"Aslan's country," Celine answered, voice clear. "Narnia is but a shadow of that world. But one cannot find this holy land by foot or by ship. You must be chosen to go..."

That was what she remembered from her readings. It was all very vague, and part of it she wasn't paying attention to. She mentally vowed, if they all survived this, that she would better memorize those histories, and so would any children she bore; they were more important now than ever before.

Caspian clasped her hand, a sensation that brought warmth not unlike their shared moment in the garden. She gazed down on him to see him so sad and crestfallen, perhaps believing he had failed her. It hurt her heart to see him in such a state, and she longed to caress away those worry lines from his kind face. She clasped his hand tighter, and held it with both her own, bringing it up higher.

"You judge yourself poorly, my old friend," she said softly, smile warm. "You've already done so much for me, t'would be selfish of me to ask for more. I have all my faith in you, and in the Great Lion; There isn't a soul I trust more than you."

She turned her head. "Lysander, you have my thanks," she continued. "I am sure his lordship would be kind enough to allow you some rest; I'm sure your trip was a grueling one."