Nearnia — Princess Cas Begins by Maeryn Lamonte He stood, surrounded by furs, breathing heavily and tasting moth balls on the stuffy air. As before, the coats reminded him of his mother, so many miles away, and he held one close against his cheek, enjoying the cool softness for a while as his racing pulse settled back to normal. He listened for a moment, but there were no sounds from the other side of the wardrobe. The door gave with a quiet click when he pushed on it, allowing him to slip out unnoticed. All sorts of strange thoughts flew around like so many songbirds in the garden of his mind, and he ran off to find his brothers before one of them jumped up and frightened him again.

Lucas didn't sleep well that night, his mind too filled with new and disturbing thoughts. The rain continued to rattle against the windows as he lay wide eyed through the cold, quiet hours of the morning. He was up as dawn's first light began to broach the horizon, climbing into his clothes and sneaking out of the room he shared with one of his brothers.

He felt his way down dark corridors until he reached the room with the wardrobe. The familiar feel of the furs told him he was in the right place, and the length of cord took him the rest of the way. The small garden glowed dimly as the morning sun's first rays gently suffused everything. The professor and Mrs Macready were already there, and Lucas watched, fascinated, from the shadowy entrance as the latter laced the former into a stiff whalebone girdle.

He stayed hidden, entranced by the revelation of the unknown, as Mrs Macready completed dressing her employer, finishing off with a wig and a hat, and just a touch of makeup.

With a final sniff of disapproval, she stepped away and started walking briskly back towards the doorway where Lucas was hiding. At the last moment, the young boy made a dash for the corner on the opposite side of the garden, keeping as low as he could and hunkering down out of site.

Mrs Macready stopped at the doorway and half turned towards him.

“As if it's not bad enough that you're here at all. You should be ashamed, lurking in the shadows and watching a lady dress.”

Lucas cringed, half expecting to be towed away by his ear, but Mrs Macready's footsteps continued again, up the corridor to the secret entrance and back into the house.

When all was silent, and his racing heart and breathing had returned to normal, Lucas dared to stand up and walk round to where the professor was sitting, reading a book. The old man looked up as the boy approached and offered him a welcoming smile.

“Well aren't you up early this morning?”

Lucas was reluctant to approach, still smarting from Mrs Macready's scolding. Instead he hung back at the corner of the covered walkway, swinging on the pillar and staring at the ground.

“Whatever's the matter Lucas?” The professor softened his voice until it sounded almost like a lady's. It was as friendly and welcoming as his smile, and carried not the slightest trace of anger.

“I'm sorry, I didn't mean to peep. It's just that you said to come early, and when I arrived, you were still getting dressed, so I waited for you to finish. I didn't think I was doing anything wrong.” The words came out in a rush, tumbling over each other and growing in misery as the confession progressed.

“My dear child.” The professor put down his book and walked over — a little stiffly it must be said, but that was probably more to do with the corset than anything else. He settled down into a crouch and drew the young boy into a gentle embrace. “It's alright, I'm not angry or upset. I know you wouldn't do such a thing on purpose, and you're right, I did tell you to come early. I just never expected you to be up at this hour.

“Come on Lucas, dry your eyes. There's nothing to cry about. Come and sit with me and talk for a while. You know, I'm getting decidedly tired of all this rain. I would rather be in the garden tending to my flowers, but good company is a good substitute, and so much more agreeable than reading. Do you read?”

And so Lucas was drawn into the magical world of Mrs Tumnus for another morning. They spoke of the books they had read and enjoyed, Lucas surprising his peculiar hostess with the number and variety he already knew. After a while, Mrs Macready appeared with refreshments for them both, and a particularly disagreeable look for Lucas, which chased him into the shame-filled recesses of his mind once more.

