The woman seemed displeased to have her invitation so boldly rejected, but quickly engrossed herself discussing more interesting matters with her peers. Lucy was about to leave when she caught on that they had moved onto the topic of the king's bride-to-be.
"I heard she's quite odd," said one mousy-haired lady in a low, conspiratorial tone.
"I heard she's trained in combat!" exclaimed another, a blonde with hair taller than Lucy's head.
"Just as I said, odd."
"But the king seems determined to marry her," said the lady who'd entreated Edmund to join her before. "Why do you suppose he'd do such a thing? I heard she isn't even pretty."
Lucy smiled. Word-of-mouth always had its flaws.
"Perhaps he's just got bad taste," suggested someone. Lucy had fallen into step a ways behind them on the pretense of looking for something in the grass by the path.
"Well I hear he plans to give her a rather special gift," said the mousy-haired lady in a hushed voice. She waited to be asked to continue, which her companions did after a moment's hesitation. She leaned in close to them and said, as if it were the most shocking thing she'd ever heard, "A weapon."
There were exclamations of surprise from the surrounding ladies.
"Impossible!" one declared.
"Not impossible at all, I hear he's presenting her with her very own bow and feathers!" said the blonde.
"Arrows," corrected another quickly, and the blonde waved her off.
"I hear they're magic," piped in Edmund's admirer. Lucy still felt rather ill at the sound of her voice. But this had been valuable information, and she turned to inconspicuously walk back towards the building. Susan's bow and arrow were to be given back to her at the wedding ceremony. This was crucial. She would find out where they were being kept, something she did not expect the ladies of the courtyard to know, and retrieve them. With them would be the horn, and they could call upon help, if the need arose. Excitement ran through her and she turned, tucking something imaginary into her apron pocket and rising in triumph, as if she'd found what she was looking for. Then she made a beeline for the castle.
Inside, it was even more splendorous than out, but again, it rang of falseness and felt unnatural to Lucy, who had always been rather attuned to such things. The tapestries on the wall were obviously not handmade, for on close inspection, they were so perfect that not a stitch could be seen, and the sculptures had been worn down so thoroughly that not a mark of the chisel could be seen on them. There was a technical perfection to the decoration, but it lacked any feeling of celebration or artistry. Lucy much preferred the Cair's more sparse, but also more earnest decoration.
Lucy, figuring that her sister's gifts would be with the other wedding presents, resisted the temptation to go and find her sister (which was indeed a great one) and quickly formulated a plan. She found a broom closet, and set about dusting the entryway purposefully, paying special attention to all the statues. She found she rather enjoyed it, and one of the overseers, upon passing her, actually remarked on the enthusiasm of her work and gave her a solemn nod of approval before moving on. A few guests moved through once or twice, including Edmund, who was engaged in easy conversation with another elder Lord. He had always been the most glib of them, and here it was paying off. He didn't even pass his sister a look as he swept by, but she knew he had seen her.
Finally, a lady in fine clothes swept inside the castle while three servants with their arms full of bags tottered after her. Noticing one fine box of a bright pink and topped with a silver ribbon, Lucy approached the man who was carrying it and set her duster on a nearby table.
"Present for the king, sir?" she asked expectantly. He grunted and nodded, and she cheerfully said, "I'll take it up to the gift room for you."
He dropped it into her arms gratefully, and when her duster was under her arm, Lucy set away as quickly as possible before they could ask her about the castle or the celebration. She knew too little to risk being questioned. She set up the first flight of stairs she found, and after a moment, glimpsed one of the overseers conversing with another maid in a corridor. She waited politely a minute, then when their business was finished, stepped in to intercept him.
"Excuse me, sir," said Lucy, dipping her knees. "I only just came in yesterday, to help prepare for the ceremony, and I haven't been told where the gift room is. Could you perchance give me directions?"
The man did without questioning her at all, and Lucy set off for her destination, which she found without much trouble. It was on the third floor, tucked away in a side corridor with two guards posted at it, but apparently she was the sort of thing that happened regularly; they only opened the door and nodded her through.
This room was not splendorous in decoration. In fact, it was totally empty, with plain, strong stone walls and not a single window, but its contents were almost enough to take Lucy's breath away. The place was absolutely stuffed with gifts – packages of eye-burning colors and too much ribbon, enormous boxes and long tubes and all manner, all covered in paint and stones and all kinds of hideous decoration. Lucy dropped the pink box in a spare space and knew she had a tiny bit of time to look before the guards grew suspicious. However, she didn't have to look long.
The one piece of furniture in the room was a stone pedestal, on which rested a long, thin, silver-painted package. It had obviously been enchanted, because it sparkled in a distracting way, but it was exactly the size of box to carry Susan's bow (if it were unstrung) and quiver. Though she knew she wouldn't be able to sneak it out past the sentries, Lucy wanted to be sure it was what she thought, and waded through the sea of presents to reach out for it. But when her hands neared it, abruptly they felt as if they'd been thrust into a burning fire, and she let out a small gasp and jumped backwards, tumbling down into the mash of boxes.
A second later and the guards burst in at the noise. But Lucy had thought quickly, and had looked at her hands immediately to tell if there was any evidence of wrongdoing. There was not. And so she clutched her knee and whimpered softly.
"I'm so sorry," she said to the guards, her big blue eyes filling with tears. "I've slipped and hurt my knee. I didn't mean to. I'm so sorry."
Moved by pity, one of the guards, a slim fellow with a long nose, pushed aside a few gifts to kneel beside her and check her knee for damage. Finding that she'd probably just twisted it, he and his companion helped her to her feet and she limped very convincingly out of the room, thanking them profusely. The second she was out of sight, she hurried off again. Taking the bow was not an option yet. Now was the time to find Susan.