It was wild turkey soup day at Cair Paravel.
Susan adored wild turkey soup. Chicken soup was delicious too with the fresh vegetables and potatoes and spices that the cook put in it, however, turkey soup was like chicken soup with something extra, like chicken soup with an exclamation point.
Lucy was at the local school, where she was spending the day reading to children. Peter and Edmund were caught up with various projects and had said that they would eat later, leaving Susan to have lunch with Anares. It was very quiet with her siblings not there. She was glad to see that at least Anares was enjoying the soup.
In fact, Anares enjoyed it so much that she completely forgot to put aside the customary piece of meat for her cat Taci. Only after the bowl was completely empty, did Anares put her hand to her mouth in consternation. "I forgot," she said quietly.
Taci meowed indignantly by her feet. She was not hungry exactly, since she was fed regularly, but she was used to sampling any meat or fish dishes her mistress might be eating for lunch. She was not used to being forgotten and felt very put out indeed.
"Have some more soup," Susan offered quickly. "There's plenty."
But Anares shook her head. She did not feel that it was polite to accept a second bowl either for herself or for Taci. She would take something else.
Susan felt herself go all hot at the prim refusal. She was a motherly person, who felt a perpetual longing to feed everyone and everything. She could see that Anares would like more soup. There was lots of soup. Why was Anares being so nonsensical?
"Do you know how much soup we have back in the kitchen?" she asked sharply.
Anares drew back, startled. Clearly, she had displeased the queen. She hadn't meant to.
"Let me show you. Stand up," Susan commanded regally. "Now follow me."
Anares followed, carrying Taci. She wouldn't dream of refusing a queen's orders but she was beginning to get an aching, awful feeling in her stomach.
The kitchen was hot and steamy. Seven big pots of soup stood on the stoves and several small tureens were placed on various counters, ready to be taken to various rooms at request. The cook, a she-dwarf named Mirla, stared at Susan and Anares. She wore long-sleeves, an apron and thick gloves. "Yes?" she inquired. "Have you another list of questions that I must answer or can I start on the preserves?"
Susan frowned. "Questions?"
"Yes, questions. King Edmund was here just a few minutes ago, asking me if I liked my working conditions, if I thought the kitchen was safe, and so on. Very sweet and all, your majesties' concern, but I would like to get some work done today." And with that, Mirla reached over and tapped Taci on the nose, affectionately.
No cat likes being tapped on the nose. Taci was no exception. She leaped from Anares' arms and to the space on the floor behind the nearest counter. Mirla stepped back, startled, and her elbow hit one of the soup tureens on the counter. The soup tureen tipped back.
Suddenly, Edmund was there, snatching the tureen by the red-hot handle and lifting it, just as the soup was about to splash onto Taci. As it was, only a tiny drop reached her, causing a startled meow.
In the first second, Edmund didn't seem to realize that the handle was hot, but in the next few seconds, his eyes widened with pain. He gave a small gasp but didn't drop the tureen, instead placing it onto the counter, carefully.
"Oh, Ed, your hand!"
"Your majesty!I didn't mean to!"
Both Susan and the cook pushed Edmund over to the cold water bucket and literally forced his arm into it. Mirla called for more ice. Then she turned to Aneres. "Do not bring animals into the kitchen."
"Sour cream," Anares said. "It helps with burns. And I'm sorry."
Of course, the cook knew this. But she had been so flustered by what happened that she had forgotten and Anares's reminder was needed. She went to get a vat of sour cream.
"You shouldn't have grabbed it," Susan whispered to Edmund, hoping Anares would not hear.
And let a whole tureen of hot soup drop onto a delicate creature such as Taci? Edmund thought. He said, "The pain alone would have killed the cat on contact."
Susan considered this and realized that he was right.
Mirla returned with the sour cream.
"I'll put it on myself," Edmund said. He drew his arm out of the water bucket. Immediately, his palm began to burn and sting as if it was still in contact with the hot handle. For a moment, he could not think of what to do next.
Before he knew it, Anares had covered his palm in sour cream, pulled off her long, soft hair ribbon and wrapped the ribbon around his hand in a sort of bandage. Then, she placed more ice on top of his bandaged palm. Only, then, she looked around, searching for Taci.
She saw that Susan had already picked her up and was holding her firmly.
Edmund felt the coolness spread through his hand and immediately, was aware of the concerned faces of the three others. He smiled. "Well, my research paid off. The kitchen is safe for professionals but definitely not safe enough for visitors such as kings, queens and cats. Now, let's have lunch, shall we?"
They had lunch. In her worry about Edmund's hand, Susan completely forgot that the Calormene diplomat's daughter was scheduled to arrive today.
Edmund reminded her. Then he added, "Do you think that you and Peter could manage to welcome her without me? It's not that I couldn't be there. I just know that you don't really need me. And she won't be offended at my absence if you tell her that I got injured this morning."
Susan sighed but didn't argue. She also told Anares that she did not have to be there to welcome the Calormene girl unless she wanted to.
