Friday, December 2, 2011

Day Ninety: Oh, the ruckus I beheld

Prince Logan is a damn scary little kid, I gotta say.

I woke up this morning, checked you, diary - Libby always tries to peak at what I'm writing, but she can't read so I can say whatever I want - and was about to head out when somebody knocked on our door. (Yep, Libby made us a door while I was gone. Can't wave at anybody passing by anymore. Kinda makes me sad.)

"Hello?" I opened the door, rubbing the gross sleep stuff out of my eyes. (Remind me to clean that up, diary, it's on the ground somewheres.)

Shit. A royal guard. My lungs stopped for half a second.

"Come with me," he said.

The royal guards creep me out these days. They're not like the other guards, or even the knights. They're always completely emotionless, without even an expression on their faces. Not that you can see much of their faces, what with the tiny slits they have in their new helmets, but… were they always like this? Don't THINK so…

You don't really argue with a royal guard, not if you're a normal guard like me, so I followed. We didn't talk, and I couldn't have talked if I wanted to, 'cause my mouth just kept getting' drier and drier as we got closer to… yeah… the king's hall. I thought for SURE that I was in for another stay in the jail.


I was led in front of the king, watched by eleven more of those damn Omega Corps buggers… and The Baron, scowling… and the prince. I felt like such a putz, kneeling on the carpet beside the prince, looking up at his dad on the throne. Please forgive me if you still read this diary, Prince Logan, but I KINDA wanted to throttle the little jerk for getting me in hot water.

In the tense quiet of the hall, the prince told the king exactly what he had in mind.

"I wanna become a knight."

The king cocked an eyebrow, then looked at me. "Isn't this the idiot who screwed up my castle? Why's he still alive?"

"He's gonna be my bodyguard." The prince patted me on the shoulder. I waved.

The Baron stepped forward. "Now, now, Prince Logan, be-"

"Shut your trap, old man!" the prince barked, driving The Baron back to the king's throne in an instant. "Knight. Now. He's my bodyguard. And Eve's gonna teach me."

THAT got the king on his feet. "What?! You can't use my best knight as a common teacher! She has better things to do, you little brat!"

"Don't call me a brat!" To my utter astonishment, the prince pulled a lump of mud out of his pocket and heaved it into the king's face.

The silence… dear gods, the silence… I could feel the guillotine on my neck…

Then the king jumped. He jumped right off his throne and dove for his son, arms out, ready to strangle Logan. The prince dodged and the king got me instead, but once he felt my stubble I guess he realized his mistake and kicked me in the gonads. Down I went, and the fight continued while my vision, uh, faded.

Getting kicked there really hurts, diary. We don't have armour down there. (I should petition for crotch armour. Maybe just a cup? That'd be awesome.)

By the time I'd gotten back into a kneeling position the king had driven his son up onto the sides of his enormous throne. The prince was heaving pebbles at his dad's head. Nobody seemed to know what to do, so we all watched the fight…

... which the prince won. You really can't battle a kid with perfect aim and the evasiveness of a bird. I guess I'm a bodyguard next week while the prince becomes a squire? (Is Eve qualified to be a teacher? She's months old!)


Dragomir the Guard

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