One does not ask a tiger for cuddles, of course, but Lucy had thought sometimes that it must be wonderfully soft and warm—before she stopped herself, because surely that would be terribly disrespectful, and she was a Queen now. It hadn’t ever occurred to her that the tiger might want them.

But when General Bitterfang the Grim, who had fought bravely against the White Witch, heard the news that her son had been slain in combat with the giants, Lucy would never have turned her down when she sought out her Queen for comfort, and the sort of healing that could not come from a cordial.