only for him to continue, "Oh, right. I'm sorry, I forgot you don't know what it means to stop overworking yourself."

  A scoff left here as she plucked a berry from the dessert platter beside her, tossing it at his face. She watched as he caught it in his mouth, semi-impressed. "It's not my fault! It's fun!" she excused.

  "You didn't look like you were having fun just now."

  "Then, stop looking!"

  Silence.

  Hope held her breath, failing to refrain from smirking as she bit her lower lip. Only a few seconds passed before they erupted with laughter.

  "That was awful!" Edmund bantered. "I'm afraid I might've corrupted you. I miss the days when you were nice to me out of fear."

  Hope snorted. She supposed they had become rather close in the last month. He didn't intimidate her as much anymore. With Edmund, it was easy to relax. At least, now it was.

  She waved a hand. "Yeah, yeah. Don't you have some weird pre-dinner ritual you're supposed to be doing?"

  Edmund didn't know what she meant by that, but that didn't stop him from nodding and revealing, "I'm doing it right now. I like to do an act of charity every day. Luckily for us, I consider talking to you... How should I put this? Charitable."

  Hope's face turned scarlet as she averted her gaze away from the king. "Will you ever let me live that down?" she whined.

  "Is the sky pink?"

  "Actually, it is. Twice a day."

  "Oh, very funny," he replied while leaning against the counter before him. Their chuckles filled the room once more.

  "Uh-huh, you know, if you're going to bother me, you might as well make yourself useful."

  Edmund glanced up again to see a washcloth dangling before his face. He snickered, taking it and wiping down her workstation without thinking twice about it. It made Hope think of that old story about her parents—the one where her mother once convinced her father to do her chores because he was so infatuated with her. Of course, her parents were different from her and Edmund. Edmund was just a friend.

  ...Obviously...

  Why would Hope feel the need to clarify that in her head? She knew that! Of course, Edmund was her friend! Why would he be infatuated with her? He would never like her like that—

  Well, she certainly would never like him—

  Oh, never mind!

  "Well, isn't this a sight!" Peter Pevensie greeted. The High King sauntered toward the two with his lips upturned. "It seems that Lady Hope has convinced my brother to get off his lazy arse and make himself useful!"

  Edmund knew his brother was joking, but he rolled his eyes nonetheless. "What are you doing back here?"

  Peter shrugged. "Can't I stop by to visit our people and thank them for their hard work?"

  "You can, it's just uncanny that you—"

  "So, Lady Hope!" Peter cut in. Hope giggled at Edmund's annoyed reaction. She was slowly figuring out the whole sibling dynamic the Pevensies had, and after she got over the initial surprise (Hey, give her a break, Odette was the closest thing Hope had to a sister), she found them very entertaining. "It's been a week since your arrival in Narnia."

  Without hesitating, Hope corrected, "Actually, it's been six days." She tensed, faltering when she remembered she wasn't talking to Edmund anymore. She was talking to the damn High King! She bowed her head and apologized, "S-Sorry, Your Majesty."

  Edmund shook his head. "Don't hesitate to correct him, dove," he assured. "He needs it every once in a while."

  Peter raised his eyebrows at the odd nickname. He decided he wouldn't bring attention to it now, but he'd be sure to mention it to his sisters later.

  The Magnificent's smile widened, making Hope feel nervous again. She couldn't pinpoint why he intimidated her so much. She couldn't decide if it was because she was used to all kings being intimidating or if it was because she simply respected him as her superior.

  "Right. Six days, my mistake," Peter corrected. The fact that he was willing to accept he made a mistake stunned Hope. "Well, what do you think? Is Narnia everything you dreamed it would be? I've heard from quite a few servants, as well as the princess, that you were intrigued by Narnia before coming here, you know."

  Hope donned a bashful smile. "The rumors are true. I've always found Narnia fascinating. My father was the one who told me about Aslan in the first place, but I've never actually met him or anything like that. It's odd. I guess I've always felt a bit of a... connection to Narnia because of him," she rattled on. "Anyway, if you must know..." Her grin grew. She couldn't even try to downplay it. "Narnia's wonderful. I can't believe you all actually live here."

  Edmund thought it was endearing how grateful she was to be in Narnia. He couldn't count how many times he overheard Hope thank Odette for bringing her along — as if the princess could ever go a day of her life without her lady-in-waiting.

  "I think it's reasonable to think Narnia's as great as it is," Edmund admitted, nudging the girl beside him. Neither of them realized they were always touching in some manner. "But I think you and I both know the real reason you like it so much."

  Peter almost couldn't suppress his surprise. Was... Edmund flirting? Right in front of his big brother? No, did he even know he was flirting? Peter's thoughts wandered to what Lucy said the other day.

  His astonishment grew as Hope rolled her eyes and teased, "I hope you're not talking about yourself."

  Maybe Lucy was right. Maybe Edmund truly was clueless about his feelings toward Hope. The question was whether or not Hope was aware of it. From the looks of it, she didn't. So, maybe this wasn't as bad as Peter thought it was. Not that he doubted Hope the way Susan did! He thought Hope was lovely, and he knew he would enjoy her company once the Wysteria-Narnia union was complete. But, as a king and a protective brother, he was a little worried at first.

