White Moves First, Part 4 ~ Edmund Pevensie
Summary: Despite the distance between their two lands, Y/N, princess of Archenland, is close friends with King Edmund the Just. But when push comes to shove, will friendship turn to more?
Edmund paced around the drawing room, his anxious gaze occasionally staring at the chessboard.
He rushed here as quickly as he possibly could after the meeting, unsure of how to tell her about everything and yet certain that she needed to know as soon as possible.
Too antsy to wait, he checked everywhere he could think: the royal dining room, the gardens, the library. He even went to her bedchamber and mustered up enough courage to knock. The staunch lady’s maid that answered informed him the princess hadn’t been back since she woke up that morning.
So he returned to the drawing room, fretting that Y/N would learn the news from her father, or her brothers, or, Aslan forbid, Rabadash himself.
His anxiety snowballed, every second bringing a new terrifying possibility as to how Y/N would react to his news. Would she hate Edmund for being there when her father betrothed her to a monster? Would her face go red as she stomped her foot and yelled? Would she cry, wailing about how it was a mistake? He hoped she wouldn’t cry; he never knew what to do when his sisters cried, and their tears stemmed from sentiment more than trial.
Edmund shook his head, standing in front of the window to look out at the mountains. What was he thinking? Y/N was a lady of grace and charm. She would absolutely be angry and sad, but she would never lose control. She would face the situation head on, doing her best to never let her misery show.
Somehow, that seemed worse.
A soft thud sounded behind him. Edmund spun to see Y/N with her back to the door she’d just slipped through. Finally, she was here. He opened his mouth, preparing to ask her to sit, when he spotted the look on her face, a look that spoke of such deep anguish, his heart ached.
“You know,” he said softly, the words betraying nothing of the trembling of his soul. “Who told you?”
“I listened in on the meeting.”
A rush of affection shot through Edmund. Of course she listened in. Of course she’d caught wind of the meeting with enough time to get into place before it could even start. It was just the kind of stubborn, clever thing she would do.
He chided himself. Now was not the time.
Putting his back to her, he faced the fireplace, running his hand through his hair. “We can’t allow this, we have to come up with an alternative.”
“There is no alternative.” Y/N’s shockingly steady voice made Edmund hesitate. “The prince is dead set on this engagement.”
“Maybe if I talk to Rabadash–”
Sure he’d heard her wrong, Edmund turned to look at her. “You did what?”
Y/N dropped into the armchair, resting her forehead on a fist. “After the meeting, I went to confront Rabadash.”
“You did what?!” Edmund nearly tripped over the other armchair in his haste to reach Y/N. “Do you have any idea–”
A look of such distress crossed her face, Edmund lost his words.
