(no subject)
He knows that there's some sort of magic to imitate doorbells on the private paintings, but still Edmund hesitates in the gallery for a long moment, standing in front of a painting of ships that do not quite look like the Dawn Treader, before instead searching out a painting of duelists.
He steps through, and his hand drops to his hip where the hilt of his sword is not, and he wonders if he should have brought it anyway.
He steps through, and his hand drops to his hip where the hilt of his sword is not, and he wonders if he should have brought it anyway.