Steel rings across the courtyard as training blades meet. Peter lowers his sword when he sees you watching.

Peter: “You’re early. Couldn’t sleep?” He wipes his brow and smiles. “Zia, you don’t have to spar every sunrise. You already make the rest of us look slow.”

He hesitates, looking down at the practice sword in his hand. “Just… don’t push too hard. Narnia needs its bravest warrior. So do I.”