Chapter VIII: The Secretary of Agriculture.
Cair Paravel hosted at least sixty guests for supper on any given evening. Today there were about ninety. To Robin, whose life at home included a steadily decreasing number of people, it seemed like everyone in the Narnian universe had a seat at the long table.
He was sandwiched between Macurdey, whose plate was of course piled high with vegetables, and a rather stout, grey-bearded faun who kept asking people to pass the sardines.
"That fellow on your right…" Macurdey whispered (though no one could have heard him above all the people talking anyway) "…is Tumnus, the oldest friend of our dear Kings and Queens."
The fighting Rabbit now sported a bandage over his black eye, which loaned him a comically rakish appearance.
He continued, "Now that Tumnus is getting up in years he rarely leaves his little cave in Lantern Waste. Whatever brought him out must be pretty important."
"I hope it's a good important," Robin murmured. He remembered from his last visit that Lantern Waste was the Western frontier of Narnia, and that was where all the trouble was coming from…
Despite the overall cheery atmosphere, he could feel tensions of all kinds simmering in the lengthening shadows. A delegation of Mrekan in tanned leather tunics and denim trousers sat across from the Telmarine diplomats in their heavy armor.
Caspian was surrounded by girls. Corin stared disconsolately at one—a blonde with purple eyes and a sarcastic smile. Robin guessed she was the infamous Tamora Brinn.
Beside Corin sat his brother, deep in conversation with Aravis. They were smiling and laughing, but his serious eyes never left her face.
Poor Corin, Robin thought. His brother has found a great girl—whether or not they know that yet—and he's jealous.
He knew from having older siblings that the hormones and emotions of teenagers caused them no end of pain. He felt deeply sorry for the lovelorn prince.
Then he pictured Corin attempting to woo Kitt, and the spiced wine he'd been drinking shot out his nose.
"What's so funny, lad?" Macurdey inquired.
The boy shook his head. "Ah, nothing…"
"Well, kindly watch where you spray next time. I don't particularly like my cabbage sautéed in snotty wine."
"Sorry." Robin tried to choke down his guffaws.
Tumnus rose from his seat. The shadows and torchlight made his silhouette look rather devilish, but he had a very kind face.
The faun clip-clopped to the other end of the hall. Robin saw him bend and whisper in the ear of a handsome young man whose golden hair gleamed as bright as the likewise golden circlet he wore on his head.
Is that Peter? Robin thought. I hope I look that good when I'm twenty-nine.
Tumnus walked back to his seat. The High King turned and spoke low to the people sitting with him on the dais.
Robin studied them, testing his memory.
The gorgeous lady with the black hair is Susan, I suppose. The younger girl, the blonde one, must be Lucy. This disconcerted Robin; last time he'd seen Lucy, she'd been younger than him. The pale, somber-looking guy is Edmund, and—wait! Who's the other woman?
The lady in question sat at Peter's right hand. She wore a yellow dress, and there were oak leaves twined in her long dark hair. Her face was beautiful, though its features were stern. Although she was seated, she seemed very tall to Robin.
Macurdey followed Robin's eyes. "That's Lavinia Etano. She's our Secretary of Agriculture."
"She must be a pretty special Secretary of Agriculture if she gets to sit with the royal family."
"Oh, she is. She's also betrothed to the High King. Unfortunately, many oppose the match. Lavinia's father is Mrekani. Many fear the union of a Narnian King with a Mrekani half-blood would lead to war with Telmar."
"Silence!" cried a page suddenly from near the dais. "The High King wishes to make an announcement!"