Tell Rupert his little problems. There was an idea. Your brother probably tried to murder me, I accidentally arranged for your sister to be sold into a loveless marriage, I've almost certainly plunged your kingdom into a religious war and there's a good chance I've just killed my best friend. He dredged up a smile. 'That's incredibly kind of you Rupert, truly. But I'm fine.'
The prince beamed. 'I'm so glad you're calling me Rupert. It makes me feel like we're proper friends. You don't mind, do you?'
He stared at Melissande's dotty brother, ambushed by compassion. What a sad man Rupert was. Hardly even a man, really. More a case of tragically arrested development. A figure of idiocy, with his tremulous mouth and his watery eyes, his shrinking posture and his grating laugh. Dressed in that dreadful suit… crowned with a butterfly… and everywhere he turned — Lional. Tall and handsome and mercunally gifted. Poor Rupert, doomed to be a perennial scholarship boy in the university of life. 'No,' he said gently. 'I don't mind at all.'
'Wonderful. That means I can tell you what's bothering me!' His heart sank.'Bothering you?'
Rupert nodded eagerly. 'Yes! You see I'm rather worried about Melissande. She and Lional are very alike you know, Gerald. Both dreadfully stubborn.' 'You don't say?'
'Oh yes. They both take after Father in that respect. Once Father's mind was made up you couldn't have changed it with a block and tackle. And I really do think that the more Lional says "you will marry the sultan", the more Melly will dig her heels in and say "I won't"'. Rupert chewed his lip. 'And to be honest, Gerald, although it hurts me to say so because he is my brother, if Lional doesn't get his own way he can be a trifle… snarky.'
He kept a straight face, just.'Really? That's hard to believe.'
'Well I promise it's true,' said Rupert earnestly.'/ don't think she should marry Zazoor either, no matter what the Kallarapi gods say. Quite frankly, what business they've got making wedding plans for my little sister I'm sure I don't know. And as for Lional agreeing with them… I don't understand it. But he won't explain why. He just shouts and stamps and makes Tavistock look at me with all his teeth.' He shuddered. 'You'll have to speak to him about it, Gerald. He won't make Tavistock look at you with all his teeth.' Oh lord. He rubbed his aching head. 'Rupert…'
'He won't,' Rupert insisted. 'He likes you. He's always liked wizards, ever since he was a boy he's been fascinated by magic and all those terribly secret and peculiar things you chaps get up to. Actually, I think he'd have liked being a wizard himself but he's got next-to-no aptitude. Very put out about that, he was. He made the men from the Department test him 5('.v times.'
'That must have been disappointing,' he murmured.
Rupert bleated. 'Oh, Gerald, you don't know the half of it! Anyway, the first thing Lional did when he took the throne was hire himself a court wizard. Although,' he added, frowning thoughtfully, 'as it turns out Professor Uffitzi wasn't quite what he was after. None of them were. But he thinks the world of you, Gerald. In Lional's eyes you can do no wrong. He already likes you more than he'll ever like me. In fact…' His face lit up. 'Why don't you marry Melly? That way you'll be Lional's brother-in-law, which will more than make up for me.'
Gerald staggered to his feet. 'Marry Melissande? Me? Rupert, are you cracked?'
Rupert got up, one hand over his head to safeguard Esmerelda. 'I expect so,' he said cheerfully. 'But that doesn't make me wrong. I mean I know she's not exactly beautiful, at least not on the outside, and she can be a bit bossy, but really that's just her being organised and goodness if she wasn't organised I don't know what would happen to the rest of us, and then of course there's Boris…' He thought for a moment then sighed. 'No. I can't think of a single nice thing to say about Boris. Still. Nobody's perfect, are they?'
Oh, hell… 'Look,' he said helplessly. 'I'm sorry, Rupert, but I can't marry your sister. I will talk to His Majesty, though, and see if I can't convince him to reconsider her marriage to Zazoor. How about that?'
'Well,' said Rupert, patently disappointed. 'All right. If you think it's worth a try. In fact…' A growing expression of unease spread over his gormless face. 'Why don't you go talk to him right now?'
The unease was contagious. 'Why right now?' he said, suspicious.
This time Rupert's smile was sickly. 'Because I've just remembered why I came looking for you. Lional wants to see you. In his private dining room. Something about lunch and state business.' 'Bloody hell, Rupert! Why didn't you sayV
'I meant to,' Rupert said meekly. 'I got sidetracked. Sorry. Do you remember how to find the dining room?' Idiot, idiot, idiot] 'Yes,' he said, walking rapidly.
Behind him, Rupert cleared his throat. 'And Gerald?' ' WliatT he demanded, over his shoulder. Idiot Rupert was pale and agitated. 'I think I'd run, if I were you.'
CHAPTER NINETEEN
'Half an hourV shouted Lional, sitting bolt upright and radiating fury. 'You've kept me waiting for half an hour, Professor! It simply isn't good enough!'
As a relieved servant closed the private dining room's door behind him, Gerald glanced warily at Tavistock, disapproving beside Lional's ornate chair, and bowed.'So sorry, Your Ma-'
'My instructions were perfectly clear, not even a moron like Rupert could've misunderstood me!' Lional seethed. 'Which means you've kept me waiting on purpose]'
The dining table was set for two and laden with tureens and platters and sauceboats of food. Poached fish. Roast duck. Delicately spiced gravies. Green beans and artichokes swimming in garlic butter. Their combined aromas teased and tantalised. On the sideboard a towering confection of cake, as yet untouched, with cream and chocolate and the seductive scent of coffee liqueur.
Almost deafened by his abruptly rumbling belly, Gerald swallowed the saliva pooling in his mouth. 'Please forgive me, Your Majesty. I intended no deliberate slight or disrespect. I think His Highness had some difficulty finding me.'
Eyes narrowed, lips pinched, Lional drummed his lingers on the table, vibrating the used cutlery on his emptied plate. Then he reached for his wineglass, tossed its blood-red contents down his throat and thrust it forward. 'Well, man, don't just stand there! Pour me another one!'
Hastily he poured Lional more wine from the large crystal carafe on the table. The king half emptied the glass then sat back in his chair, suspicion and anger still not fully allayed. 'So what were you up to, Professor, that Rupert couldn't find you?'
Damn. Of course Lional had to ask. 'Up to? Ah — ' Inspiration struck. A chance for two birds with one stone, no pun intended. 'I was out looking for Reg, Your Majesty'
Lional's eyes narrowed again. 'The bird? Why? Where's it gone?'
Schooling his face to an expression of innocent anxiety he said, 'Actually, Your Majesty, I'm not entirely sure.' 'Not sure?' Lional sat up. 'You mean you've lost it?'
Reg, hexed to the eyeballs and hurtling home. Oh lord, I hope not. 'No, no, Your Majesty. Not lost. Just — '
'Good,' said Lional.'That bird is an integral part of my plans for this kingdom. I would be excessively… disappointed… if you'd been so careless as to misplace it, Gerald.' J bet you would, Lional. 'Yes, Your Majesty.'
Lional didn't look entirely convinced. 'I should warn you, Gerald, that I don't much care for being disappointed.'
Too bad. Because you're long overdue and if I have my way…'I'm sure you don't,Your Majesty.'