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When the party has died down, Isabella, for one, is well and truly exhausted. She explores the palace until she finds a room with a bed in it, and into this bed she flops, still in her clothes and holding her staff and carrying the cordial in her pocket. She sleeps late, because the party kept her up so late and she hadn't really slept the night before; but around noon, she stirs, and gets up, and goes looking for James and wherever her backpack may have got to. The backpack she finds in the great hall where the principal mass of the party was; some enterprising creature took both bags from the battlefield at Beruna up to the castle for them, and she only wishes she knew who it was. She takes her bag to her room and carries James's with her and continues looking for her friend.
"They are to Daughters of Eve. If I brought you back where I came from and showed you to a bunch of other Daughters of Eve they would all be very excited."
"That sounds like fun!" he says. "Where did you come from?"
"It's a place called Earth. There's humans everywhere and nothing else there talks and there's no magic."
"That's so strange! I can't even imagine it."
"Because of magic?" he guesses.
"That makes sense, since you're a queen of Narnia and you weren't in Narnia."
At twelve thirty lunch is served: there is a large platter of fruit and the main dish is based around roast vegetables nestled in mashed potatoes, with only small sides of meat for those present who eat the stuff. The household of Cair Paravel congregates, and eats, and identify unfamiliar food for Flit, and engage him in conversation about the lifestyle of winged horses. The dwarven housekeeper shows him to a guest room outfitted for unicorns which also has a reasonable amount of balcony - not enough for a running start, but enough to jump off if he can catch himself and cares to try, and enough for a well-stuck landing.
"He forgot your name, earlier," Isabella relates to James. "He was calling you 'Pin' because he'd been talking to you through Starfall's pin."
"Well, that's adorable," she says. "I wonder if being adorable is common among winged horses or if it's just him."
"He's pretty cute! I don't know about the others, but if he gets any particularly cute replies if he talks to the others through my scepter I'll let you know."
The winged horses wish to be formally citizenry of Narnia, and this is arranged without much ado, Flit continuing to serve as go-between. (None of them want to move to Cair Paravel as emergency mounts, but that's all right, there are already griffins around who can be called upon in a genuine crisis.)
The summer goes by. There is an incredible meteor shower one fine July night and Isabella stays up all night taking pictures of it. It becomes spectacularly hot that August and they have to explain to their wardrobe nymph how bathing suits are meant to work (dwarves being just about the only native Narnians with a care for modesty and disinclined as a group towards swimming) so that they can dunk in the sea, which is normally too cold for comfort but is very welcome in the baking summer. It cools off some by Queensday (Isabella turns fourteen) - in time for the honey cider to be served hot - and chills the rest of the way over the rest of the autumn, and winter settles in.
And Christmas comes.
He has a large bag over his shoulder.
Out from the bag comes a large, heavy-looking bundle, which he sets at her feet.
"Isabella, Eve's daughter," he says, turning to her, "here is a bow which will guide you in its use, and some arrows which will return to their quiver when their task is complete." He extracts these items from his bag - bow, quiver - and hands them over. "And here is a cloak which will protect you from physical harms." It is folded into a bundle much smaller than James's bundle.
"Thank you," says Isabella. She takes the weapon - recurved, smooth reddish wood, quiver matching-colored leather with white-fletched arrows, all very stylish - and then shakes out the cloak and tries it on. It's silvery-blue, like a river seen from high above, silken-soft. She buttons it from her chin to her knees and finds armholes under the extra capey layer around her shoulders and then flips up her hood and spins.
Away goes Father Christmas.
"Pretty!" says James admiringly. She has opened up her bundle and then closed it again. "Mine's some kind of armor. I'll wait until morning to try it on."
"Makes sense. I'm just impatient. I hope these things grow with us, we're both getting taller."