He shrugged. “You did say tonight was all about you. I’m sure something will come along to help facilitate your desire.”
“Morgan, I swear to the gods if you’ve—”
Shifty wizard was shifty. “Oh look. We’re being called in.”
And we were. The Great Doors opened and horns blared and the throne room fell silent. A thousand pair of eyes rested upon us. I always hated this part.
We walked down the center of the throne room, an embroidered red carpet at our feet. Above, the lanterns glowed brightly, the walls covered in banners red and blue, the colors of the Knights of Verania.
Mom and Dad sat near the front, Tiggy next to them at the end, towering over everyone else. They all grinned at me, and Tiggy said, “I like your trousers,” quite loudly, which of course caused me to blush and almost trip over my own feet as titters rose up around me, along with a few appreciative looks. Luckily, Gary was prancing regally next to me and I dropped a hand to the slope of his neck.
Morgan just rolled his eyes.
I’d done this countless times before. Stood in front of large crowds. I didn’t know why this time was making me feel as awkward as it was. Maybe it was because I had more eyes on me than normal. I tried to think of a way to subtly cover my crotch without bringing attention to it, but came up blank.
The knights entered in next from doors on either side of the throne room. They lined the outer edges of the room, armor shining and bright, shields polished and swords sharpened. I didn’t see Ryan, but I obviously wasn’t even looking for him at all, so it didn’t matter.
“He’ll come in after the King,” Morgan whispered to me.
“I have no idea who you’re talking about,” I whispered back.
“He’s lying,” Gary whispered. “You can tell because he’s sweaty.”
And before I could respond with what I’m sure would have been a devastatingly witty retort (“Your whole body is sweaty!”), the crowd rose to their feet, and the knights snapped to attention as Good King Anthony of Verania and his son, Grand Prince Justin of Verania, were announced.
“He’s not that grand,” I muttered.
“Mediocre at best,” Gary agreed. “His hair is pretty fabulous, though.”
“Yeah, if you like that sort of thing.”
“Most people like hair,” Morgan said. “His is curly and dreamy. Now shut up.”
The King was wearing long flowing robes made of the finest materials with red and blue jewels sewn into the edges. The crown on his head was uniformly gaudy and ridiculous: gold and diamonds and rubies and sapphires. He’d let me hold it once when he’d gotten drunk off of apple wine. It weighed like fourteen pounds. That coupled with the five-foot-long scepter, and he looked like he should own a couple of brothels rather than be a king. He’d laughed so hard when I told him that after I’d gotten drunk on apple wine. It’s not every day someone called him a pimp. And apple wine is deceptively strong.
He saw me waiting next to Morgan and winked at me as he approached the throne. Naturally, not really knowing my place at all, I winked back salaciously. I could appreciate the older man. I had eyes, after all. He was all tall and barrel-chested and rocked a mustache that curled at the ends. Gary and I agreed he was a total KILF.
“Sam,” he said as he stood in front of his people. “Glad you made it back in one piece.”
“Was there ever any doubt, my liege?” I said.
He grinned. “With you? One can never be too sure.”
“You wound me.”
“Nah. I’m pretty sure Morgan will take care of that for me. I thought I heard him muttering about tanning your hide when you finally got back.”
“There will be a suitable punishment,” Morgan agreed.
“I should have stayed in that cave.”
“And Gary,” the King said warmly. “You are like the sun on an otherwise dreary day.”
“Your mustache looks like it would tickle,” Gary said. “It’s gotten longer.”
“And thicker,” the King said.
“I am so grossed out right now,” I said. “I never really got the flirting thing.”