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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.
When some Isles voyagers have brought cocoa beans to Narnian shores and Isabella has coaxed an encyclopedia from her bookshelf with a loose explanation of how to refine them, there is at long last domestic cornucopia-independent Narnian chocolate. It is popular with several kinds of creatures, including centaurs, dwarves, and monarchs. Some of it doesn't temper right - the local chocolatier is still working on it - but liquid chocolate is still pretty good for some purposes.
For example, the purpose of royalty dipping fruit and cake into it and feeding it to each other. That's a purpose.
"We've been dating for about three years now," remarks Isabella, offering James a strawberry.
"And it is getting increasingly difficult to not kiss you during public affairs. You'd think practice would help."
"You'd think! But it does not." She grins. "So. We've been dating for three years. It seems like it's going well. Want to get engaged?"
"It's a mystery." She offers Isabella a return strawberry. "Never to be solved."
Isabella nibbles the strawberry. It's a small strawberry. She nibbles James's fingers too. "I love you."
James giggles. "I love you too. Let's get engaged, and subsequently married, and charm all the creatures of Narnia with our cuteness."
"They will be so charmed. They will not mutter disconsolately when they have to clean up after their quarrying activities, probably, because we will be so cute at them."
"That's dangerous levels of cuteness, that is. We should be careful how we use our newfound power."
"It's true, we are." Here is a tiny piece of cake. Here it is being dipped in chocolate. Here it is being conveyed to Isabella's mouth.
"So do we announce ourselves, have the herald go around with a proper announcement and a guess at a wedding date, or do we just stop being discreet?"
"We could do both. So the announcement isn't completely out of the blue, but people don't spend too long being confused by unofficial rumours."
"Sounds like a plan. Immediate cessation of discretion and have an announcement go around by the end of the week."
Is it okay if Isabella puts this fondue a little farther away so it does not get knocked over? Isabella thinks it is okay if she does that.