'You could at least let me buff it up for you.'
'No!'
'Well, couldn't I just set fire to the privy—?'
'Absolutely not!'
'That chicken house over there looks as if it would go up like-'
'Sergeant!'
'Sire!'
'Go back to the castle!'
'What, and leave you all alone, sire?'
'This is a matter of extreme delicacy, sergeant. I am sure you are a man of sterling qualities, but there are times when even a king needs to be alone. It concerns a young woman, you understand.'
'Ah. Point taken, sire,'
'Thank you. Help me dismount, please.'
'Sorry about all that, sire. Tactless of me.'
'Don't mention it.'
'If you need any help getting her alight—'
'Please go back to the castle, sergeant.'
'Yes, sire. If you're sure, sire. Thank you, sire.'
'Sergeant?'
'Yes, sire?'
'I shall need someone to take my cap and bells back to the Fools' Guild in Ankh-Morpork now I'm leaving. It seems to me you're the ideal man.'
'Thank you, sire. Much obliged.'
'It's your, ah, burning desire to be of service.'
'Yes, sire?'
'Make sure they put you up in one of the guest rooms.'
'Yes, sire. Thank you, sire.'
There was the sound of a horse trotting away. A few seconds later the latch clonked and the Fool crept in.
It takes considerable courage to enter a witch's kitchen in the dark, but probably no more than it takes to wear a purple shirt with velvet sleeves and scalloped edges. It had this in its favour, though. There were no bells on it.
He had brought a bottle of sparkling wine and a bouquet of flowers, both of which had gone flat during the journey. He laid them on the table, and sat down by the embers of the fire.
He rubbed his eyes. It had been a long day. He wasn't, he felt, a good king, but he'd had a lifetime of working hard at being something he wasn't cut out to be, and he was persevering. As far as he could see, none of his predecessors had tried at all. So much to do, so much to repair, so much to organise . . .
On top of it all there was the problem with the duchess. Somehow he'd felt moved to put her in a decent cell in an airy tower. She was a widow, after all. He felt he ought to be kind to widows. But being kind to the duchess didn't seem to achieve much, she didn't understand it, she thought it was just weakness. He was dreadfully afraid that he might have to have her head cut off.