  Hope turned to the High King, her contagious smile remaining. "I mean no disrespect, Your Majesty, but is your brother always such a handful?" she asked.

  Peter dismissed his thoughts, chortling. "The real question is when isn't he a handful?" he retorted. A burst of melodic laughter left Hope—one that was so pleasing to Edmund's ears that he almost didn't process what they were talking about.

  Peter couldn't help but wonder if Hope felt the same way toward Edmund. It was hard to tell. Well, regardless, if they remained ignorant about whatever was going on between them, no treaties would be broken and the marriage would go as planned.

  "You know what? I like you, Lady Hope. Please, call me Peter," the Magnificent further insisted. Hey, if he convinced her they were friends, it would be easier to get to know her and uncover Hope's intentions. He noticed how Hope's eyes sparkled at the acceptance in his words.

  Suddenly, Edmund spoke again, "Oh, that's odd." Their gazes fell upon the Just King, puzzled. "I was worried you'd forgotten your name with how much your head grows every time someone calls you Your Majesty!"

  Hope scoffed jokingly. She thought it was odd how Edmund made her feel so comfortable. Normally, she would've never displayed this type of behavior in front of her superiors, especially the High King. She wondered what it was about Edmund that made her feel so safe.

  After listening to the brothers go back and forth for a while, with Hope chiming in every so often as she grew more comfortable with the High King's presence, she convinced them to leave the kitchen. It was far too busy for her to entertain them, and dinner was to be served soon, where afterward, the servants would eat their supper.

  Unfortunately, by the time it was Hope's turn to eat, her appetite vanished. She was beyond exhausted and, like every day, her feet ached from being on them since dawn. So, she slipped away to her room for the evening.

  Sharing a room with other servants was something Hope experienced her whole life. It wasn't as awful as it sounded, though Hope would be the first to confess that it could be a pain. The thing that always got on her nerves was when the children refused to sleep. They often chattered and whined about meaningless things until midnight sometimes.

  But, oddly enough, now that Hope was in Narnia and the younger servants remained in Wysteria, she missed them. They were always so lively and energetic, and while it was an annoyance sometimes, she loved them. She loved them so much that she managed to make their noise a vital part of her sleeping ritual.

  Usually, her general exhaustion lulled her to sleep, so she never stayed up longer than a half-hour before passing out. But tonight was different. She just couldn't seem to fall asleep. Without the noise of the children in her ears, the volume of her thoughts kept her at bay.

  Back and forth, back and forth, her thoughts wandered between trivial things. She thought about the weather, she thought about Odette, she thought about Aslan. And with every thought that crossed her mind, her mind led her back to King Edmund. A see-saw effect.

  When she thought about the weather, she recalled how Edmund once said his favorite kind of weather was when it was about to rain, the kind of days where the clouds morphed as one and the air was a bit cooler than usual. When she thought about Odette, she thought about how the princess had slowly become a mediator for their casual (and poorly-timed) chats about books they'd read and other things that interested them. When she thought about Aslan, she thought about his relationship with Edmund and his sacrifice. Everything she thought of made her think of Edmund. Why?

  But that wasn't the real problem. No, the real problem was that every time she started thinking about him again, she grinned so hard that it hurt her cheeks.

  The only reason (well, she thought it was the only reason) why she was thinking about him so much was because of what happened earlier: when she convinced him to take that rag from her and assist her in her duties. She couldn't shake it. The resemblance to the story about her parents was uncanny, wasn't it?

  Of course, Hope wasn't in love with Edmund, and he wasn't in love with her. They'd only known each other for a month, after all! But it did get her thinking, and she didn't like where her thoughts were steering her.

  It felt improper to think of Edmund like that — romantically. She was a servant, his inferior. On top of that, he was engaged to her best friend, a princess!

  But that didn't mean Hope couldn't think, right? It wasn't illegal to think about Edmund like that, right?

  He was handsome and muscular, sure, but he was a wonderful friend, the kind of person she least expected to get along with so well. He was insanely hilarious, too, and witty and charming. He always made her trip over her words, rendering her awestruck by how his mind worked just as quickly as hers. It was refreshing to meet someone as like-minded as her in that sense. He was also kind and willing to listen to her when she needed him to. He made her feel comfortable, safe. He made her feel like she was more than just a handmaid. He was also understanding and ridiculously intelligent and they read all the same books and—

  Hope shot upward in bed. 'I cannot be thinking like this.' She pulled her legs over her cot, running a hand through her tangled red locks. 'Oh, Aslan, what is getting into me?'

  She couldn't believe what she was thinking. She knew she didn't love Edmund, never mind like him like that. But she couldn't stop thinking about the idea of it all. Because although Hope didn't like him in that way, she did like the way he made her feel. Was that such a crime? She didn't think it was, so why did she feel like she just committed treason?

