91

You'd grown rather accustomed living a Lurker's life with only infrequent moments of performance; this insistence that you yourself must carry an entire engagement with none on the boards next to you is so changed a set of expectations the reversal is dizzying.

"The King?"

Kitty Harlowe follows your gaze and nods. "Before dinner is his appointed time for Grievances and Disputes," she says, indicating to you the row of stools that lines the outside wall. More than a dozen additional nobles in various states of dudgeon are apparently waiting in line for a moment of the King's attention. While they wait, they stare at the backs of the small cadre of aristocrats who are currently seated at the long tables, amusing themselves with wine, cheese and talk.

"His Majesty's Royal Council, as well as his Generals and the Knights of the Glade…his personal guard."

The esteemed Councilors, Generals, and Knights seem far more interested in each other than in His Majesty. You note that the other two thrones on the dais are empty. "Queen Hero will be in just before dinner is served," Kitty explains. "And the other is for the Heir Apparent, Prinxe Hailey, sometimes called Hail."

"Will the Prinxe also be in attendance tonight?"

She is silent for a moment. "That chair is reserved for Prinxe Hailey," she repeats. There's a story there, you think, your curiosity bubbling up.

You keep your other questions to yourself as Kitty fills you with additional tidbits, scanning the rather gloomy space. This room either needs an expert fool to lighten it up or a tidal wave to simply wash it clean. The trick is, you shan't know which until after you start, and your waterskin is in your other trunk….

Onward