The king o leaned heavily against the stone wall, arms crossed over his chest, watching his newest legate with a mixture of amusement and mild pity.
Ratto sat slumped in his high-backed chair, an elbow planted firmly on his knee, his left leg trembling so frantically against the floorboards it looked as though the boy were actively drowning in dry air. Outside the heavy oak doors, the palace courtyard was alive with the bright, crisp sounds of harps and lutes. The court musicians were already doing their busy wares, enthusiastically setting the frantic tune for what the rest of the kingdom believed to be a joyous occasion.
Through the thick timber, the muffled melody of The Swan and the Wolf drifted into the dressing room. It was a pretty, sweeping song about misplaced devotion. It might have done wonders for the atmosphere if the groom didn't look entirely ready to lose his midday meal.
