Page 31 of Wickedly Ever After
Rupert’s voice became stern. “It’s for the good of the kingdom! Marrying a commoner is an excellent antidote to magical birth defects and whatnot—no lingering curses by fairies, wicked witches, and so forth. Plus, you don’t have to watch them around sharp objects like spinning wheels because of Hector’s narcolepsy spells. It’s a good deal, son. Plus, it makes the people happy.”
“I’ve never cursed a princess like that,” Hector protested.
“Come off it, Dad. We both know my enchanted marriage isn’t going to make anyone happy—it’s tax breaks, it’s keeping the miners in the Mystic Mountains from unionizing, it’s making sure nobody knows the hurling games are rigged—not Happily-Ever-After! It’s an archaic custom that’s had its day like the witches who came up with the damned magic in the first place.”
Rupert gasped and glanced furtively at Hector. “Archie—”
“Excuse me.” Archie turned his back on them and glided back to the table. The ladies swarmed him like moths to a candle.
Rupert sighed. “I don’t know what I’m going to do with him, Hector. I really don’t.”
Hector’s face was burning. Had its day like the witches who came up with the damned magic…what were royal princes learning these days? Clearly, not history. At least Alistair knew why he had to participate. Archie didn’t seem to have a clue. He cleared his throat. “It’s normal for a man to have—”
“Cold feet, yes. I had them. I had no idea what Annabeth would be like or if that nasty stuff I had to drink would make me love her as much as I do. But this is different.” Rupert flopped into a chair and patted the seat next to him. “Game’s starting.”
Hector sank into the plush seat. The hurling game was now not remotely interesting.
Rupert’s eyes never left his son, eating cake with the tallguard. “Tell me you’ve got a pep talk for this, Hector. I’m at my wit’s end. I kept hoping he’d come around, but he says he isn’t going to go through with it.”
“Not go through with it?” Hector gaped. “But…but it’s his duty!”
“I know, right? It started last year—this foolishness of his. I blame his friends, filling his head with all this progressive nonsense, especially that one.” Rupert jerked his head irritably in the direction of the tall guard, now hovering behind the prince like a buff bodyguard. “Ever since he arrived, Archie’s been moody. He spends hours hanging out with the guards, or in the library reading.” He shuddered. “Not normal at all. At least he’s still into hunting and hawking, or I’d think he’d been enchanted or something. I tried to get him interested in the dragon fight—I told him to go for the wings, that’s where I cut the one that had Annabeth. Even made a big deal out of giving him Excalibur 350 for the battle. Maybe that will put the fervor for being king in his veins—something had better.”
Gods.Hector’s face had to be on fire, it burned so much. “I hope you also told him that it’s illegal to wound the dragon.”
Rupert waved his hand carelessly. “Rules are only rules if people catch you breaking them. Frankly, between you and me, I wish he could kill the monster like in the good old days. Boy needs to grow up—get off his horse and back in the castle where a king belongs. He spends all his time with that Caedan.Heput this foolish notion of what the people want in Archie’s head—taxing the rich, free education for the masses, even a parliament. A parliament of commoners! Can you imagine that?”
A niggling doubt crept into Hector’s mind like an unwelcome spider. “I thought I saw something in the paper—”
Rupert snorted. “Don’t get me started on theStar. That tabloid will say anything to sell their rag. Caedan and Archie are friends, that’s it. Between you and me, I’m sending Caedan on that quest for the Holey Pail with Pin-Dragon and the others tomorrow. That will get him away from Archie. If I’m really lucky, he’ll get himself eaten by a griffin and we’ll have no more of this ‘what the people want’ nonsense. What they need is Happily-Ever-After—at least that’s allweneed to keep them quiet.” Rupert rose as the referee called offsides. “What I want you to do is take him aside and tell him it will be okay, that once it’s done, once the potion sinks in, he won’t care about anything but what’s right for the kingdom. He’ll believe it coming from someone other than me. I hope.”
“He hasn’t had the potion yet? But…the dinner—”
“Annabeth decided to do it here. More festive this way—you know how she feels about all that pomp with no party.” He sauntered over to the table to where his wife and child waited and poured himself a huge flagon of dwarf-brewed beer.
Hector sank deeper into his seat, wishing he had a drink too. First a reluctant dragon, now a rebellious prince. Could this Happily-Ever-After get any worse? Granted, it sounded like Archie had acquired some common sense, at least in regard to what made a kingdom happy, and it almost made Hector feel a bit sorry about the zombie flies he’d come up with to torment Archie in the marshes.
“Gather around, people, gather around!” Rupert boomed, raising his glass. The room didn’t quiet—if anything, it got louder and the tittering of the ladies-in-waiting sounded as shrill as the buzzing of hornets.
“I have a surprise for everyone. In light of the importance ofthis occasion for all the people”—Rupert stared rather pointedly at Archie—”we’ve decided that everyone should get a seat at the Prince’s Dinner. Gentlemen, ladies—I give you the future king of our country, Prince Archibald Quentin Rupert the Second!”
The clapping in the room suddenly became a roar. Hector, baffled, glanced out at the field, where the game had stopped and a giant picture of the prince, looking startled and more than a little embarrassed, appeared in the crystal ball hovering over the field.
Ida sat down beside Hector, pointedly staring at anything but him.
“Your idea?” he said, making no attempt to hide his scorn.
“Hardly,” she said through clenched teeth.
“This was supposed to be done last night.”
“If you’d been there, you’d know why it wasn’t,” she interrupted. “He wasn’t there.”
“What?”
“The crown prince. He wasn’t there. Not feeling well, Annabeth said.”
“You could have—” He stopped in the middle of his sentence as his own face and Ida’s appeared on the crystal to more cheers. Ida smiled and raised her hand as if casting a good luck charm over all the spectators. The crystal panned back to the royal family. Now Rupert was shaking Caedan’s hand and saying something about “exemplary kindness” and “noble values” and how after his quest, he’d be knighted so he could always have a seat beside the prince. The young man didn’t look very happy about it. Probably knew the king was hoping he’d end up in a griffin’s stomach.
