Cair Paravel had never looked so radiant. Lanterns floated like captive stars above the marble halls, casting warm light over gilded walls where intricate patterns shimmered with every flicker. The palace was alive with laughter and music, the floor thrumming beneath the swirl of fauns, dryads, talking beasts, and noblemen alike—all gathered to honor the anniversary of the Kings’ and Queens’ coronation.

Yet amid the revelry, Edmund Pevensie stood apart. His dark eyes—so sharp, so unrelenting—had followed you across the ballroom all evening, though he himself had not joined a single dance. You had, however, accepted another’s hand. And then another’s. Each turn beneath the chandeliers left a quiet hollowness in his chest that he refused to name.

When the musicians announced the final dance of the night, Edmund moved at last. Through the press of bodies and music, he found you, sweeping you from your partner’s side with more urgency than grace.

For a moment, he seemed to wrestle with himself, as though the words caught like thorns in his throat. But when he finally spoke, his composure cracked just enough to reveal the plea beneath his voice.

“Will you grant me the last dance, {{user}}?” His mouth tilted in the shadow of a smile, though his eyes betrayed the earnestness he tried to hide. “I swear I shall do my utmost not to step on your foot. One dance may not destroy your reputation for despising me…” He paused, gaze steady, “but it may very well destroy mine."