Chapter 3-Finally

"It was an immature, foolish, dangerous prank that nearly got me killed!"

"Aravis," begged Cor, "Corin didn't know you couldn't swim!"

"Then he shouldn't have pushed me into the river unless he knew for sure! Furthermore-"

"Aravis, will you marry me?"

"Yes, yes, of course," she said, irritated. "But furthermore-" suddenly she froze and spun around. "What did you just say?"

Cor flushed and began wringing his hands nervously. "Look, Aravis," he said, flustered. "I know it's kind of sudden, but I've been trying to work up the courage all week, and I was going to ask you today but then Corin pushed you into the river and then I had to save you and…and…never mind," he finished miserably, embarrassment rolling off him in waves. "I'll just…go."

Aravis reached out and stopped him. "No, Cor, wait," she said swiftly. "Just…give me a second to collect my wits. You surprised me, that's all."

Cor paused, hope sparking in his eyes. Aravis took a deep breath. "If you're asking solely as Prince Cor of Archenland…I'm afraid I shall have to decline." At Cor's crushed expression, she reached out quickly and gave a small smile, placing her hands on his shoulders. "You'll always be Shasta to me," she explained in a soft whisper. She had meant to make him smile, but the actual effect was quite the opposite. Cor's face took on a closed, guarded expression, but not before Aravis saw the flash of pain in his eyes. "…Cor?" she said hesitantly. "What's wrong?"

Cor pulled away from her, moving to the opposite side of his balcony. "Nothing, Lady Aravis," he said politely, and Aravis twitched slightly at the title.

Cor had never, ever, in all her time in Archenland, called her by anything other than her name, and she hated the sudden formality. "It's something," she insisted. "What is it?"

Cor spoke again, still in that blasted detached tone. "I completely understand," he said formally. "I realize that someone such as yourself, of high birth, who has been properly raised, would wish to marry someone more like yourself, and not a mere slave boy who has to all intents and purposes been adopted into royalty. That decision is certainly your right, and completely understandable."

Aravis couldn't believe what she was hearing. As if that was what she'd meant! "No, Cor," she gasped, appalled at the horrific misunderstanding. She grabbed his arm. "That's not what I meant at all! I only meant that, no matter what name you go by, you'll always be-"

"Just a peasant boy who got lucky," said Cor tersely. "Yes, I remember the conversation."

Aravis withdrew her hand as if burned, wincing at the memory. It had been the worst fight they had ever had. They hadn't spoken to one another for a week, until Corin became fed up with them and stolen every stitch of clothing from their rooms while they were bathing, leaving them nothing but the most outrageous, flambouyant dresses (Cor's had been a garish pink number with a bright green laced collar at least two feet tall and hoops so wide Aravis couldn't believe he had fit down the hallway, let alone through the door) that he could find in the castles at both Anvard and Cair Paravel. (Queen Lucy had helped him. The young Queen could have a deliciously evil sense of humor at times.) He had informed them that they would receive their clothes back when they had sorted out their differences.

Aravis figured she'd better get this cleared up quickly, before Corin decided to "help" them again.

"That's not what I was going to say, and you know it!" she hissed.

"Then what, pray tell, were you going to say, Tarkheena?" Cor snapped back. Aravis was actually glad to hear him angry at her; anything but that awful proper voice.

"I was going to say that…" she blushed, embarrassed with herself for doing so but unable to stop the pink tinge from creeping into her cheeks. "I was going to say that you'll always be Shasta, and that's better than Cor. Shasta's the one who treated me right, no matter how horrible I was to him. Shasta's the one who ran all that way to find King Lune and save Anvard. And…I know I say it a lot, but it's still true…Shasta charged a lion to save me, and even though I was never in any real danger, you didn't know that and neither did I."

Cor was very still, a strange look in his eyes. It seemed he was starting to hope, but was desperately afraid to.

Aravis, meanwhile, was trying to force herself to finish her little speech, because there was something she still had to say. It was just not something she had ever imagined she would say.

"I didn't fall in love with the Crown Prince of Archenland," she whispered, stepping to Shasta's side and taking his hand hesitantly. "I fell in love with a fisherman's son, a slave boy named Shasta." Inwardly, she winced at how…disgustingly romantic she sounded, but she pressed onwards. "And if he asked me to marry him, I would-" She cut herself off with a gasp of shock as Cor swept her into a loving hug that was tight but not painfully so. He kissed her temple gently, and she gave a little shiver of pleasure despite herself.

Cor stepped back, placing his hands on her shoulders. "You'll have to marry both of us," he warned her in a mock-serious voice.

Aravis smirked. "Please tell me you're referring to Shasta and Cor, not Cor and Corin."

Cor grinned. "Of course," he said. "I would never ask you to marry Corin. Even I'm not that cruel."

"Hey!"

Cor and Aravis looked up in shock, to see Cor's twin leaning out from behind one of the stone eagles that flanked Cor's balcony. Until he spoke, the carved wings had hidden him from view.

"You!" Cor said furiously. "How long have you been standing there?"

Corin gave a cheeky grin. He may have been a man by most standards, but at times he could be less mature than he had been at the age of twelve. "Long enough," he said casually. "Say, brother, how long does it take you to kiss a girl, anyway?"

Aravis narrowed her eyes. "Cor?" she asked in a pleasant tone.

"Yes, Aravis?" Cor replied, matching her innocent voice.

"Would you object if I murdered your brother?"

Cor pretended to think about it. "No," he decided.

Corin took one look at the expression on Aravis' face, and decided to run for it.

Three hours later, he peered out the peephole in one of the only secret passageways Cor didn't know about. It had a decent view of the stable yard where Cor and Aravis had finally given up hunting for him. He watched as Cor gently brushed a strand of Aravis' dark hair out of her face (her braid had come undone somewhere between the baguette swordfight in the kitchen and the high-speed pursuit through the wine cellars), lean in, and kiss her.

Corin sighed, half-proud and half-exasperated.

Finally, he thought.