And then they were gone, and it seemed as though they hadn’t been there at all. The large crowd fell silent, awed by the display of magic; the sudden disappearance of their four royalties into thin air. Caspian felt a brief surge of anger towards to man who had loudly questioned the safety of the portal—the man who had prompted the High King to decide it was time to go. But then he realised they were planning to go already, and his anger dissolved. They were always going to leave.

Aslan ended the gathering. Caspian heard his rich, deep, rumbling voice, but he couldn’t quite grasp the words he spoke. He was too lost in his memories; so much had happened in the last few weeks… and so much of it involved the Kings and Queens.

Caspian remembered how he had first met them in the woods at the break of dawn; how he had fought with the High King and managed to disarm him.

He remembered his surprise and disappointment when he realised that the Kings and Queens weren’t what he had expected, and the awe and admiration he had felt when they turned out to be so much more than he could ever have hoped.

He remembered Peter’s proud stance and Lucy’s disarming smile. He recalled Edmunds wise words, but most of all he remembered Susan’s gentle touch… her clear ringing laugh, her sparkling eyes… the expression on her face alternating between playful and serious faster than he could follow.

Susan. His attraction to her was now no longer a secret. All of Narnia had seen it; their first kiss which was also doomed to be their last. She was gone now, and she had left him nothing. Nothing to remember her by. Nothing but sweet memories.

All that remained was her taste, lingering on his lips. Her faint floral perfume that hung around him. The echo of her whispers in his head. And the faint inerasable footprint on his heart.