This is the tale of a journey that takes Luna not only to discover the world beyond Narnia's borders; she will find a purpose that goes deeper than protecting her king.
» That's why. I can't protect you the way I should... « As she looks into his ey...
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Cutlery clatters on plates, glasses clink, and napkins rustle as the guests are indulged in an outstanding dinner. Luna is seated between Drinian to her left and an older couple to her right. On the captain's other side dines Caspian, who insisted Lord Bern to be the head of the table. Melian sits to her husband's right, their daughters from the youngest to the oldest next to her. Though, the second is yet to reclaim her seat.
As Drinian is engaged in a discussion with the king and the duke, Luna is glad to have the first course to occupy herself with. She was not yet introduced to the lady beside her and has no idea if and how to start a conversation. Small talk has never been her forte. The warrior isn't displeased with her position at the table; it is a great honour to sit so close to the hosts and the king. She is third in command on the Dawn Treader; therefore this is her privilege, yet not all their hosts have been so forthcoming so far. The Duke of Galma, for example, had her placed with the sailors at the edge of the banquette hall – Caspian and the captain were quite peeved while Luna was content. Right now, she would prefer to be in the middle of her comrades. Being used to their banter and uncomplicated way makes the courtly etiquette even harder to follow. She surely has taken a sip from the wrong glass for this course. The order of the cutlery, at least, she internalized – always start from the outside and work your way towards the plate, small spoons or forks laid out on top of the plate are reserved for dessert. She can practically hear Madame Senta tell her to keep her hands off the spoon for another course. The Crown Shield is not uneducated in decorum, of course, she served as a maid and later as a lady's maid in the entourage of a low noble. Before the revolution. Yet, she prefers the simpler ways, the uncomplicated ones.
» Yes, black sails, I tell you. « Luna's eyes snap up at this snippet of conversation. Straining her ears, she tries to pinpoint the speaker. A futile attempt in a room full of people chatting and chattering.
» Apologies, but I doubt it, « a male voice cuts through the others,
» A black flag, maybe, but sails? No one would be so- « Luna's attention is claimed by the older woman seated next to her who leans over,
» You're searching for the gentleman two seats down from little Noemi. « Luna stares at the lady, pondering what to reply,
» I beg your pardon? «
» Ah, well, I didn't introduce myself. Apologies. I am Orianna, « after a pause she adds,
» Merling. « Another brief pause in which the older lady scrutinises Luna,
» And you are, I suppose, the young lady sailing with King Caspian. « Luna senses the tone. This was not a question. So, she simply gives a nod – curt, militarily even,
» Good to make your acquaintance, Lady Merling. « She tries to remember all courtly education she received so far – which is little. Little education, so to speak, but a lot of first-hand experience. Watching feasts and gatherings and whatnot unfold from the shadows, from a safe distance, turns out to be quite the learning experience. The older lady waves her hand dismissively,
