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WALKING IN THE WIND
xvii. GLASS TEARS

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  IT WASN'T VERY LADYLIKE of her, but Odette was seconds away from tearing Cair Paravel apart with her bare hands.

  The morning of her 18th birthday — by the way, that's today — was supposed to be perfect. She would wake up to the birds harmonizing near her window, a sound just loud enough to mask the unending knocking on her door, where Hope would be waiting on the other side. She would grumble something about how, even on her birthday, Odette found a way to sleep in, and accompanying her annoyed tone would be a smile. Yes, for the last three years or so, this was how the princess always started her day, but she found that things never felt right when Hope wasn't the first person she saw in the morning. Call her crazy, call her dramatic, but she swore this was the truth.

  Some people didn't understand how much Odette needed Hope. Sure, she was a mere handmaid, but to the princess, she was so much more than that. Hope was everything she could ever need—a friend, a shoulder to cry on, a voice of reason, a supporter, a guiding light. In every perceivable way, she was a mess without Hope.

  So when she awakened this morning and Hope was nowhere to be found, she knew today was going to be a day filled with misfortune.

  Between breaking a new record for how late she could sleep in, having to be woken up by Susan and Lucy, who were equally as surprised to see the future queen still in bed at 10:00 AM, and rushing to get dressed before her parents yelled at her (which they did anyway), not to mention breaking a few vases and glassware at "breakfast" and tripping over her own two feet numerous times, Odette was convinced the world was tipped upside down. And yet, all she could think was: Where is Hope?

  Hope had been by her side every morning since she became Odette's lady-in-waiting. Maybe they didn't spend every hour of every day together, but they had a silent agreement that their mornings were always spent together. Well, that was what Odette thought.

  Odette remembered a servant notifying her that Edmund required Hope's assistance for something yesterday afternoon. She was so busy at the time that she didn't bother asking what it was, which she was promptly regretting. She assumed it was something minor, but an entire night had passed and they had yet to return.

  Surely if they intended to travel outside of Cair Paravel, never mind partake in an overnight affair, Hope would've informed her, right? What if something happened to one or both of them? The disappearance of her fiancé was one thing (and probably one that should've been the focus of her worries), but the disappearance of her best friend was another, far worse thing. At least, it was in her opinion.

  As much as it pained her to think it, Odette knew that if something were to have happened to them, the Narnians would prioritize their king in their search. That was how these things worked. Hope didn't mean anything to anyone other than Odette, which you'd think was enough of a reason to raise havoc, but it wasn't.

  She was worried.

  Of course, Hope never knew of Odette's attachment. Normally, when they were separated and later reunited, the princess seemed fine. The longest they'd been apart was a few days when Odette first traveled to Narnia, and unbeknownst to the handmaid, she was a wreck every day they were apart. That was why Hope was suddenly forced to travel to Narnia the second time around (but Odette just brushed it off by saying it was to help her prepare for the wedding).

  See, Odette always tried to bottle up these emotions, just as her parents trained her to, but perhaps because it was her birthday and she had so much on her plate, she just couldn't control herself as she usually could.

  So, instead, she was taking out her hypersensitivity on everyone else.

  Yes, her system was flawed, but Odette never claimed to be rational anyway. She just liked pretending she was.

  She wasn't trying to be an irritating princess. She forced her smiles and politely thanked everyone for the endless stream of birthday wishes, but, every so often, she'd accidentally snap at someone or inadvertently make a mean face or get caught mumbling to herself (which Odette's mother hated).

  Everyone was trying to calm Odette down, but they were troubled, too. The servants feared what might've happened to Hope, but they were more concerned about their king. The Pevensies originally didn't think twice about Edmund's absence, but when noon rolled around and they were still missing, they began to worry. Not to mention, he was with Hope, of all people.

  So now, the Princess of Wysteria and the Kings and Queens of Narnia and the Narnians and the Wysterians and the entirety of the servant population were in a state of panic.

  Seriously, you'd think someone must've died if you were looking in from the outside.

  As a matter of fact, that was exactly what Hope thought when she and Edmund eventually returned to Cair Paravel around a quarter after one in the afternoon. She supposed that — judging their rugged appearances — maybe they were the ghosts of whoever died that morning. Funnily enough, Edmund said the same thing just before she could make the joke herself.

  If you must know, they were trying not to talk nor think about what happened last night. It was almost too much to recall, even after a whole night passed, that something could be so right, yet so wrong at the same time. It was so perfect, yet terrible at the same time.

  Instead, they tried to enjoy the last private moments they had together before they returned to reality, which was harsh and spared no one, especially not a pair of traitors.

  Phillip trotted toward the gates of Cair Paravel calmly, his head hanging low with the weight of secrets that didn't belong to him. No, the horse hadn't witnessed everything, but he'd overheard enough to put the pieces together. But his loyalty belonged to the king, his closest companion. He wouldn't tell a soul of what happened that night, and he, like Edmund and Hope, would take it to his grave.

  When King Edmund and his trusty steed (and Hope—not like anyone cares as much) were spotted in the near distance by an eagle, Cair Paravel exploded with chaos. Shouts boomed from every corner. Narnians flooded the north gates, each being drenched with relief that their king was okay.

  Edmund dismounted Phillip before turning to assist his wife—Erm, friend, but he was quickly distracted by his siblings, royal advisors, and other Narnians rushing forward to greet him. He was tugged forward, almost like he was pulled into a tsunami, where the water that swallowed him whole was made from the tears of his people. Tears of joy, tears of relief.