Mrs Tumnus drew him out of his shell again by suggesting a game, and they passed the rest of the morning playing ludo and draughts. As time wore on, Lucas became progressively more agitated. The professor was wise enough to realise that it would be best if to wait for the boy to speak rather than press the matter. In any case, he didn't have long to wait. They were packing up the games when he finally found the courage to say what was on his mind.

“Mrs Tumnus?”

“Yes Lucas.”

“I was wondering...”

The professor waited. He had an idea what this was about, but he didn't want to invent troubles for the day, so he waited and hoped he was wrong.

“I was wondering of you had any clothes I could wear. You know, little girls clothes?”

The professor closed his eyes and took a deep breath. This was just what he'd been afraid of. “Why do you ask?”

“Well, it's just that you look so pretty, and I was wondering what it would be like to be pretty as well.”

“You know Mrs Macready would think me the wickedest of witches if I were to dress you up too. She thinks it's bad enough that I do this to myself.”

“But it's not you doing it, is it? I'm the one who's asking.”

“Would you have asked if you hadn't seen me dressed this way first?”

“I suppose not. I never thought about men, and boys, wearing dresses before I saw you, but now that I have seen you, and the way you are when you're Mrs Tumnus, I've been having these feelings.”

“What sort of feelings?”

“Well, like I want to be the same way. I like sitting with you and chatting, and playing games and things, it's not like running around and climbing trees, which is all my brothers want to do. It's fun and makes me feel good inside, but when I do it like this, it's like standing in the doorway of a room, not really going all the way in.”

“I don't know, Lucas. It's one thing to have you here sharing this time with me, but it's another thing entirely for me to encourage you to do the same as I do. I don't do this for fun you know, but more as a way of dealing with my own feelings. Most people would have a problem seeing me like this. Mrs Macready doesn't thing it's right, but she makes allowances for it because she sees it is something I feel the need to do, and it makes me more agreeable in the afternoon if I've been able to spend a morning like this.

“I wouldn't wish the way I am on anyone. Having to hide this part of me away, knowing that people would laugh or shout at me if they could see me like this.”

“I didn't laugh or shout at you, Mrs Tumnus.”

“I know you didn't, Lucas, and that's because you are a very special boy. You don't copy the way other people think or act.”

“Maybe I'm special because I want to be like you.”

“Do you really think that?”

“I don't know. I think I would like it, but I'm not going to know unless you let me try it.”

The professor's face took on an expression of deep thought as he considered matters.

“You know, scientists and philosophers have debated for many years whether or not the way we are is in our nature or the way we are nurtured.”

“What do you mean professor? Oops, sorry, I mean Mrs Tumnus.”

The professor smiled, not only at the unintentional slip and its correction, but as a way of showing that he didn't mind.

“Well imagine a lion. You know how ferocious they are don't you?”

Lucas nodded his head.

“Imagine if you were to take a young lion cub and put him with a ewe. If she were to raise him as her own, would the lion grow up to think he was a lamb because of the way the ewe treated him, or would his lion nature get the better of him.”

“I'm not sure I understand.”

“Well I've heard of cats and even ducks being raised by dogs and thinking they are dogs themselves, so I wonder what it is that makes us what we are. If I forbid you to wear girl's clothing, would you grow up to be a normal man? If I were to allow it, would you grow up to be like me?”

“I think now that I know there are people like you, I'd always wonder what it would be like to wear a pretty dress and pretend to be a girl. I would wonder if it would really be pretending at all. On the inside I mean.

“I hoped you'd like the idea. You know, the two of us being girls together? I think it would be alright here. I mean I wouldn't want my brothers to find out, because they'd make fun of me, but with you it would be alright because you'd see me the same way I see you.”

“What if I were to say no?”

“Then I'd be really sad, and I probably wouldn't come to visit you anymore.”

The professor felt his defences crumbling. Even though this was only the second time Lucas had come to visit, he couldn't imagine himself going back to the way things were before. Life was to be shared, and being shut away by himself every morning was sad in a way that he was only now beginning to realise. He didn't want the visits to stop, and there was something in him — something he couldn't decide if it was wrong or not — that liked the idea of spending his mornings with a little girl just like he was.

