I must have a talk with the kings and queens. For as hard as I have endeavored to restrain them, they insist on immediately having a ball for every new arrival in Narnia. I tell them that it is hardly in keeping with our isolationist policies, but of course I am ignored. I hear that our visitor has already been trying to convince my monarchs that I am an evil advisor. Pah! I believe "Lord of Narnia" would be a more fitting title than "that advisor guy." The only "guy" with whom I am familiar is one who, in an old Narnian story, conspired to destroy Cair Paravel with strange fire from the ground.* I preferred the moniker epatwercs.
Even worse, all these balls cost money. We may have to raise taxes; the people are already complaining that my monarchs spend all their time and resources either in balls, training, or purchasing new clothes. And, unfortunately, it is true. The business of actually running the kingdom has fallen upon poor, forgotten councilors such as Sallowpad and myself. Taxes, disbursal of government funds, saving of trees and stopping of busybodies and interferers, court cases… even good King Lune, Aslan grant him many more inches on his beard, will spend hours each day, listening to the complaints of his people. Our monarchs seem to have forgotten all this. They are blind to what happens outside the castle walls; the rest of Narnia, it seems, only exists as a place in which to take romantic pleasure rides. I fear that one day the people may revolt in disgust and put an end to them.
And did I mention interferers? Already the new girl thinks she knows more than us, the Lords and Councilors of Narnia! And our monarchs believe her! And they continue to bankrupt the kingdom with their gifts to her.
*Upon more research, I have discovered that the name of this scoundrel was Guy Fawkes, and that he knew of a magical substance named "gunpowder." I fear that he may become my hero.