kitchen_maid | Phantasmorania

Phantasmorania

The grand entrance hall of the Palace at Phanff is an impressive sight. It's intended to be. And it's a logical place for King Caspian of Narnia to begin his visit to his adopted sister's native country.

Unfortunately, the entrance from Milliways is through a broom cupboard across from Amy's turret room. So getting to the grand entrance hall has required some creative (and not terribly successful) sneaking down several flights of stairs and more than a few corridors.

But they've made it, and Amy turns, with her customary bright smile, to greet him formally and welcome him to the palace. But instead she simply starts to giggle. "You're as terrible at sneaking as you ever were, aren't you?"

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"Kings rarely need to sneak," he answers, airily, and grins at her.

"And yes, I suppose I am. Do you think anyone has seen us?"

"Possibly," she says, with a smile. "But I shouldn't worry about it too much. "People are used to me doing rather mad things, so they don't pay a lot of attention. Anyway, welcome to Phantasmorania."

He has been looking about, throughout their way through the palace, and taking note, delightedly, and now he takes Amy's hand firmly and with a smile.

"I like it already. So this is where you grew up?"

"Well, not in the entry hall," she says, smile wrinkling her nose. "But, yes, here in the palace, and, as often as possible, in the Forest outside the palace. And I'm glad you like it. Though there's still a lot for you to see. Like most of the rooms, and all of the gardens, and the Phantasmorania end of the Forest, which is slightly more lovely than the Ambergeldar end. Oh, and Daddy is, I think, going to insist on taking you to see his onion patch."

"I think you mentioned he might," he laughs back. "I'll be happy to see your father's onion patch. I'm terribly excited to meet them, Amy. I'll enjoy seeing the rooms and the gardens, of course, but I'm most looking forward to seeing your parents. I do hope they like me."

There's a glint of mischief in his eyes as he finishes.

"They're going to adore you," she says. "And they've heard ever so much about you all ready, most of which you shouldn't have any trouble at all living up to."

There's more than a glint of mischief in her eyes as she finishes.

He laughs.

"I don't suppose you'll be giving me any warnings beforehand, will you?"

"Surely His Majesty does not mean to imply that there could be anything in Phantasmorania that should require a warning, does he?" she asks, all wide-eyed innocence.

Aside, of course, from his sister.

"Only you," he returns, giving her a quick hug, not convinced in the least by her innocence.

"Perhaps your parents will grant me sanctuary from your antics."

"Possibly," she agrees, still unconvincingly innocent. "Though I live here, too, so I'm not sure it would be terribly effective sanctuary. The cathedral might be a better choice."

And then she laughs.

"What would you like to do or see first?"

"Perhaps you'd show me the outside?" he wonders. "And then we might come back and see your parents. Is there anything in particular that you might want to show me?"

"The Forest," she says. "But we can start with the gardens. And it's just getting warm enough that we shan't have to bother with cloaks and gloves and the like. And I think you'd like the royal library, but it's best on a rainy afternoon, and this morning is far too fine to spend indoors anyway."

"Then to the Forest and the gardens it is," he says, offering her his arm cheerfully.

"Though I rather hope your god-mother won't appear so suddenly. She gave me rather a turn that last time."

"I'm still sorry I missed her that day," says Amy, taking his arm and setting cheerfully off through the main entrance to the palace.

The gardens are carefully and formally laid out, and this early in the year, not much is blooming yet, but the crocuses and daffodils and tulips are doing their best to be suitably colorful. Amy walks very slowly, to give Caspian time to look at everything.

It isn't really much like Narnia--there is no scent of the sea--but Caspian is reminded of the mountain lands of Archenland, of the stone castle there and the friendly forest-folk.

"It's lovely, Amy, truly."

After they have walked for a while, he stops beside one of the flower gardens, and takes a deep breath of the sweet air.

"Nicer than the gardens at Cair Paravel, even. We had an excellent orchard, but the gardens were often left to their own devices for a spell."

"It's a little too orderly for me," she confesses. "This is where my sisters stayed, mostly. I always wanted to get to the other side of the wall. But I like the colors. And the flowers that bloom this early are always so friendly-seeming. I always feel like the tulips are nodding a hello, and a daffodil couldn't keep a secret from you if her life depended on it."