  She glanced back at the dim room. The low snores and rhythmic breaths of her roommates were enough of an indicator that they were all asleep. She was the only one who remained. She didn't know what time it was, but she didn't care. She needed to go on a walk and clear her thoughts, even if her feet still ached from another long day. Grabbing a thin coat, she pulled it around her body and slipped on her shoes. Nimble as a mouse, she slipped out of the room without waking anyone up.

  Hope didn't have a destination in mind. All she wished was to walk around the hallways aimlessly until she was tired enough to fall asleep on the spot. The moonlight slipped through the large windows, shining against the floor to guide Hope. Cair Paravel was a lot larger than Wysteria's castle, but she eventually figured out the general layout of the building after the first few days. She was quite overwhelmed at first, but then she started to think of it as one enormous puzzle and suddenly, she was a human compass.

  Back home, Hope would've sat before the statue of her father until she felt better. In this situation, Hope would've gotten on her knees and prayed to Aslan for clarity, but she just couldn't stop thinking about Edmu—him to try.

  Did she make one too many jokes about being cursed? Did she manifest her own bad luck? Perhaps Edmund was a bad luck charm for her?

  ...Oh, Aslan, why didn't Hope care if that was true?

  The only logical thing she could think of was to ignore whatever was blossoming in her. Maybe she just wasn't used to having male friends her age. Maybe she just read one too many romance novels!

  Okay, maybe that didn't make as much sense as Hope was hoping, but she was feeling a little desperate here. These kinds of thoughts, romantic ones, were new to her. She had virtually no experience in that area of life and, sure, she thought about what her future husband would be like, but—Hey! Hope wasn't suggesting that Edmund was her future husband! No, no, it was just a... a comparison!

  "This is nothing," she muttered to herself. "You're thinking about it too much."

  And she was. She was most definitely thinking about this too much. But it wasn't like she could control it! There was no lever or pulley in her brain she could reach that would turn off her Edmund-related thoughts. She couldn't stop thinking about him romantically.

  No. She did not have feelings for Edmund. She knew that. Even if she did, which she didn't, she would have to ignore them. He was her friend, and more importantly, he was engaged to her best friend because they were trying to save Wysteria.

  She was sure all people thought about what it would be like to date their friends of the opposite sex from time to time. This was completely normal. This was fine. This was definitely fine.

  Maybe.

  Hope suddenly inhaled sharply when she spotted someone in the near-distance, a small candelabra in their grasp. The fire on top of the candle illuminated his face, the light bouncing off of his blue eyes and reflecting against his blond hair. Oh, Aslan, it was the High King. Peter. Edmund's freaking brother.

  She turned on her heel to run away before being struck with confrontation, but then Peter called out, "Hope?"

  She swore under her breath, knowing that her bright red hair was a dead giveaway of her identity. She slowly turned back around and flashed him a nervous smile. "Your Majesty?" she returned. "Is that you?"

  He approached her, his long legs practically stretched from one end of the hallway to the other. His head was somewhat tilted, his voice hushed as he wondered, "Hope? What are you doing awake at this hour?"

  She awkwardly chuckled, glancing down at the invisible watch on her wrist. "Is it that late already?" she replied. "I was hoping to... um, go for a walk, but I'm here... talking to you. Obviously." She cringed. Maybe she could've lied better if she wasn't in distress. Not that the thought of Edmund made her distressed! Oh, geez, here we go again.

  Thankfully, Peter didn't seem to notice. That, or he didn't care. He even laughed at her reaction. "Well spotted," he teased. "I'll admit, I was hoping no one would catch me sneaking around, but you see, I was hungry."

  "Hungry?" she echoed, bewildered. "But... hasn't it only been a few hours since dinner?"

  "Indeed," confirmed Peter, "but the most important meal of the day is calling my name. I can't remember a time where I didn't thoroughly enjoy a midnight snack."

  Hope was slowly starting to realize that Peter, despite being the Magnificent High King, was rather... childish, especially for someone of his status. Sure, he was stern and mature when necessary, but he was so much more carefree than Hope expected from a king. He was nothing like King David. She didn't mind though. Honestly, she liked it. Peter was the kind of king that Hope thought only existed in fairytales.

  "Would you care to join me?" added Peter.

  Hope's eyes widened. "M-Me? Oh, I wouldn't want to impose—"

  Of course, the universe was plotting against her. Her stomach loudly growling interrupted her. Her face reddened.

  "You were saying?" Peter taunted lightheartedly.

  Rubbing the back of her head, Hope admitted, "I skipped dinner tonight. I wasn't hungry at the time..."

  "Then, I insist you join me," Peter declared. "Princess Odette always speaks so highly of you, but I've yet to enjoy your company."

  Hope had never heard of such a friendly king before, but what was the point in arguing? She was starving and refused to say the word, "No." Besides, he was her superior and she didn't want to disrespect him after he'd been so kind to her. What did she have to lose? This was a stellar opportunity to distract herself from her... questionable thoughts about him.

  Her lips curled into a smile as he offered his arm. For the remainder of the evening, Hope and Peter's hushed chatter and quiet laughs could be heard in the background of the Narnians' dreams.