A/N: Longer chapter! The fun begins, with more Mary Sue/Gary Stu bashing. Enjoy.

Chapter Three: A Banquet of Laughter

Supper that evening was an interesting affair. The High King Peter and Queen Susan sat at the head of the long banquet table, with Edmund to Peter's right and Lucy to Susan's left. Lady Delphina sat at Lucy's side, glaring discretely at Edmund while taking sips of wine. Vindora and Falan sat at Edmund's side, in that order.

Occasionally Vindora would cast Delphina a confused glance, as if to say, Who is she, and what is she doing here?

Delphina glared back, thinking, Who is she, and what is she doing here?

Prince Falan, fortunately, was absorbed in staring at Queen Susan and drooling over her beauty.

Peter was absorbed in keeping his attention diverted from Lady Delphina and Lady Vindora.

Lucy was talking with Susan.

Edmund saw his chance. Keeping his voice low enough that the Lady Delphina could not hear, he began a conversation with Lady Vindora. It went something like this. "The Lady Delphina is quite beautiful, is she not?" (One mental groan attached).

Lady Vindora twitched one dark finger; her lip curled beneath her veil. "Yes, I suppose. Who is she, pray?"

Edmund looked shocked. "Have you not heard? Why, she plans to marry the High King before the next new moon." Lady Vindora gasped appropriately, and Edmund consoled his conscience by telling it that his words were not really a lie: no doubt Lady Delphina did indeed plan on marrying Peter soon. "Yes, it has been planned for months now," he continued, choosing his words with care. "I am surprised that a princess like you had not heard."

"Marriage," Vindora gasped, hardly moving her lips. "But…that can't be!"

Why, because the High King is 'all yours'? Edmund thought sarcastically.

Lady Vindora had regained her composure, and now cleared her throat purposefully. "When is this…supposed marriage to be?" she asked, her voice faltering a little.

"Oh…I really wouldn't know," Edmund replied vaguely, looking away with a distant expression.

"Well," Lady Vindora frowned at the sparkling burgundy contents of her wine glass, "Perhaps we could have a double wedding."

Edmund snapped out of his distant expression with reckless haste. "Oh no!" he cried. "I'm much too young for you!"

The lady stared at him as though he had gone out of his mind. In a confused, wondering sort of voice she said, "I meant my brother and Queen Susan."

Edmund blushed, shame-faced. "Oh." He returned to his supper, and kept his distance from her for the rest of the evening.

After the banquet, Queen Susan managed to convey to her younger sister that the one thing she least wanted to do right then was to entertain Prince Falan. So the poor man—if the dear Reader would deign to pity him—was dragged away from his beautiful, gorgeous, dazzling, lovely, drool-worthy idol by the young queen and taken to some other part of the hall. While being pulled along, he continued to look back over his shoulder and make unintelligent noises meant to convey his protestations. Lucy, however, only thought that he had had too much to eat and was consequently having trouble with his diaphragm. She thought of offering him an herb to help him digest, but decided against it in the nick of time.

Lucy steered him toward a set of doors that led out onto a wide balcony, but he resisted being led out of the room. Apparently he found it impossible to be out of sight of Susan. While Lucy babbled on about commonplace things, he leaned against the wall and kept the elder queen in sight at all times, his eyes beginning to glaze over and his tongue lolling out of his mouth. Suddenly he could hold in his emotions no longer. He let out a tremendous, lovesick sigh and clasped his hands to his heart, moaning, "Ah, her beauty is more than I can bear!"

Lucy stopped mid-sentence, mouth still open, and stared at the prince. Before she could recover herself, Falan was off on a romantic monologue about Queen Susan's outrageous beauty. "…For her eyes are like dark as pools filled with algae, and her mouth is as red as the Tisroc's (may he live forever) beard, and the sound of her name is to me like the sound of the supper gong."

Blinking twice, Lucy murmured, "How…fascinating."

But Prince Falan wasn't half finished yet. He kept going, punctuating his sentences with passionate moans. "When I see her, it is all I can do not to burst into praise of her beauty."

"You don't say?" Lucy sounded interested.

"For indeed, have you ever seen skin more white and smooth? Or teeth that were straighter? And surely the fresh straw of my stables does not compare to the beauty of her flowing hair."

"Oh, you should see her other wig."

"And her…" Prince Falan stopped, only just comprehending what Lucy had said. "Her other…what?"

Lucy drew in a deep breath, worked up her courage, and repeated, "Her wig. Didn't you know she wears a wig?"

The poor prince looked as though his fantasy world had just caved in around him. His mouth worked, but no words were produced. Finally he squawked, "But…the straw!"

Lucy was immediately sympathetic. "Oh, I know, it's hard to bear. A mouse chewed it all off one night while she was sleeping, and since then she's had to wear a wig. But really, it looks much better now."

Prince Falan once more turned hopeful. "Really?"

Lucy nodded, though still keeping a long and sober face. "Unfortunately, yes. Oh look! the dancing has started! Perhaps you would like to dance with m—" But she was too late. Prince Falan, feeling the young queen's grasp on his arm loosen slightly, shot off to find and dance with his beloved Queen Susan. Lucy watched him go, hoping that he wouldn't mention anything about a wig to Susan. Fortunately for the little schemer, no such conversation was broached by the Calormene prince, and the dance seemed to go smoothly.

All was going well, and Lucy smiled deviously and clapped her hands. This was only the beginning of Prince Falan's troubles.