With Courage [King Caspian X OC]

Chapter 30

By the time they arrived at the kitchens, Amber realised that her last real meal was on the Switchblade – well, if hardtack and cardboard-like pork could be considered a meal rather than an endurance trial – and she was, in fact, ravenous.

Cuthbert and Marianne, the married couple who ran the kitchens of Cair Paravel, were more than amenable hosts to their interlopers. Lunch had ended an hour ago, with enough food leftover to put together a fine spread for the pair of them while they peppered Amber with questions of London and her travels.

She relaxed into the conversation easily, buoyed by a perfect, if short, reunion and a stomach that was no longer eating itself for fuel. Since they docked that morning, her rampant anxieties were enough to give the illusion of being full, but now the source of her worries had been all but banished, she was all too aware of how exhausting her journey had been.

They stayed with Cuthbert and Marianne for several hours until they had to begin preparations for dinner, choosing to then amble through the castle for a slight tour that ended at the council room. From behind the closed door, they heard raised voices.

Marco winced. "Is the King still in there?" He asked.

The guard posted outside nodded with a grimace. "Wellin's up to his usual tricks again." Clearly, this was no new grudge she had stepped into. "I reckon he'll try and beat him down for a couple more hours."

"Very well." Marco sighed and turned to Amber. "We might as well see if your room is ready."

And so they did. "Who's beating down who?" She asked on route. Curiosity had itched at her ever since their confrontation in the corridor – this mysterious dealing, Wellin's borderline insolence.

Marco turned to look over his shoulder. In a low voice, he said, "Lord Wellin's always the one doing the beating. He has very strict opinions on how Caspian should be ruling Narnia but believes the King is doing everything in his power to defy his suggestions."

"Is he?"

"Not on purpose. At least, I don't think so."

"If they're always at odds, why is Lord Wellin still on the council?" She asked in the same hush he had used. Kaspar's talk of gossips and rumours had not been forgotten.

Marco sighed. "I wish I knew. Nobody's brave enough to ask." He turned to her as they reached her room in the one corridor she recognised but continued to talk before she had the chance to comment. "It all stems from one issue, really–"

The door opened. Marco cut off the rest of his sentence abruptly. Maria blinked back her initial shock and quickly met each of them with a low bow. "Sir Marco, Lady Amber." Then, just to Amber, "Your room is ready."

"Oh, thank you." She was led inside under the woman's watchful gaze to a chamber grander than any room she had seen in her lifetime.

The walls were tan and ornate, rising more than double her height, with a modest chandelier perched in the centre. Sunlight refracted off its crystals to scatter tiny prisms of light across the room, sparkling against the four-poster bed, the writing desk, the ivory fireplace. Gauzy curtains framed a row of arched windows opposite her, fluttering in the breeze. In the centre were a set of open doors, leading onto a balcony that faced the beach and the ocean stretching out beyond.

"Is it to your liking?" Maria asked.

Amber stifled a laugh. "I imagine this would be to anyone's liking." She said, turning to Maria with a smile she hoped conveyed the depth of her awe. "Thank you, again."

"Would you like me to send for a bath?"

"You need it." Marco chimed in, then shrugged when both women turned to him suddenly. "No offence."