If he were to do this to satisfy a perverse pleasure of his own it would be wrong, but if, as Lucas insisted, the boy himself wanted to make the change, perhaps it wasn't so wrong. He looked down into two pleading, hopeful eyes and felt the last of his resolve melt away.

“Alright. Come back tomorrow after Mrs Macready has gone, and I'll see what I can do.”

“Really? You really mean it?” Lucas jumped at the professor and wrapped his arms as far around the old man's waist as he could manage, surprised to be able to reach all the way, and a little disconcerted by the creaking.

He stepped back, looking warily at the professor's artificially narrowed waist.

“Does it hurt to wear that?”

The professor laughed. “It's a little uncomfortable, but you get used to it. It gives me better posture and makes me look more like a... a lady, so it's all worthwhile in the end.”

“Will I have to wear one?”

“I don't think it would be appropriate for a young... er... girl like yourself to have to strap yourself into one of these.”

“I'm glad. I don't think I would like it very much.”

Maybe this would be just a bit of fun and the young boy would find interest elsewhere after a day or two in dresses. Maybe this would be for the best after all.

“Tomorrow morning then Lucas, at about half past seven. You'd better run along for now before Mrs Macready comes to help me out of my lace prison.”

“OK, pr... I mean Mrs Tumnus. I'll see you tomorrow.” And with that Lucas dashed off, disappearing into the dark corridor.

The rest of the day passed so slowly Lucas began to wonder if it would ever end. He joined his brothers doing a jigsaw in the living room, but couldn't concentrate enough to contribute anything of use. He did see the professor at one point in the afternoon, but the old man seemed preoccupied with something and didn't stop to acknowledge them.

Mrs Macready finally called for them all to get ready for bed, and for once, Lucas was not among the dissenters. He was eager for the next day's adventures and only tiredness from the previous night's tossing and turning overcame his excitement and allowed his to sleep.

As before, he woke early — before the sun had risen and before there were any signs of stirring about the house. He grabbed his clothes and hurried off to get dressed, away from where his activities might disturb his brothers. It was cold, but the rain had stopped and the predawn light promised a clear day. Perhaps Mrs Tumnus would show him the garden today. He closed his eyes and tried to imagine the two of them, the lady and the little girl, walking among the roses and chrysanthemums , smelling the delicate perfumes of each different flower, but he had no experience to help him understand what it would be like and had to settle for the delighted sense of anticipation that filled him.

He found an old grandfather clock in the hall, not far from the room with the wardrobe, and settled down to wait, watching the hands crawl slowly across the dial.

Anticipation can only sustain you so long, and so it was that Lucas woke a second time, cold and stiff, to the sound of the clock sounding out the Westminster chimes and following them with seven long drawn out bongs. He stood to stretch out the aches, and to warm himself up he walked back and forth down the corridor between the wardrobe room and the clock. It was just gone ten past when he caught a glimpse of Mrs Macready stepping out into the corridor and back towards the kitchen. If she saw him at all, she didn't let on.

Lucas's heart was suddenly fluttering in his chest like a frightened bird. He could wait no longer and sneaked through the wardrobe into the hidden garden and the secrets it held.

“You're a little early,” said Mrs Tumnus as Lucas made his way round to greet her.

“I couldn't wait. I saw Mrs Macready leave, so I came straight away. Did you find anything for me to wear?” Impatient eagerness danced in the young lad's eyes like puppies allowed out of the house for the first time.

Mrs Tumnus stood, smiling at the boy's delight and pushed away the sadness and uncertainty that the professor felt lurking in the shadows of his mind. He led Lucas into the room behind the walkway where an array of white frilly lace had been laid out on the sofa.

“These were my sister's when she was about your age. They're not the height of modern fashion, but then there's little to recommend current trends in today's hard times.

