Presumption of Guilt in the Land of the Telmarines

We're sitting around the dinner table, having a normal conversation like everyone everywhere about Narnian culture, and I ask Becca a simple question: 

What was the name of Caspian's uncle?

- Darth Vader.
She says.

I come within a centimeter of having a double coronary. 

No! Seriously, you do know...right?

She thinks deeply.
Uhh...King Arthur?

My face fills with purple and fury.
No!! You have just desecrated not one, not two, but THREE distinct universes! 
Who are you!? 
Okay, one more try. Come on.

Face screws up in cerebral pantomime:
Umm...Fenris Fulf?

My eyeballs literally compete with my Adam's apple to see which can stretch out further. When my voice returns as well, I try to speak levelly:

You mean...Fenris ULF. Not FULF. It's ULF. Fenris ULF. 
Captain of the White Witch's secret police. 
And no. Fenris Ulf was NOT Caspian's uncle. 
You fail. 

She gets up from the table. Is gone a couple minutes, then returns. 

Tosses hair back, voice takes professorial tone:

- I remembered who Caspian's uncle was. Miraz. His name was King Miraz. Yeah.

Did you just sneak into our daughter's room and look it up? I asked.

- Why would I do that?
She replied evasively.
I certainly did not go look anything up in The Voyage of the Dawn Treader.

I am disgusted, 
I said. 
For a minute, I thought you had cheated and looked it up. I am disappointed with myself for thinking that of you. Of course you wouldn't do that.

- Of course not, 

She replied, eyes fluttering nervously.

Of course not.

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