When the party finally arrived at Cair Paravel, they were weary but content. The horses were taken to the stable, and the royal group separated, each going to their private chambers for a nice hot bath.
There's nothing quite like a hot bath, fresh nightclothes, and clean bedding after sleeping outdoors. Amy had been camping before, but never in a dress, so the rich, homey feeling of the clean sheets she lay in was much more dramatic. Eventually, she fell asleep.
The days went by, and Amy began to learn new things every day about palace life, tips on how to run a country, and other things. At the end of each day, she and her aunts and uncles gathered in her bedchamber to say goodnight. Afterward, she would usually lay in bed and think. One night, as she found it difficult to sleep that night, she thought she heard the sound of a violin being played in the distance. They have violins here? I knew there were pipes, and guessed that there might be stringed instruments like lutes, but a violin? Where is that chap? With that thought, she crawled out of bed and went in search of the delightful music.
Amy tip-toed down the halls, turning this way and that according to the sound's direction, and she eventually found herself at a door. The latch had not completely gone in, so she gently pushed the door open just enough to put her eye at the crack. It was a bedchamber. There were a few candles illuminating the room, but the crack only allowed Amy to see the musician's arm. However, she could tell that it was a young man, and that his back was to her. His playing was full of emotion. As the music continued, Amy gradually pushed the door further and further until her head could fit through. She could see the man now; he was short, dark-haired, and in good health. He stopped playing, having finished his song. Oh no! He's turning around! she thought. She started to close the door, but it was too late. The musician had already seen her. Her first instinct was to run away; however, knowing that he'd seen her, she re-opened the door.
The young man's face had a kind look upon it. "Oh! I didn't know that I had an audience," he said. "Did I wake you, m' lady?"
"N-no, Sir," Amy stammered. After an awkward pause, she asked, "Please, Sir, might I ask how you came to have that instrument? I've heard it called a violin where I come from."
"It was a gift from an old man, my lady."
"Who are you?" asked Amy.
"I am a traveler."
"Do... do you not have a name, Sir?"
The musician said nothing. Amy decided she wouldn't press the him any further, and so simply stood there.
"Might I play something for you?" the young man offered.
"Alright. Surprise me." The musician then proceeded to play a Calormene tune. Where have I seen him before? I do hope that the aunts and uncles know, because if they don't, I'll... I'll... I don't know what I'll do, she thought.
When the man was finished playing, Amy curtsyed, said "Good night," and went back to bed.
The next morning, Amy went about her toilet as usual while her dryad maid, Luned, made the bed. "You're rather quiet this morning, Miss," noted Luned. "Is something wrong?"
"No, I-I'm fine."
"Did you sleep well?"
"For the most part, yes."
Luned finished making the bed, turned to Amy, and looked closely at her. "Are you sure you're well? Did you have a bad dream? You appear disturbed."
"Luned, I'm fi..." Amy began, but she then saw the knowing look on Luned's face and said, "Alright, I am a little disturbed. It concerns something I mean to speak with my aunts and uncles about."
Luned pressed Amy no further. The two went to join their majesties in the garden for breakfast, and Luned began serving. "Would anyone like a special beverage?" she offered.
"Yes, I'd like some milk, please," replied Aunt Susan.
Leaning towards Aunt Lucy, Amy asked, "What's a special beverage?"
"Oh that! It's Luned's way of describing any drink other than water."
"Oh, I see. Yet another one of her coined terms." The rest in turn asked for the drink they wished to have with their breakfast.
After breakfast was over, Amy asked to have a private meeting with her aunts and uncles. She described to them what had happened the night before, and asked, "Do any of you know this young man?"
"I'm not sure," said Uncle Peter. "You say that he did not say his name. Could you describe his appearance once more?"
"He was rather short, but not as short as a dwarf. He had black hair which was cut short and combed. He had a short, black mustache. His skin was relatively dark, but still Caucasian. His manner of speaking was very much like ours, and he wore Narnian clothes. He said not where he was from," explained Amy.
"I would have said that he was a Calormene, but the manner of speech confuses me," said Uncle Peter.
"You mean that you don't know who he is?" said Amy in surprise. "But... but..."
Aunt Susan slowly said with embarrassment, "They don't know. I do." Everyone looked at her.
"I found him on the beach late last night. He was unconscious, and I thought he'd stay asleep. I had meant to tell you about him when I had the opportunity."
"Well, there isn't much to be done about it now," said Uncle Peter patiently.
"What do you know about him, Susan?" asked Uncle Edmund.
"I'm pretty sure that he's Calormene. He was mumbling in the Calormene tongue while unconscious. He also wore a bracelet with that blue and white circular talisman. I don't know how he attained his Narnian accent, though," she explained.
"Do you know anything else?" Uncle Edmund inquired.
"No," Aunt Susan replied.
"Amy, what did you see in his countenance?" Uncle Edmund asked.
"His countenance was unlike what one would expect from a Calormene. He appeared quite chivalrous, really. He had one of those looks that honestly said that he put others before himself. I'm not sure how, it just was so."
"I wonder if he's up yet," commented Aunt Lucy.
All gasped as they realized that in the midst of talking about their guest, they had forgotten him. Uncle Peter sent a servant to see how the mysterious musician was while they royal family discussed what the plans for the day were. Amy was sent to fetch some letters from Uncle Peter's study. When she rejoined with her aunts and uncles in the court garden, she found the Calormene with them.
"Good morrow to you, sir," she greeted him.
"Good morrow, m' lady," he replied.
There was a moment of awkward silence, which was broken by Amy saying, "Here are the letters you wanted, Uncle Peter."
"Thank you, dear," he said accepting the stack of envelopes. "Oh, Amy, you have a visitor in the orange orchard."
"What? How very odd. Might I be introduced to our guest first?"
"By all means, my lady," said the Calormene. He looked younger in daylight, about Amy's age even. "I am Demma son of Qadri son of Mahmood of the province of Koordesh in Calormen. And you, my lady?"
Amy replied, "I am Princess Esterami, Duchess of Beaversdam, heir to the kings and queens of Narnia, high king of which is Peter the Magnificent. I'm very pleased to have met you, but I must go." With that, she curtsyed and went off to the orange orchard.
When she arrived there, the one who awaited her was none other than Mr. Starling.
"Good morrow, my lady," he addressed her.
"Ah... good morning, sir," she replied slightly confused. Why was he here? What did he want? Was he really as stupid as he looked? Thousands of questions ran through her mind as she looked at the odd bird.
"How have you been these past few weeks?" he asked.
"I've been well, thank you. You?" she replied awkwardly
"Very well, very well, thank you." A short silence lay in the air moment or two, which was broken by Mr. Starling saying, " 'T is a beautiful morning, is it not?"
"Mr. Starling, it is a lovely morning, but I'd rather not talk about the weather. Whenever people talk about the weather, it's always a preclude to something else, so let's just get on with what you've come here for, shall we?"
"I've taken a fancy for you, m'lady. I'd like to call on you from time to time. Is that acceptable?"
After pausing for a moment, Amy replied, "Yes, that may be acceptable." I don't have a fancy for you, though, Mr. Starling, she thought.
"Good day then, m'lady," said the Starling. With that, he flew off.
Where is his honor? thought Amy. Thought he that he could simply fly in, say, "I have a fancy for you," and and then leave just like that? Oy vey.
Amy went rejoined her aunts, uncles, and Demma. As she thought, she saw that she had seen in one morning the comparison of an honorable male and an dishonorable male.
