The Chronicles of Narnia: The Lion, the Witch and the Wardrobe Page #3

as delightful as you are.

But you see, Edmund,

I have no children of my own.

And you are exactly the sort of boy

who I could see, one day,

becoming Prince of Narnia.

Maybe even King.

Really?

Of course, you'd have

to bring your family.

Oh.

Do you mean,

Peter would be king too?

No! No, no.

But a king needs servants.

I guess I could bring 'em.

Beyond these woods,

you see those two hills?

My house is right between them.

You'd love it there, Edmund.

It has whole rooms

simply stuffed with Turkish delight.

- Couldn't I have some more now?

- No!

Don't want to ruin your appetite.

Besides, you and I are going to be

seeing each other again very soon.

I hope so, Your Majesty.

Until then, dear one.

Mmm, I'm gonna miss you.

Edmund?

Oh, Edmund! You got in too!

Isn't it wonderful?

- Where have you been?

- With Mr. Tumnus. He's fine.

The White Witch hasn't found out

anything about him meeting me.

The White Witch?

She calls herself the Queen of Narnia,

but she really isn't.

Are you all right? You look awful.

Well, what'd you expect?

I mean, it's freezing.

- How do we get out of here?

- Come on.

This way.

Peter, Peter, wake up!

Peter, wake up!

- It's there! It's really there!

- Shh.

- Lucy, what are you talking about?

- Narnia!

It's all in the wardrobe

like I told you!

- You've just been dreaming, Lucy.

- But I haven't!

I saw Mr. Tumnus again!

And this time Edmund went too.

You... You saw the faun?

Well, he didn't actually

go there with me.

He...

What were you doing, Edmund?

I was just playing along.

I'm sorry, Peter.

I shouldn't have encouraged her,

but you know what little children

are like these days.

They just don't know

when to stop pretending.

You children are one shenanigan

shy of sleepin' in the stable!

Professor. I'm sorry. I told them

you were not to be disturbed.

It's all right, Mrs. Macready.

I'm sure there's an explanation.

But first of all, I think this one

is in need of a little hot chocolate.

Come along, dear.

You seem to have upset the delicate

internal balance of my housekeeper.

We're very sorry, sir.

It won't happen again.

It's our sister, sir. Lucy.

- The weeping girl.

- Yes, sir.

- She's upset.

- Hence the weeping.

It's nothing.

- We can handle it.

- Oh, I can see that.

She thinks she's found a magical land.

In the upstairs wardrobe.

What did you say?

Um, the wardrobe, upstairs.

Lucy thinks she's found a forest inside.

She won't stop going on about it.

- What was it like?

- Like talking to a lunatic.

No, no, no, not her.

The forest.

- You're not saying you believe her?

- You don't?

But of course not.

I mean, logically, it's impossible.

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