She isn't, a princess, and the point is all but hardly worth belaboring.
Because she isn't and the both know it, but in the end that detail doesn't matter was much as the fact it did end. That it is over. That Caspian is back to being tall, fair, and blonde, instead of small, green and panicked. The whole thing awkwardly passed, and making really only about as much sense as any other strange magical outbreak here.
The kind of things to just nod about, so it can be over, and she can shake her head, at the sheer regularity of the oddness of this place while she drinks her -- well, anything but tea for a few days hence. Hot chocolate? Mulled wine? Water, even. Something else. Until the place seemed quiet, the possibility passed, and events of it didn't crop into more Security Reports.
Especially when Marian is giving a speculatively uncertain, curiosity touched, look toward Kate at the commentary on herself. Which is not so much a conversation she can say comes up frequently anywhere near her world. Maybe if she hadn't boycotted sitting rooms, and girl's with fripperies for brains, as much as they forgot her.
She does not argue that, maybe, Kate's wisdom about knowing Caspian whether it is six years, or four, or two, depending on realms and time frames, does not matter, long. That fact is as untouchable as the sky, and she can't claim to know a single thing about Royalty Frog Curses, but she is rather to the point on other things.
"You're infamous for kissing someone the wrong way?" Marian's expression right now twisting pointedly, if maybe even a touch awkwardly, suspicious. Forgive her the fact it does at least give her something else to make a face at that is not the feeling like polite, classicist, decorum just built its own castle between her and Caspian. Thanks, Kate.
She might actually have chosen shooting someone over that. Thing have been quiet touchy enough with all his losses.
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Because she isn't and the both know it, but in the end that detail doesn't matter was much as the fact it did end. That it is over. That Caspian is back to being tall, fair, and blonde, instead of small, green and panicked. The whole thing awkwardly passed, and making really only about as much sense as any other strange magical outbreak here.
The kind of things to just nod about, so it can be over, and she can shake her head, at the sheer regularity of the oddness of this place while she drinks her -- well, anything but tea for a few days hence. Hot chocolate? Mulled wine? Water, even. Something else. Until the place seemed quiet, the possibility passed, and events of it didn't crop into more Security Reports.
Especially when Marian is giving a speculatively uncertain, curiosity touched, look toward Kate at the commentary on herself. Which is not so much a conversation she can say comes up frequently anywhere near her world. Maybe if she hadn't boycotted sitting rooms, and girl's with fripperies for brains, as much as they forgot her.
She does not argue that, maybe, Kate's wisdom about knowing Caspian whether it is six years, or four, or two, depending on realms and time frames, does not matter, long. That fact is as untouchable as the sky, and she can't claim to know a single thing about Royalty Frog Curses, but she is rather to the point on other things.
"You're infamous for kissing someone the wrong way?" Marian's expression right now twisting pointedly, if maybe even a touch awkwardly, suspicious. Forgive her the fact it does at least give her something else to make a face at that is not the feeling like polite, classicist, decorum just built its own castle between her and Caspian. Thanks, Kate.
She might actually have chosen shooting someone over that. Thing have been quiet touchy enough with all his losses.