This story begins during Prince Caspian, continues through the three Narnian years Edmund is in his own world, and follows on into the events of Dawn Treader. The title refers to the Winston Churchill quote about Russia: "A riddle, wrapped in a mystery, inside an enigma." Any character(s) you recognise belong to C. S. Lewis.

When you first meet Ed, the first thing you notice is his reticence. This diffidence helps keep so much of his character, his true self, hidden from view; you're never certain how much of what you see is the real Ed, and how much is shaped by circumstance. How much of the man you see before you is a mirage, built from being returned to Narnia after centuries away? Or your needing to deal with what might – if you aren't all very careful – become a civil war. Or (because to you it's obvious, even at the beginning, because of Peter's obnoxious behaviour) how he's forever stuck in Peter's shadow?

The two of you clash a little to start, and in consequence it takes longer to get on good terms than you might like. But after he helps you avoid catastrophe by the barest whisker at Aslan's How you revise your opinion of him. You bond, to an extent, that evening while the two of you get drunker on good Narnian wine than might be wise. Each learns much about the other that night, because you aren't the only one trying to repress things through, or drown feelings in, alcohol. Including, but not limited to, the truth about what happened when the Witch's enchanted stranglehold on Narnia broke.

If, during Ed's telling of this truth, you realise that although he helped break the enchantment on Narnia the Witch broke Ed in return and, because of it, a part of him will never heal – well, even you know better than to mention it. And even though the two of you become much better acquainted with each other, both in body and spirit, that night you get nowhere near the time you'd have liked in which to get to know him.

The pull between you, and even at this stage you're certain it's there, means you'd keep him with you if you only had the choice, but since your escape from your uncle's castle you've learnt to accept choice is a rare luxury to kings and you're no exception to the rule. You and Ed have formed a connection on a deeper level; even with the limited time you've had together, it's so obvious you can't but acknowledge its existence, but you suspect you must suppress it if you can or else it'll break you.

He disappears back into history soon after, at Aslan's command, and you realise it's possible you'll never get an answer to satisfy you on the enigma that is the Just King. Perhaps, to you, he's destined to stay a riddle, wrapped in a mystery, for ever.

Years pass. Little things, here and there, remind you how much you miss the closest you've ever had to a family. You do your best not to dwell on them, with varying and often limited success, because remembering hurts and although you want it to be different (and by "different" you mean, when you let yourself be honest, you want the chance to see, and touch, Ed again) you force yourself to admit the odds of seeing any of them again are minuscule. You throw yourself into the preparations for your sea voyage, fulfilling the promise you made on your Coronation Day to find your father's old friends. And you try to forget.

Except, you find, forgetting is rather more difficult than you'd expect. Nothing you say or do can stop you from drowning in memories of that night, of what you did to Ed, and he did to you; you wake from vivid dreams in the middle of the night shaking with want. Although you choose not to investigate the thought, you suspect this might be the real reason you resist calls for you to find Narnia a Queen. The implications it has for how you feel about Ed frighten you a little. Your instinctive reaction, that you care more about Ed than you worry about any complications, worries you even more; you work to put the idea, and Ed, out of your mind for your own sanity.

Work continues apace on preparing for your sea voyage, and you embark aboard the Dawn Treader almost three years to the day since you last had sight of Ed. For about the first thirty days, nothing much happens. You're lulled into something of a false sense of security; maybe, you think, fulfilling this promise won't be as bad as you sometimes fear.

Then, just when you think you might have succeeded in your aim to put Ed out of your mind (because you can go through periods of time when you forget that anyone named Ed Pevensie ever existed in Narnia), the fates throw a spanner in the works. Your darkest dreams are answered and Ed reappears out of nowhere (with Lucy, and a kinsman of theirs – Eustace – who you dislike on sight).

Ed catches your attention after all the excitement is over and everybody is back on board ship, by the simple act of calling your name; for a moment, you don't react because your mind can't quite process the reality of this. And, when you do, you walk towards him with eyes for no-one else even though most of your crew stands there watching you doing it. But nobody appears to think anything of it when you throw a blanket around Ed's shoulders and follow up by drawing him into a half-hug and, even if they did, you'd pay them no heed. From the moment you set eyes on him, it's as if nobody else exists on that ship for you; the only thing you want to do is touch him again.

It's been such a long time since you last had the chance to, and you'd been so sure you'd never see him again. The smile you give him is so wide it hurts your mouth, but you can't stop grinning. When his arm slides up your back, the contact burns but feels so good you shiver.

At last, at last; you wouldn't understand how alone I've felt here without you.

Less than a month ago, you would have given just about anything for this moment; you don't give a damn if anybody, other than Ed, notices or cares what's happening. You're just happy he's here.

Adjusting to being in the same reality as Ed again takes such little time it surprises you. It's a matter of days between his return and the Dawn Treader making landfall in the Lone Islands, but the two of you become almost inseparable during that time and by the time Pug and his cronies enter the picture you're almost back to where you'd been before. The first clues that whatever exists between you and Ed (you have a good idea what to call it, but flinch from doing so; you cannot yet admit its true nature even to yourself) goes far deeper than is wise show during this time, too.

You suspect much of your impuissant rage toward the Calormen slavers has less to do with their general brutish and inhumane behaviour and more about whom their actions defile. You've never been good at concealing any of your emotions, let alone the stronger ones, and you think that it's almost inevitable everything you're thinking and feeling is showing on your face.