Page 77 of The Thrice-Bound Fool

Though I was being dragged to meet a king, I cast my gaze behind me toward this curious fish, and I wished I could spend more time with it.

I waved again as I was pulled.

But now the sun was bright on its glass, and if it waved back, I couldn’t see.

25A King and His Pets

As we got to the orange shade-cloth under which his nine-foot majesty held court out of doors, the royal personage was just settling his haunches into his garden-seat. One hand gripped the armrest, and the other secured his crown to the great drape of false bangs that covered his forehead down to his eyes. His valet helped him sort his garments, smoothed the wig, then retired to stand with a half dozen or so other caretakers, including Drab, a wine steward, the king’s secretary, a message-runner, a translator, and a woman whose job seemed to be swishing flies away from important persons with a long-handled fan.

Queen Neffa stood near the king. The first thing you noticed about Her Majesty was the length of her neck. She must have been proud of this trait, for she wore a necklace of huge pearls, and that in itself was significant; I had suspected that in this place of scarce water and so far from the seas under sky, there was nothing so valuable as a pearl. And so it was. And here was one woman casually wearing a dozen of such large examples, both black and white, that you’d have to guess they’d be the ransom of a town. To look more closely, you’d see that smaller pearls had been sewn into her dress from top to bottom.

The king now said something to his daughter in Erydon, to which she turned up her nose. He repeated his entreaty, which was echoed by Drab, but the princess said, “We only speak Arvisk now.”

The king’s secretary, a scrawny seven-footer in a half cloak of black feathers and a long coat of dark blue sewn with bits of coral, now said, “Surely Your Highness does not expect your father, the king of all the Erydoni, to sully his mouth by speaking the language of slaves.”

“He knows it,” she said. “We know he knows it.”

“Of course he knows it. He knows many things, as a king should. It is a question of royal dignity; a question which, if I may be so bold, you yourself should consider.”

“And you, are you being good?”

“Good, Highness?”

“As secretary. The royal secretary is a … dip. Diplomack.”

“Diplomat, Highness. Yes.”

“Well, it does not seem very good of a diplomack to be mean to a visiting princess. Perhaps the king should tickle your feet with iron.”

Agraias smiled through all this. His daughter’s precociousness was a subject of endless pride and fascination for the geezer. As is often the case with spoiled children, the girl’s intelligence blinded her father to her cruelty. Of course, I also doubt the girl pulled foot-torture out of clear air. If she was a monster, she was made one here.

The secretary continued sparring with her, passing over the unfunny jape about his getting his feet tonged or pincered.

“Are you only visiting us, Highness? For how long shall we have the pleasure of your company?”

“For as long as it is pleasant. We do not find it pleasant to hear bad things said about our language.”

“Your language? Since when is Arvisk the language of an Erydoni princess?”

“There is your mistake, Secretary Manes. We are an elf princess, come from long ago and far away. And this is our prince,” she said, yanking me forward. I let the force of her pull carry me forward into a roll. Of course I lost my jingly hat when this happened, and made quite a show of trying to pick it up and dropping it again several times before securing it to my head backward. Then, after a beat, going into a graceful, princely bow. Renata screamed with laughter, and the king chuckled, causing those around him to do the same.

“Well,” boomed the king in the tongue of Galts, slaves, and elves, “how could I refuse to honor the embassy of a princess who crossed time and the great Western Dry to visit us? Bringing with her such an amusing prince. But we are sad not to see Hasp here. Is he no longer your prince, then?”

Now the princess frowned.

“How can he be our prince when he would rather have a prince of his own?” she said, and the king laughed well at this, aped by the rest.

“I suppose he rather would,” Agraias said.

“Anyway, he shall die soon.”

Well, that fucking killed the room.

“And I must have a young and healthy prince, for I am young and healthy,” she said, dropping the royal we to point at herself.

The king leaned forward, pointing at his own broad chest now, saying, “We are hopeful that Hasp may recover.”

“No you’re not. Or you would not have bought a new fool to learn his tricks and take his place.”