Anares stood. "King Edmund, thank you again, for saving my cat," she said. Her voice shook a bit. Her eyes dropped to Edmund's bandaged hand, then, she turned quickly and left. Edmund looked after her and bit his lip. She was clearly upset. But he had no idea how to make it better.
Susan made her way into the receiving room.
Jasmeen was lovely. Her dark hair was braided in some kind of complicated pattern down her back and her silk top, trousers and slippers were the color of coral. She beamed at all of them and swept them a Calormene curtsy. Susan curtsied too. Peter made a welcoming speech and expressed the hope that Narnia and Calormen would always be at peace.
Joshta, the slave, was tall and strong with the expected olive skin and dark eyes, in his early twenties. He bowed to each monarch in turn and, then, asked Jasmeen if he could retire to the room that had been provided for him.
"You may," Jasmeen said sternly. "But I am still put out with you. And you must come to my room at precisely three. I have some work for you."
Something flickered in Joshta's eyes. It was very quick and Susan didn't quite catch it but perhaps it was…hurt? Then, he turned around and left the receiving room.
There was a brief silence. Susan understood that this was her cue. "Would you like to visit the garden or the seaside, tarkheena? Or would you prefer to get some rest first?"
Jasmeen thought for a moment. "Is the garden shaded? I care quite a bit about my skin."
"We can take sun umbrellas."
In the end, that is what they did. The garden in the back of Cair Paravel was a marvel and although Jasmeen was probably used to remarkable flowers surrounding her, she seemed to enjoy this one.
"You must think I am silly to be afraid of the sun," Jasmeen said to Susan as they walked. "But it is the fashion right now to lighten one's skin. You are fortunate to be naturally pale."
"I think your skin is a beautiful color."
"Of course it is," Jasmeen said, surprised. "But that has nothing to do with fashion."
Susan smiled. "May I ask you a question?" she ventured. "Do not answer it if you don't wish to."
"Of course," Jasmeen said. "I have my own list of questions for you, so I don't mind answering yours in the least."
"Why are you put out with Joshta?"
Jasmeen hesitated. She bit her lip. "It is a whole story. You see, before we got on the ship, we had to travel from our home to the docks. My younger sister accompanied us and we spent the night with a good friend of my father's. In the morning, my sister put on a new gown with a neckline that was rather…low. Or at least too low for a girl of eleven."
Susan nodded. She was following this so far.
"So, as we were standing by the dock, saying our goodbyes, Joshta said to her, 'Mistress, you must change your gown before you and your slaves begin the journey back home. It would not do to wear that as you are carried through the city.'" Jasmeen stopped and folded her arms. "Can you believe it?"
Susan frowned and tried to understand. "He shouldn't have said anything about how she looked?"
Jasmeen stomped her foot. "Well, naturally, there's that. But also, he gave her an order. He said 'you must' to my sister, who is clearly his superior. He has no right. And correcting how she dresses is my job."
Susan considered what to say. She tried to imagine a male servant giving Lucy that sort of advice. Even though, Lucy would never dress improperly, still, she tried to imagine it. And she concluded that she would be very grateful to someone like that. So she said, "I see," and left it at that.
It was late evening. Edmund had applied sour cream to his hand several times, as well as another cream the doctor recommended. Still, it stung and ached and the skin felt wrinkly, as if there was a large blister. Worst of all, it was his right hand, so he couldn't write. Edmund felt cross and ashamed of himself for feeling this way. He was a Narnian knight and ought to laugh at such a small injury. If only it wasn't so blasted uncomfortable!
Lucy peeked into Edmund room, eyes full of sympathy. She had just returned and been told about this morning's accident. "Ed, are you sure, you won't use the cordial?"
Edmund scowled. "We can't waste it on nonsense. One more word about it and you will need the cordial because I will push you out of the window."
Lucy fell silent.
"You did the proper thing," she finally said. "I don't know how miserable Anares would have been if her cat was hurt or killed."
"I'd like you to go talk to her," Edmund said. "Now."
Lucy frowned, puzzled. "Certainly. Why the urgency?"
"Because she is probably miserable all the same. She thinks the whole thing with my hand is her fault, she feels terribly guilty and thinks that we all blame her."
Lucy's eyebrows went up, then, towards the middle of her forehead. "Why didn't you speak to her yourself then? And how do you know what she thinks?"
Edmund ignored the first question and answered the second. "I just do," he said. "That's how sensitive people like her react. Go, speak to her. Tell her, I am quite all right and enjoying my evening."
"I do not lie," Lucy said with a sniff. "It is plain that you are not enjoying your evening. But you can be strong and tough when you see her tomorrow and act like your hand doesn't bother you a bit." She smiled. "After all, your heart can feel what her heart is feeling."
After Lucy had gone, Edmund opened the fist on his other hand. He had Anares' hair ribbon in it. It wasn't very clean anymore. But it was hers. He decided to hide it and keep it.
Reading over this chapter, Susan appears rather unpleasant. Really, I didn't mean to make her that way. Everyone has their weaknesses and for Susan, the weakness is that she is just not heroic and doesn't like it when her family is either. But she's going to prove herself a bit more later on, I know she will.