"They're very cheerful," he agrees. "A favorite of Bacchus and the wild girls during the spring Romp."

He glances around, not quite furtively.

"I don't suppose any of your sisters are around right now, are they?"

"They are all safely off at their husbands' castles," says Amy, laughing. "You shall have to wait for the wedding to meet them. Though in the meantime, you will have to watch out for Lady Alyssa, who is every bit as proper, far more eligible, and here visiting."

"I'll do my best," he promises, "though I'm certain she's very nice."

He almost gets away with a looking around the garden to make certain said Lady Alyssa is nowhere in sight.

"She doesn't come out without her canopy," says Amy. "So she'll have a great deal of trouble sneaking up on you. And she's horrid. We'll avoid her, and we shan't waste any more time talking about her. Out to the Forest or back in to the palace?"

He looks around, considering, and then turns to look back at the palace.

"Back, I think," he says, thoughtfully. "To meet your parents before it gets too late. You know how we ramble when we're in the woods, Amy. And we can always come back out afterwards. What do you think?"

"And there are rather a lot of woods here," she says. "Yes, I think that's probably the better plan. Because I do want you to meet them before things get any crazier than they already are."

"It could be far too late for that already," he laughs, but offers her his arm as they walk back, taking their time (the gardens really are lovely).

Outside the palace, he has Amy check one last time for grass or leaves in his hair, and stands up straight.

"Right," he says, and winks at her. "Shall we?"

"We shall," she says, and then adds, "they're going to adore you, Caspian."

But before they actually make it back into the palace, there's a call.

"Amy? Is that you?"

Amy grins at Caspian. "I think Daddy's in the onion patch," she tells him.

"Coming, Daddy!"

"The famous onions!" he says, delightedly, and follows her as she leads him around a corner to a smaller patch of garden.

The kitchen garden lacks the curving paths and ornate paving stones of the flower gardens. This is the business end of things, neat straight lines, tidy plots. And at the end of the row, the onion patch, in which His Majesty King Hulderbrand is kneeling on a velvet cushion, examining onion sprouts.

"Look, dear," he says, "four more since yesterday."

"That's wonderful, Daddy," says Amy, kissing the top of his head. "But there's someone here I'd like you to meet, if you can tear yourself away for a moment."

Caspian has been looking about the patch with great interest, noting the growth of the sprouts and the tidiness of the garden, and now he strides forward, smiling cheerfully. He looks very boyish, and charming, and not at all like King Caspian of Narnia, though he somewhat resembles Prince Caspian of his boyhood years.

"A very fine pleasure to meet you, sir," he says, bowing gracefully. "My name is Caspian."

Amy's father gets up, smiling.

"Ah, so this is Caspian. I'm Hulderbrand," he adds, with a slight nod, one king to another. "Welcome to Phantasmorania. My daughter has, I suspect, told you almost as much about it as she's told us about you."

"It has been a delight to hear about, sir," he replies, smiling back. "And I've enjoyed hearing about it. Your land is very fair, sir--it reminds me of my own home, far from here."

"Well, you're more than welcome to stay as long as you like," King Hulderbrand says. "There's plenty of room. And you will, of course, be coming to the wedding?"

"Of course he will," says Amy. "He's family."

"I wouldn't miss it," he laughs. "I'll be glad to see, er, meet," he amends quickly, as Amy elbows him subtlely in the ribcage, "King Pe--Algernon. I've heard some quite remarkable things about him as well, and of course," he turns a fond smile on Amy, "I'll have to see my little sister married."

Really, one of these days Caspian is simply going to have to buckle down and learn to be sneaky.

"We couldn't possibly have the wedding without him," says Amy.

"Then he'll have to be here," says King Hulderbrand. "Now, Caspian, what do you know about onions?"

"Nothing, sir," is the prompt answer, and he raises his hands, palm up.

"I'm afraid I know very little about them."

This leads to a half hour tour of the onion patch, with Amy trailing along behind, while her father shows Caspian various onion shoots (and the future locations of the ones that haven't sprouted yet), and explains the use of this onion and that onion, and the best sort of conditions for growing each.

It's possible that they'd have been in the onion patch for hours, had Amy not finally interrupted to say, "Daddy, we'll be late for luncheon."

