The initial reception was over, thank goodness, and while there were a few who lingered (and absolutely no one left before the King) the two males of the royal family went each to his own quarters for a bit of respite from the formalities and to prepare for the feast - and what was to follow.  As for the Queen, they presumed she had gone to her own rooms, having no reason to suspect otherwise, but they wouldn't know for sure.<br/><br/>---<br/><br/><span class="bbc_size" style="font-size: 8pt;"><strong>The King </strong> </span><br/><br/>In recent years the King had begun to gain a few unsightly pounds and was getting more easily winded.  Age, lack of a war to keep him busy, and a rich diet were all contributing factors.  None of this affected his ability to rule - not to any great measure - but he also had a pretty young wife to keep satisfied, and in this arena he began to experience ...<em>challenges</em>.  The king was a large man even before his health started to deteriorate.  No longer could he support himself when on top of her for an extended period of time, and she didn't care to be crushed under his weight.  Taking so long to orgasm wasn't a sign of his stamina, but of his inability to get the job done.  So when they were both feeling amorous, the queen was required to mount him while he remained on his back.  And despite her great beauty, for some reason he sometimes wouldn't remain erect long enough to complete the act.<br/><br/><br/>Physicians were consulted (after being sworn to secrecy of course - for the a king had an image to protect) and a variety of cures were introduced.  A few of them were based on cures dating back to antiquity -- alligator eggs and rams testicles -- while others were on the cutting edge of modern medical practice, such as ground rhinoceros horn and various herbal combinations.  The king had tried them all, to varying degrees of success.  Much to his frustration, a remedy that worked one time might not work the next.  Obviously, the key to making a particular remedy work was to combine modern medicine with astrology -- determining the best medicine to use at a particular time on the position of the stars.  So now the physicians consulted were well versed in the study of the heavens themselves.  A few priests might take exception if they knew, which is why no physician-priest was consulted.  It was on this night, just before the King escorted the Queen to the banquet hall, that one of his doctors prepared him for what would undoubtedly be a night of passion.<em>Interaction with envoys from the land of her family had put the Queen in a decidedly good mood, and the King wanted to capitalize on it.</em>Pleasuring the queen was not only his husbandry duty, it was something he still enjoyed when opportunity and ability coincided.<br/><br/>"Remember, Your Highness" the physician said as he applied a light coating of olive oil mixed with ground mint and rhinosauras horn to the king's scrotum, "One glass of wine increases a man's prowess, the second glass negates the first, and the third glass puts it to sleep."  He handed the king an envelope of dried powders.  "Add this to your wine at the banquet, and do not expect your queen to allow your highness any rest tonight.  Of course the king knew that he was more robust than any man in the kingdom and could drink anyone under the table, so the physician's advice regarding limiting his wine intake would go unheeded.<br/><br/>=====<br/><br/><span class="bbc_size" style="font-size: 8pt;"><strong>The Prince</strong></span><br/><br/>Puzzles were not his forte.  Patience was not high up on the list, either.  Asking for help with a problem he should be able to handle on his own ranked somewhere between the other two.  The prince came very close to just breaking the box open, but he knew better.  Restraint always wins out.<em>A king must know when to show decisiveness, and restraint is sometimes the best thing to decide.</em>It was one of those stupid little maxims Father Ignatius was always quoting to him in that annoying raspy voice from too long in a monastery on some high mountain.  But Gilberto knew the philosophy was sound.  This time.  The box was valuable.  What was inside the box could be fragile.  The gift could be integrated into the box somehow.  Also, to break the box would be to admit the lock defeated him.  God damn that Count Von Holstein!  Gilberto hated him.<em>He fantasized about fighting a duel with him, and humiliating the Count at the tip of his sword, while Katelyn watched.  She had made her decision.  She was a Queen, of noble heart and character.  Despite the fact a duel was not the place for a lady of her stature, she had come to show support for her Prince over this messenger boy from her homeland.</em><br/><br/>That's it!<em>Messenger boy</em>.  That's all he was, and he would make sure the Queen knew it.  That would be his reason for not opening the box yet.  If asked, he would respond that he presumed it was a gift from the Count, and therefore it could wait until the Prince, in his royal prerogative, decided he had nothing better to do than open it.  If Von Holstein then told him it was a gift from someone who was the prince's equal (as if the Reickmar could produce royalty equal to that of the civilized world - ha!) then he would proffer some elegant apology and promise to give the gift the attention it was due after the banquet.  That would put the barbarian messenger boy in his place!  AND it would happen in front of the nobles he was soon to rule, and in front of the Queen he loved.<br/><br/>Barbarians.  The only thing good to come from the Reikmar region had been his mother and her kinswoman, Katelyn.  Gilberto easily convinced himself that both conceptions were the result of their mothers being taken by romanish warriors, probably noblemen from Miragliano itself.  He had gone so far as to determine that both his mother and Kaitlyn had been conceived during times that were marked by almost constant warfare between the civilized principalities of the world and the barbarians.  Enough was known of animal husbandry and that it could apply to humans to know that Miragliano stock would not suffer from selective breeding with some of the hearty barbarian races, just as horses might be bred to possess a desirable combination of attributes - size with speed, or speed with stamina.  The key word was<em>selective</em>, and Gilberto had made his selection.  He just hadn't told anyone about it yet.<br/><br/>The child resulting from the union of him with Katelyn would be destined to rule the world, and Gilberto would first make that world a wedding gift for his bride.<br/><br/>"Aldo" he called out.  Aldo was the best swordsman in his regiment, and therefore in the kingdom.  As such, he became unofficial bodyguard, fencing instructor, and sounding board to the Prince.  He also, on occasion, was called to become the prince's lackey.  "Aldo" he repeated in a quiet, contemplative voice as he examined himself in a crude mirror.  "Do you think you can find a way to add some ... hmmmm ... some sort of adornment to my uniform?"<br/><br/>Aldo knew his master felt the Count had bested him in the uniform department, but from his vantage point behind the prince, was unaware of the unspoken conversations going on between the prince, the queen, and the count.  "Perhaps a gold sash, your highness, and ... no, no, a scarlet sash! with a badge from each order of chivalry" to which he, the prince, would automatically be a member of the highest class.  "For the banquet, I presume?  I'll get started right away, your highness."  Aldo knew what the uniform needed was a complete redesign, but hopefully this would suffice for now.<br/><br/>"And see if you can get this stupid lock open" the prince shouted to him as Aldo rushed off to lay his hands on a red sash.<br/><br/>----<br/><br/>Much too quickly it was time.  Time for the players to take their places.  Just as no one left the reception before the King, no one would arrive at the banquet after the King.  The King waited for one of his wife's attendants to inform his attendant the Queen was ready to be escorted by her husband to the banquet hall.<br/><br/>Protocol was kinder to the Prince, who was allowed to arrive at any point he desired, so long as he was in place before the King's arrival.  In splendid uniform - including a scarlet sash adorned with seven gold badges (representing all five orders of chivalry of his home kingdom, plus two more awarded him as diplomatic gestures from allies), Gilberto stepped into the banquet hall with a bit of fanfare from the minor nobles already assembled.  He was prepared to humiliate the Count - graciously of course - but wanted to make sure Katelyn was present before he did.<br/><br/>He only wished he wasn't so nervous.