As he entered, Christopher wondered, not for the first time, why it was called the ballroom and not the dining room, for he never saw anyone dancing. Most of the nobles who came, after all, were men, and by the time the feasting had ended, most of them were too drunk to dance, so no one ever did. At least, not that he remembered.
“Hello, Father,” Christopher said suddenly, throwing the king off-guard. His voice was dark and chill, and King Richard shivered at its icy sound.
“Hello, Christopher, my favorite son,” King Richard said joyously, likely trying to brighten his mood.
It didn’t work. Never did. They both knew that he was an only child.
“It’s good to see you here so early. Please, come and sit down next to me.” His gaze turned to Adam and Talon, who were standing a fair distance back from Christopher, which was standard for servants and the like. King Richard smiled at them as well. “I hadn’t expected you two to come along, Adam and Talon, but you are most certainly welcome to eat with us. There’s plenty of room.”
Christopher sensed his father’s disgust. Servants had no place sitting as equals at a function for nobles, after all. He shook his head and replied, his tone as bleak as before. “They are my guests, Father. I wanted to invite someone, too, okay?”
The words cut through the air and slashed at the old king like a chilly dagger. The old king was taken aback. “I see. Of course, by all means,” he said slowly, his voice trailing off.
“How are you, Father?” Christopher said then, his tone and expression suddenly light and bubbly.
King Richard’s face brightened instantly, and he looked happy again. As much as they argued, he knew the old man loved him dearly.
“Oh, by the way, Father, there’s something I’ve been meaning to ask all day. How many nobles will we be expecting tonight?”
“Any particular reason, Christopher?” King Richard asked.
“No, Father, just curiosity.”
“Well, let’s see . . .” the king’s eyes rolled back into his head like he was thinking hard on it. “I believe there will be 147 nobles seated with us tonight. Quite a few have decided to turn out for your birthday celebration, I would say. That should make you happy.”
Christopher gave a tired nod.
“There will even be a few young ladies here tonight if I’m not mistaken,” he said, winking at his son.
This made Christopher wince. He was in no mood to go down that line of thinking. Not yet.
“Now, if you will all take your seats, we will be starting soon. The chefs have prepared a fine meal, I’m sure you’ll all enjoy it,” King Richard assured them.
“Yes, of course, Father,” Christopher replied, trying to be as polite as possible.
He sat down on the right-hand side of his father, his usual chair – a mini-throne made entirely of silver. His father said he’d had the chair fashioned especially for him, but he knew better. It had long been the crown prince’s chair, and was at least a thousand years old. Still, his father meant well. His guests motioned to sit next to him, and his father protested, saying that he had promised the spot to so-and-so, but Christopher glared at him and his father let it go.
Now it was time to wait for the guests to appear. The wait seemed to last for eons as Christopher sat in his throne-like chair, pounding his fingers on it impatiently. He knew not even a drop of water or wine would be served until all the guests were seated, and he wished not to wait any longer than he had to.
He glanced over to Adam and Talon, but they were caught up in the moment, staring around at all the decorations. Christopher had forgotten it was their first banquet. Squinting, Christopher thought he saw a noble pass by, but alas, it turned out to be a simple servant.
Oh, if only I could be somewhere else right now instead of here, Christopher thought, trying to take his mind off the waiting by focusing on something else. Perhaps, if I’m really lucky, I could get to be tied under a pendulum. I would have nothing to do but stare at the blade as I watched it inch ever closer to my tortured body. Then it would slice at my bare chest once . . . twice . . . ah! It wouldn’t be so far from how I feel now, but at least there would be a purpose to it.
He grinned and let his mind run with the grim fantasy. The gag covering my mouth would be so tight, I couldn’t even scream to relieve the pain as the blade went deeper and deeper into my body. He snickered a little. Even thinking about actual torture was somehow better than all this waiting. Then, after several hours of intense pain, the pendulum would take its final swing, cleaving my body in two! Ah, now that would be divine, would it not? It would truly be Zenobia on Kallor for me right now.
He glanced over at his companions and saw them agape with wonder. His look turned to one of disgust. I had thought I could at least share the torture with Adam and Talon, but they’re too caught up in the room! How’s that for friendship?
It was about this time when the nobles started to arrive, coming through the door one at a time, evidently too sophisticated to go in at the same time as someone else. As they marched in single-file and took their seats, Christopher relieved some tension by noting how much all of them looked like soldiers.
Isn't that interesting? You would think nobles, being what they are, would be far too snobbish to allow themselves