“I shall leave you to dress in the underwear by yourself, but start with the stockings. They're a little like socks and will come to just above your knees. Then put on the bloomers,” he held up a pair of what looked like loose frilly trousers, gathered into frills at the bottom of the legs — which looked like they would come to just below Lucas's knees — and tied off with a drawstring at the waist. “Then put on the petticoat and lastly the camisole. You'll find it a little more comfortable if you tie off the drawstrings with bows behind you. When you're done, call me and we'll see about the dress.”

Lucas did as he was told, shivering more with excitement than the early morning chill as he slid the soft white cotton over his skin. Tying off the unfamiliar garments was a little awkward, but he thought he managed it quite well. With everything in place, he called to the professor, who came in and looked him over.

“Alright, we need to tighten the drawstrings at the bottom of your bloomers; that'll help to keep your stockings up. The rest of it, you've done really well. Alright, ready for the dress?”

Lucas was quivering uncontrollably. The look and feel of the underwear so far was making him light headed and he took in short gasping breaths. The professor held the dress over his head and he raised his arms in eagerness to complete his transformation.

The dress was loose in the bodice with loose sleeves, gathered to ruffles at the wrists. Over the top of this went a white, sleeveless smock apron with a ruffled hem that came to just above the hem of his dress. Shiny black shoes were buckled onto his feet and, as a finishing touch, a white mop cap with a generous frills around the edge was pulled onto his head hiding his short hair.

Lucas stood in font of the mirror and spun and jumped with delight. He almost forgot to breath, so enamoured was he with his new appearance.

“Oh, Mrs Tumnus, aren't I the most beautiful girl in all the world?”

“You are indeed very beautiful, my sweet child, and a beautiful girl such as you deserves a beautiful name. I wonder if you might like Cassiopeia?”

“Cass-a-loop-ula?”

“No dear,” the professor chuckled, “Cassiopeia. Or we could call you Princess Cas for short, because, dressed as you are, there is no doubt in my mind that you are indeed a beautiful princess, and one to put your namesake to shame.”

“What's a namesake?”

“It's someone after whom you're named.”

“So who was Princess Khazi-poop-ia?”

“Now you're doing it deliberately,” the professor laughed, Lucas joining in unashamedly. “According to ancient Greek mythology, Cassiopeia was the Queen of Ethiopia and she was supposed to have angered Poseidon, the god of the sea, by boasting that she and her daughter, Andromeda, were more beautiful than the Nereids, the daughters of another sea god.

“In punishment, Poseidon sent a monster to destroy the country. Cassiopeia and her husband, Cepheus, tried to appease the monster by chaining their daughter to a rock as a sacrifice. She was rescued by Perseus, and as punishment, Poseidon placed Cassiopeia in the heavens and chained her to a chair where she is to this day.”

“Do you think that God is angry with me for dressing like this?” Lucas's expression lost its delight and became quite worried.

“Do you know, I very much doubt it. If God is going to be angry with anyone, it would be with me for leading you astray and enabling you to do this.”

“But it was me who asked. I don't want you to get into trouble Mrs Tumnus.”

“And I really don't think I will my little princess. You see, when you asked to do this yesterday, I was worried that I might be encouraging you to do something wrong, that I wanted to fulfil my own selfish desires in turning you into someone like me. That's why I didn't want to do it. But as you became more insistent, I saw that you were already like me, and helping you to do this was kinder than refusing.

“I don't know if what I'm doing is good or bad, but I do know how hard it is to bottle up the feelings I've had when I couldn't be Mrs Tumnus, and it seems far more wrong to force that on you.

“Now, enough nonsense. Would you like to see my flowers?”

Lucas's smile was all the invitation the old man needed and so, hand in hand, they stepped out into the central garden where Mrs Tumnus introduced her little friend to all the delights she had worked so hard to cultivate there.