“With Le’ral’s hand, you will be. Trust me,” Aelir gave me a pat on the arm, “oh, and so the ballroom is acceptable?”
I tore my sight from Jaculi. “Yes, it’s very nice. I like the blue and silver motif, but I feel we should discuss everything a bit more as I—”
“Excellent! We’ll have the ball to welcome you to the family in a fortnight. That should give Le’ral and you time to learn the basics of dances, the proper dining routines, and the gifts of small talk among the court.”
A large drop of rain hit me on the head as the king sailed off to attend to kingly things such as balls and ravens and pushing pirates into silken slippers.
“Well, this is an interesting development,” Le’ral said as the skies opened up.
The ship rocked side to side, waves as large as castles washing over the rails, sweeping those who served my father over the sides, never to be heard from again. Lashed to the mainsail, I was unable to help, struggling against the powerful limbs, screaming at the undead creature that piloted the Cloud’s Shame to no avail.
Papa didn’t hear me, for he was dead. Tears streamed down my cheeks, washed away instantly by saltwater.
“Papa! Papa!” I bellowed, the tentacles wound about me, cinching harder, cutting off my air, as the bloated corpse of my sire whistled a song well known to my young ears.
“Hoist the sails and let winds decree,
No chain on land can anchor me,
Through blackest squalls and mutiny,
My faith lies with the sea!”
He bellowed the lyrics out so loudly that the winds of the tempest we sailed through carried them to me, blowing them around and around my head.
Papa winked at me right before his rotted nose fell from his face to land at his boots.
“Papa! Papa! Papa!!”
“My Lord, wake up.”
I jolted awake, nearly ready to leap to my feet to avoid the desiccated nose lying by my small bare foot, when I saw who stood over me. Le’ral and Ambassador Nouradi, both quiteconcerned. I wiped at my sleepy eyes and took in the room. Right, yes, a formal dining room with a table set for a meal. Servants in the corners stared at me with wide, frightened eyes as they waited to begin serving. A light lunch. Yes. It all came back to me. Lesson eight in the course of two suns. This one dealing with accepted meal etiquette and what was considered proper for a luncheon discussion.
“Sorry. I…I dozed off.” I sat up, pleased to see my face had come to rest on a clean plate. Fukkate. “I’ve not slept well the past two nights. Too many caramel pastry bites before bed,” I added with a lopsided smile to lighten the mood. My two tutors exchanged looks and sat back down, one on each side of me. Lightning flashed, thunder rolled, and the rain came down in bucketfuls. A typhoon had blown into Celear from out of nowhere the day Aelir had shown me the ballroom where a ball to welcome the new prince was to be held. The winds were fierce, snapping flagpoles and tumbling small boats around like toys. It showed no signs of lessening. Rumors of a blighted sea were reaching the ears of my first mate, who passed that onto me. “Please continue.”
“Perhaps you should consider a sleeping draught before bed,” Mahouk Nouradi suggested, settling back into his chair. “My son is a very skilled cleric. I can request a small bottle for your use. Surely all of this change in your life has lingered in your dreams.”
“Thank you, but a few shots of rum will do me just as well as any draught,” I said, righting the napkin on my lap. I would not think about that nose, or my dead father, or the gargantuan tentacles that held me to that mast. “So, we were going over the proper way to eat soup.”
Le’ral nodded at the servants. “As we’ve covered already, if the royal family is dining, all members of King Aelir’s family will enter the dining room first. In terms of import: the king,the queen, his consorts, and the twins, if they are in attendance. Generally the children are not. They eat in the nursery, but after they reach their majority, they will enter before you. As the king’s half-brother, you shall enter after the fully blooded royals.”
I yawned, nodded, and did my best to pay attention. It was all just blither-blather to me, no matter who was passing these asinine rules of conduct along. Yes, I was a noble now. The tests were positive, which no one found to be a surprise. I was the son of Lady Stillcloud and some unwashed human whose name was of no import. That rankled. Yes, my father was many things, but to be told to throw off the Cadere name for the Stillcloud moniker sat crossways. As did these lessons in comportment. My brother was aflutter over having an older sibling. And while I was happy to have him at my side, now I was beginning to realize that my life was never going to be the same as it had been. All due to that ginger root outrider. Someday I would run into him and flick his nose for finding me out.
“…true order of precedence most generally takes place in state or diplomatic events but knowing the formal rules will help you to avoid any mishaps,” Le’ral stated. The mahouk nodded, the little charms dangling from his ear tinkling. His cat slept in front of the fireplace. “Unless it is a wedding, then the monarch and his family are expected to arrive fashionably late, to ensure all gathered will see the king and pay proper respect.”
“Of course, bowing and scraping is very important,” I mumbled as a jittery young man placed a bowl of creamed green mushroom soup before me and then faded away. The two men trying to force as much of this bullshite into my brain sighed in unison. “Sorry, I’m out of sorts. Please go on.”
“In a light luncheon, there will be only four courses instead of the eight to ten served during a formal affair. Soup, entrée, dessert, and rich coffee or red teas. During the meal,conversation must be kept light as is expected during a day meal. Topics of discussion that are appropriate are varied but most may center on the weather, hobbies, books, musicals or plays, favored foods, the décor of the dining hall, or any current trends in court fashion.”
“Someone drown me now.” I sighed out loud. One of the servants in the far corner choked back a snigger.
“My Lord,” Mahouk slipped in with a kindness that I appreciated. These lessons were taxing for me, and for Le’ral. We were both uncomfortable with this forced proximity. Even after a magnificent night of rutting, I found I wanted to taste him again. That, along with the mountain of upheaval being hoisted from a simple unlawful existence to be tossed arse over cups into being a cockered noble, kept me off balance. I winced at the royal terminology everyone around me now used. Save for Hyla and Prescott. To them, I was still Coelum Cadere. That was a treasure, to be sure. “We know these things seem trivial, and in all honesty, they are mundane to the extreme. But they are crucial to know if you do not wish to make the upcoming transition even more difficult for King Aelir.”
Yes, I knew that. I was being a brat. “Of course. He’s going to great lengths to bring me into the fold of the nobles, but must I discuss court fashion? Do they not wear toad toes on their ears?”
Le’ral let loose a small sound of amusement. The only one I had heard from him since we’d been thrust together. Funny how that little snicker lifted my spirits.
“That was last season’s craze. This season, it has been the application of swan dander into the powders worn on one’s skin to create an effect that one is as white and fair as a swan,” Le’ral explained with as much grace as he could.
