in which every chapter is better than the one before

She has some things in the room-that-was-hers, still, really, but most of them--nearly all, if Lucy thinks on it--are in the room-that-is-theirs, now.

And she's glad of it, because she's no interest in carrying things about tonight, as they both step through the painting and she looks over at Caspian, eyes a little tired and a great deal pleased.

Because they're home.

And that alone is enough for all to be right with the world.