Chapter 45
"News got to me from your father before your arrival, dear Prince."
The king of that village said smiling. He was royally adorned like every other king. Only that his seemed to be an excess of what you would expect.
Well, twas very much hard to tell if he had done it because of the arriving son of the Duke or was used to it.
"You look very much differently. Do you remember me? It's fifteen years now. You were five when we last met."
The king kept flowing. The surrogate of the prince walked to the seat specially consecrated to him.
The man was fidgeting, he was only there to meet Lailah but had made a mess of it all.
He felt like telling the king about it but couldn't wield the words. Time would test his willingness.
"Bring out the King's special."
The king ordered the attendants. Three of the numerous attendants that were there left.
The man looked around the palace. Twas quite huge. The biggest hall he had seen in a very long while. He wasn't even sure if he had seen anything as such.
The throne was to the far end adjacent to where the man was seated.
The walls of the hall were carton color, few long chairs were set opposite the throne. Definitely, there were chiefs who probably were on there way, or just left there.
There was a tiger straying in the hall. The man was sure the large cat was eyeing him.
Just a moment with the tiger alone in the large would canvass how quickly he'd kick his lovely bucket.
"Entertain me, dear prince. If I should ask, Prince --"
The King tossed his head forward connoting that he had forgotten his name or wanted his name to know.
"Loe."
The man stuttered. That was the only truth he had ever said in that village. His name.
"I'll tell you a story, your highness."
Loe said trying to play his way around the whole thing. Shouldn't be a mill around his neck. Being a prince was just a script. He should be able to interpret the role properly.
"Very well then."
The king said.
The attendants entered with trays of several kinda meals. Loe's throat began to pick its limb to the tune of the aroma.
He couldn't help the concentration. He watched the fellows put all the meals on the dinning table.
"Let's talk over the meals."
The king urged him. He wanted to feign reluctance but that wasn't really good on him.
He occasionally would eye the tiger and vice versa.
The tiger seemed to know that he was a surrogate.
One of the things he was glad of was the fact that animals couldn't speak. And their advances to strangers could be misinterpreted.
They got to the large table. There were ten dinning chairs made from oak and decked with skins of cheetah around it.
Twas quite princely enough. He would only eat, play along and flee.
Twas easy being a thought, but he hoped that he would be strong enough to act it.
The King was seated on the first chair. The chairs were arranged around the table such that, four were by the right side, four by left, one at the North, one at the South.
He was seated by the right such that he was facing the door and could hold the straying tiger in his gaze.
Not only was he pressurized by impersonating. It'd had been great if that was all. But the physical pressure huffed and puffed by the tiger almost ended him.
"How interesting the view is, my highness."
A rather croaky but rich voice came from the door. There came in alongside two other a expensively dressed middle aged man with a scepter in his hand.
The three men walked towards the table as the tiger walked up to them and began to rub its jaw on the thigh of the man who'd spoken.
"Join in please. Quite the muse that inspired your arrival."
The king said and watched the three split themselves into the chairs.
One beside Loe while the remaining two sat opposite. Quite a balanced order if twas really important.
"I'm sure you're the Duke's son. I'm very honored to see you."
The same man said while the other two only nodded their heads.
"I'm glad to be here too."
Loe tried as much as possible to play along. Even if he had never being a prince, ideas wouldn't elude him.
"I just asked prince Loe to entertain me, and thoughtfully, he promised to tell a tale before your arrival."
The king continued. Each man was beginning to help himself to the various delicacies.
"Loe? That's some strange name. Never heard any one from that region with that name. Plus I thought I've heard his name sometimes ago. Not same with this."
The same man with the croaky voice argued. He looked at the fellows who came with him for approval.
Before Loe could defend himself, one of the other two men had hopped on the discourse,
"You can't possibly be saying that the prince forgot his name."
The third guy laughed lightly and complemented what the previous had said,
"That probably might be his other name. There are surely people beyond these walls who definitely have their culture."
The king looked around for a while then said,
"Why are you all addressing this as though the person in question isn't seated. Let him speak for himself, ay."
"Thanks, his highness."
Loe said looking at the chest of the royal robe he was putting on.
He was searching for any contradictory clue on the cloth. There was none, he sighed and continued before he'd draw attention to himself.
"I have several names. One given by my father and the other often used by my mother. The mother's choice is Loe."
Loe stopped talking. He felt light and smart, but the look on the face of the man with croaky voice was betraying.
As you would expect, the man hurled,
"But the queen, Dratumi Lisa, according to history, is dead."
"Yes, she is. Couldn't she had given me a name before her death?"
Loe tackled. He was feeling very hot. He couldn't take the wave of the odds anymore.
He felt like he would crumble under the weight of the pressure. Twas alarming.
"Could you excuse me for a moment? I'd love to use the toilet."
He said, standing up.
"Choi, attend to the prince."
The king called to an attendant. Then he turned to Loe,
"Be back quickly, prince Loe. You should meet my daughter. And for the tale too. She love them tough."
He said amidst chuckle. Loe feigned a smile and followed the attendant.
He needed to clear his head firstly, then flee.