  Hope couldn't hide her shock when she saw all of the Narnians waiting for Edmund. She wondered what it was like to be loved by so many, all at once. Was it overwhelming? Daunting? Was it relieving and freeing, maybe? Was this what a king's relationship with his people was supposed to look like?

  She stared at the crowd of Narnians as she descended from Phillip's back, suddenly feeling so much smaller in the shadows of the Narnians. Guilt weighed down on her. All she could think about was what their stupid mistake could cost him. Today, the Narnians loved Edmund, but tomorrow, they could despise him for something that wasn't even his fault. Like a punch in the stomach, Hope flinched at the thought.

  She turned to Phillip, taking hold of his lead, and with a sigh, she asked, "Any last words of advice?"

  The horse made a quiet neighing sound that sounded more like a bittersweet laugh. They hadn't spoken much, not even on their trip, but Phillip decided he didn't mind the girl who was always in the wrong place at the right time.

  "Forgive me, but if I did, I would save it for the King," Phillip merely said. "Aslan knows he's far more stubborn than you seem to be, Lady Hope."

  She stifled a quiet laugh. Weirdly, that was the best thing he could say to her. "Trust your gut. You already know what you must do," seemed to be the underlying message in his words, and it provided her with a fraction of relief.

  That fraction of relief vanished as quickly as it came, like the quiet before the storm.

  In the eye of the hurricane, shoving her way through the Narnians and Wysterians as gracefully as she could, there was Odette, who seemed to be the real storm all along.

  Hope watched with an almost amused glint in her eyes, the corners of her lips pulling upward just a centimeter. The short princess stood out like a sore thumb. Everyone, Hope included, assumed she was trying to get to her fiancé, but when the blonde sped past him and lunged for her best friend, surprise became the crowd.

  Odette's arms snaked around the handmaid, securing her in place as she squeezed tightly. She didn't care that her dress was becoming dirty from the direct contact, nor did she care that she might've been suffocating her best friend. All she cared about was Hope.

  Hope would've returned the hug, but she couldn't move without the princess stiffening her grip. And just when the former felt like she was going to break in half, Odette pulled away and shouted, "ARE YOU OUT OF YOUR MIND?!"

  A sharp breath pricked her lungs as Hope coughed, "P-Pardon?"

  "I'VE BEEN WORRIED SICK ABOUT YOU!" Odette roared. "WHERE HAVE YOU BEEN? I THOUGHT SOMETHING HORRIBLE HAPPENED TO YOU!"

  "I—"

  "I HAD HALF THE MIND TO GO OUT AND FIND YOU MYSELF! DO YOU KNOW THE KIND OF STRESS I'VE ENDURED TODAY BECAUSE I THOUGHT YOU WERE DEAD? OR WORSE?!"

  She eyed the princess, taking in her wild appearance. Odette's hands were sewn to Hope's shoulders, shaking her violently, and when they weren't on her shoulders, they were on Hope's face, thumbing away the grime. Her eyes were wide and subtly rimmed red, evidence of a few tears shed in private. They were glass tears — tears that you'd never notice unless you were really looking, the ones you shed before insisting, "I'm fine."

  "I didn't realize there was a fate worse than death," Hope shyly admitted. She was rather uncomfortable with how quiet everyone had gotten. Everyone listened, surprised at how much rage the princess had been withholding for so long. "But... I suppose standing here while you yell at me might be it."

  Odette faltered, her hardened expression melting away. Her jaw unclenched itself, shoulders dropping. Then, she sniffled and allowed a small laugh to escape her. "Oh, what am I going to do with you?" she mumbled before reaching out for another hug. Hope just sighed, easing into her touch.

  It was then when Hope realized that she did, in fact, know what the love of an entire country felt like, and it was all in the embrace of her best friend.

  "Happy birthday, my princess."

  Edmund couldn't help but watch with a smile on his face, even after his fiancée just yelled at her best friend in front of everyone, even when a few servants began to whisper about how odd it was that Odette was more concerned about her handmaid than her future husband. Maybe it was because he knew better than the lot of them that this was no ordinary love. The love of a sister and her sister was something that just couldn't be explained to someone who didn't know half the story.

  When Odette pulled away from the hug, she wasn't outwardly bothered by all of the eyes on her. She was used to this — this life. That was why she was perfect for Edmund or any king for that matter. At the end of the day, no matter what, even in the midst of the storm, she would hold her head high and smile.

  Odette intertwined her fingers with Hope's, tugging her forward as if nothing happened. "Come along, Hope!" ordered the princess. "We need you to get cleaned up and sent to Nurse Musa! Oh, you must hear about the horrors that happened today while you were gone! I want to hear all about whatever you and Edmund were up to later, but I have to tell you everything first. You won't believe...!"

  Hope just laughed, listening as her best friend went on to tell her about her day of misfortune. One by one, the Narnians and Wysterians went back to their duties, gossiping about what could've happened in the evening King Edmund and Lady Hope were missing.

  Hope glanced back at the crowd, still being tugged along by her best friend. Her gaze locked with Edmund's as he listened to— well, he was pretending to listen to Susan and Peter's lectures in his ear. The raven-haired king sent her a subtle nod, one that she could only interpret as a, "We're going to be okay."

  For the first time in hours, Hope agreed.

  And, between you and me, they will be okay. Well, in the end, at least.

  But their story was only just beginning.