Horrified, Gerald stared at Melissande's heaving shoulders. Oh, God, what do I do now? She's royalty and we're in public, I can't cuddle her…
Reg jumped over to the seat beside the weeping princess and poked her in the behind with her beak. There was an eruption of cushions as Melissande wrenched herself upright. 'How dare you? You are the most repulsive creature I've ever met!'
'In that case you need to get out more,' Reg retorted. 'Now just you get a grip on yourself, Madam Watering-Pot. Yours aren't the kind of looks that are improved by blubbering. Besides, this isn't the behaviour I expect from a princess. Or a prime minister. You've got to walk the walk, ducky, not just talk the talk.'
As Melissande gaped, speechless, Gerald fished out a handkerchief from his pocket and handed it to her. 'She means well, you know. And she's right.'
'Really?' said Melissande, snatching the handkerchief and pressing it to her wet face. 'What about? The fact I'm a frump or that I'm a failure?'
Hello, my name is Gerald and I'm between a rock and a hard place… 'You're not a failure,' he said after a difficult pause.
'Yes I am,' she retorted, glowering. 'I never should've let Lional start this stupid game of brinksmanship with Zazoor, I knew it'd end up pear-shaped.' She looked at the soggy handkerchief. 'Do you want this back?'
'Not particularly. Besides, I've got another one somewhere.'
She shoved it up her sleeve and heaved a shuddering sigh. 'I'm sorry, Gerald. I never should have dragged you into this.'
Yes, she was bossy. But she wasn't so bad, really. He shrugged.'It's all right. 1 let myself be dragged.'
'Well, for what it's worth…' She managed a watery smile.'I'm glad.'
'Oh pleaseV cried Reg, and dove headfirst into the cushions.
Melissande stared at her kicking toes. 'She's muttering about arses and tea-kettles. Should we take her to a vet?'
'Doctor, if you don't mind!' snapped Reg, sitting up. 'And no. I'm not the one who needs his head examined!'
A rancorous silence fell.'Look,' said Gerald at last, 'there's no point getting all worked up over what might happen, Melissande. I'll do whatever it takes to keep His Majesty from doing something… regrettable… in the meeting. I promise.'
'Whatever it takes. I hope those aren't famous last words.' She sniffed. 'AH right.Thank you. Now, we'd best get back to the palace. I've got appointments scheduled all afternoon and that's before Lional gives me his daily list of Things I Can't Be Bothered Doing Myself So Just Take Care Of Them For Me, Would You?' 'As you wish, Your Highness.'
Extracting her parasol from beneath the cushions, Melissande turned and poked the driver between his shoulder blades. When he looked round, expression enquiring, she bawled, 'Home, William!'William touched his fingers to the curly brim of his coachman's hat and took a left-hand turn along yet another tree-lined street.
'You know,' Gerald mused, 'when you think about it, the underlying cause of all this kerfuffle is the fact you're totally reliant on Kallarap for getting things in and out of the country. Why not just arrange for some industrial-grade portals and bypass the Kallarapi altogether?'
Melissande slumped against the carriage cushions. 'We can't afford them.The only reason we've got any kind of portal at all is because Pomodoro Uffitzi constructed one for us.'
What? Wliat? He'd travelled halfway across the world in an amateur unsanctioned portal? 'But — but that's illegal]' he protested. 'There's international law governing portal installations. They're supposed to be constructed by a specially certified thaumaturgical company and inspected regularly. If something went wrong someone could — ' She appeared surprised.'Nothing's gone wrong.'
'No, not yet! But if your portal's a do-it-yourself job by some smart-alec nobody wizard then it's only a matter of time!'
'Oh, but — Pomodoro Uffitzi — he wasn't a nobody, he had pages of commendations and awards and references, he wouldn't — '
He could easily have shaken her silly. 'Melissande! Portal installation is a specialist's job.' He stared at her, aghast, but she didn't seem to realise the gravity of the situation. 'Look, I do know what I'm talking about, I used to be a thaumaturgical compliance officer!'
'Well you're not one now,' she snapped, flushed. 'Now you're an honorary New Ottosland citizen. And you can't report us, it'd be treason.'
/ take it back. She's as bad as the king. 'I was an oath-sworn wizard before I was a New Ottoslander, honorary or otherwise, and — '
'So you keep saying,' she said impatiently. 'Fine. I'll hang a great big Out of Order sign on the portal door. Happy now?'
'Oh yes,' he said. 'I can just see your brother paying attention to that.'
Reg broke the crackling silence with a pointed rattling of her tail feathers. 'Yes, well, I suggest we worry about this little hiccup after we've dealt with the Kallarapi. What d'you say?' 'Fine,' muttered Gerald. 'Excellent,' snarled Melissande. 'Oh, please,' groaned Reg.
After that there was nothing more to be said. During the forty-five minute journey back to the palace they clip-clopped over the picturesque Canal Bridge, past the fountain-studded Art Gallery, the Mint, the recently vacated House of Ministers, an Academy for Young Gentlemen, a Seminary for Young Ladies, the Royal Playhouse, the Royal Opera House and down the full length of fashionable King Lional High Street where all the important people bought their necessities, apparently.
Eventually they arrived at the palace's rear entrance. Various servants bustled in and out with messages and packages and a constant stream of tradesmen's wagons trundled further along to the loading bay, where another servant was ticking off their deliveries and arguing about payment. They alighted from the carriage and stood looking at each other.
'Well,' said Melissande. 'That's that, then. You'll come and see me, after the meeting?'
Gerald made sure Reg was secure on his shoulder, and bowed.'Certainly, Your Highness.' 'Good. Excellent.'
She turned on her heel and marched away. He watched her go, frowning. 'I can't believe she let me travel through an unregulated portal. I could've been killed!
' We could've been killed,' Reg pointed out. 'But we weren't, so let's worry about it later. Right now there are far more interesting things to worry about.'
Yes. Like spying for the princess. He swallowed a groan. 'Fancy a walk? I need to air my brain, and those look like gardens over there…'
They were indeed gardens. Beautiful ones, spreading out from the palace in a lake ot colour and perfume. If they were Lional the Forty-Second's legacy, well, royalty had surely done worse. Like now, for instance.
Reg whistled approvingly as they wandered among the flowerbeds. 'Very nice. If more kings stuck to harmless pursuits like weeding and fertilising, the world would be a better place.' 'I say!' cried an excited voice.'I say, ProfessorV
Gerald turned — and there was Prince Rupert, bouncing up and down in the middle of a neighbouring pansy patch. Both hands were filled with plucked blooms.
He smiled and waved. 'Good morning, Your Highness.'
'Rupert,' said the prince. 'Remember? I'm just collecting a few treats for my butterflies. Since you're out and about would you like to come and see them?'
No. I've got better things to do with my time, like panic about this stupid meeting where I'm single-handedly supposed to avert a full-scale international invasion, complete with camels.
Reg leaned close to his ear. 'Say yes,' she muttered. 'He may be a prat but he's a royal prat. Never get on the wrong side of royalty, sunshine. It always ends badly.'