Monday, July 9, 2012

Day Two-Forty-Six: Don't frighten the gentry

The penguin remains. Today's decree: whenever people greet each other in the halls or courtyards of the castle, they must cross swords. This has proven exceptionally difficult for me, as I can't carry a weapon. I strapped a sword to my shirt to get around this, but then my shirt fell off.

Sigh. I want a normal body.

This is going to be a bizarre week, diary, no two ways about it. As you may recall, the castle is caught in the throes of celebration, 'cause the month has been dedicated to the impending wedding of my daughter Eve, Lord Knight, and Logan, the prince of the realm. I have been offered NO part in Eve's wedding, despite being her father, and I was under the impression that I wouldn't even be invited, save as a guard.

That is no longer true. Libby and I have been given spots of honour in the wedding party. I will participate in my daughter's union… despite my reservations about the union in the first place.



I was getting ready for work this morning, Libby shaving the stubble off my face as I dressed, when there was a knock at the door. I received a hearty nick to my neck getting there, and I think I frightened the knocker, 'cause my hands were covered in blood and I was screaming when I opened the door.


The man, a slight, well-dressed attendant of obvious noble stock, screamed back at me. He ran from the house as quickly as his scrawny legs would carry him. I hate not knowing what visitors want, so I tried to staunch my wound with a rag from my pocket as I GAVE CHASE DOWN THE STREET!

I might have been a bit of a jerk for scaring the fellow. Thing is, the nobles of the castle have more or less gone back to being dicks to us common folk, and I figured it was high time one of 'em suffered. Just a bit. He looked like the son of a nobleman, so I quite enjoyed cornering him in an alley and raggedly asking him what he wanted while clutching my bloody rag.

It took a few minutes to coax his purpose out of him, which you can probably surmise was a wedding invitation. Nothing huge, but we're meant to sit with the nobles during the ceremony, not to mention dine with all the royals at the after party. Because we're 'commoners', though, it's assumed we know NOTHING about proper decorum. Hence, it's time for us to learn! We have lessons all week!

I'm of two minds about this arrangement. On the downside, we'll be learning to act like uppity snobs. I'm not down with that, diary. I like my slobiness. It's liberating. Besides, being an aristocrat entails looking down on other people, and I don't enjoy that.

Unless I'm looking down on nobles, o'course. THEY deserve it.

On the upside, though… I get to participate in my daughter's wedding. In a meaningful way. And, hey, if I do well at the wedding, maybe I can get some kinda promotion? We could use the extra money to spruce up the house… and if I beg hard enough, I MIGHT get to take my daughter down the aisle… man, that would be awesome.

Assuming she didn't flip me over her back when I tried to take her arm. Which she would. But I could, at least, walk BESIDE Eve down the aisle. Maybe knock toes with her or somethin'. That's damn near a full-on embrace with someone like Eve.

I agreed to take the lessons. And so did Libby. In absentia. I'm gonna tell her about it tomorrow, and shoehorn it into the revelation of 'Surprise! You have the day off! How exciting!'. Hopefully she sees it the same way… though… I get the feeling… I have earned myself some beats.

If it means watching my daughter get married, diary, I'll take 'em.


Dragomir the Daddy

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