Caspian nods gravely, and follows with interest, and learns more about onions in this one half-hour than he had ever previously desired to know, but the King is a remarkably good-natured fellow and he adores his onions...

So Caspian hears about onions.

This is not to say he isn't somewhat relieved by Amy's interference, and he grins over at her when her father's back is turned.

"Thank you, sir," he says, sincerely. "That was truly educational."

"You're very welcome, sir," says the King, then kisses his daughter and bustles off to get cleaned up.

Amy looks at Caspian and grins.

"And now you've seen the Royal Onion Patch, my lord," she says, formally.

Then dissolves into giggles.

"I liked it very much," he says, but he's grinning hugely, and laughs as they head in to the luncheon themselves.

"And now I know all I'll ever need to know about onions."

"Oh, there's much much more to know," says Amy, "though I can't think you'd ever need to, in all honesty.

"And you're in luck. Luncheon is just the family today -- no councilors, no visiting noblemen. So it should be very pleasant."

Which is so refreshing.

(Just like the luncheon, which Queen Rodehesia ordered to be simple and cool, with a maximum of five courses.

And tea.)

She's looking terrible pleased, therefore, as her daughter enters, and finishes speaking with one of the lady's maids before the girl leaves the room and she turns, with studied grace and a somewhat familiar looking smile (though Amy in no other way resembles her mother).

"Why, hello, dear!" she says, beaming at her daughter. "Who is our guest?"

"Hello, Mama," says Amy. "This is Caspian X of Narnia, who adopted me while I was away. Caspian, this is my mother, Queen Rodehesia."

"Delighted," says Caspian, bowing deeply.

"Charmed," replies the Queen, with a curtsy, and waves them both to the table.

"I've just had the most wonderful luncheon sent up--do sit down, Caspian. Amy, dear, would you mind passing the cucumber sandwiches?"

A distinctly nervous-looking man comes up quietly behind the Queen, and speaks softly into her ear.

She starts.

"Goodness, Lane! Do you mean to tell me that there are no cumcumber sandwiches? I ordered them specially!"

"It's all right, Mama," says Amy. "Look, there's water cress, which is similar enough. And perhaps Lane might see to getting a place setting for Caspian."

And while the Queen orders poor Lane to do just that, Amy whispers to her brother, "She's a little on edge, what with the wedding and all."

"It's quite alright," Caspian whispers back, liking the Queen immensely already.

"Everyone gets a bit wild, trying to plan a wedding."

"Especially this one," says Amy. "Since I think everyone is still waiting for Perry to write and say he's heard about my nose and changed his mind. You should have seen the painting they sent him of me. I looked like Pearl with darker hair. Oh, thank you, Lane," she finishes, as he sets the place in front of Caspian.

The Queen remains somewhat distracted throughout the luncheon, speaking on occasion with servants, but there are a few lulls in the tension, and she engages Caspian is perfectly charming conversation, mostly about Amy and the differences and similarities between Narnia and Phantasmorania, and by the end of the luncheon, they are fast friends.

All in all, it's rather a long while before Caspian gives his respects to the King and Queen, and he and Amy are able to make their way out of the hall, and wander a bit together before the day grows too late.

The late afternoon finds them in the Forest, which is carpeted golden with early primroses and full of bright fresh new green leaves. Amy has settled on the ground, and is gathering flowers to take back to her room.

"Well," she says, looking up at him, "does Phantasmorania meet with His Majesty's approval? Onions and all?"

"Very much," he smiles, leaning up against a tree. "And not least for the people who live in it. Thank you, Amy."

Gray eyes smile warmly at her.

"It was good to finally visit your home."

Amy's not-quite-brown-and-not-quite-grey eyes look back at him.

"I'm glad that you could. And you are always welcome, in whatever place I'm calling home."

And then a dazzling smile.

"But I'm very glad you got to see this one."

He sits down beside her, in answer, and she braids him a crown of flowers, most of which are still in place even when Caspian climbs back into Milliways.

They find a place in a clean nook in the stables, carefully set aside with the ledger, a small pink horse, and a jade pendant.

The flowers dry nicely, and last--blue and lavender and green.

And Caspian does his chores whistling a new song.

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Phantasmorania

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