a speech?” Tedros asked, finally tired of looking at himself. He plopped on a sooty armchair next to the bed.
His mother frowned. “You said you knew what happened at a coronation.”
“That you didn’t need a ‘lecture’ from us,” sniped Lancelot.
“Well, is there something special about the speech I should know about?” Tedros said impatiently.
“There is no speech, you twit,” Lancelot retorted.
Tedros blinked. “Then when do I introduce you two as part of my royal court?”
His mother and Lancelot exchanged looks. “Um, Teddy, I don’t think that’s a good move—”
“It’s the right move and the right move is the Good move,” said Tedros. “It’s been years since what happened between you two and Dad. I’m sure the people have moved on.”
Lancelot drew a breath. “Tedros, it’s not that simple. You’re not thinking about all the—”
“If we live in fear, we’ll never get anything done,” said Tedros, cutting him off. “I’ll tell this Gremlaine woman to seat you on the stage next to me.”
“I’m sure that will go over well,” his mother said cryptically.
Lancelot gave her another curious look, but Guinevere didn’t elaborate.
Tedros let the point go. From his one interaction with Lady Gremlaine, he was confident his new steward would abide by his wishes.
“So if there’s no speech, then what is there?” he asked, reclining against the chair.
“The chaplain will swear you in and make you repeat your vows in front of the kingdom,” his mother said. “Then you have to complete a ceremonial test.”
Tedros’ eyes widened. “Like those written tests we had in Good Deeds class?”
“You really are clueless,” Lancelot grouched. “It’s a test of your father’s choosing, written in his will and revealed at the coronation.”
“Pfft, Dad told me about that. That’s not a ‘test,’” Tedros scoffed. “It’s a token gesture. Said he’d never pick something I couldn’t do. That he’d pick something to make me look as strong and commanding before my people as possible.”
“Make you look strong and commanding? That’s a test in itself,” Lancelot murmured.
Guinevere glared at him and moved next to her son.
“So I have to perform the test Dad left for me?” said Tedros. “And then … I’m king.”
“Then you’re king,” his mother smiled, ruffling his hair.
Tedros smiled back, his heart light as a cloud (even though he’d have to comb his hair again).
“But first there’s dancing monkeys,” said Lancelot.
“Oh hush,” said Guinevere, chortling.
Tedros glanced between them. “Very funny.”
His mother was still laughing.
“Very funny,” Tedros repeated.
“Presenting the Mahaba Monkeys of Malabar Hills!” the courtier shouted.
A cannon blew confetti on the crowd and the people cheered, at least 50,000 of them, packed onto the hills beneath the castle. Per tradition, the drawbridge had been lowered, inviting citizens of Camelot onto royal grounds. They’d been crossing over since the morning to witness the coronation of King Arthur’s son and yet there were still thousands who wouldn’t fit, leaving them stranded on the drawbridge or below the cliffs, peering up at the castle balcony and the beautiful stone stage built for the occasion.
Sitting onstage, however, Tedros knew full well it wasn’t stone. It was cheap, rickety wood, masked with paint that made it look like stone and it creaked hideously under the weight of his father’s throne. Even worse, hot wax dripped onto his sweltering robes from wobbly candelabras they’d nicked from the castle chapel to save on ceremonial torches. Still, he’d kept his mouth shut: Camelot was broke and splurging on a coronation would be irresponsible. But now, watching hapless performers from neighboring realms, he was beginning to lose patience. First there was a fire-eater from Jaunt Jolie who accidentally set her dress aflame; then a tone-deaf chanteuse from Foxwood who forgot the lyrics to “God Save the King”; then two portly young brothers from Avonlea who fell off a flying trapeze into the crowd …
And now apes.
“If they weren’t trying so hard, I’d think they were mocking me,” Tedros grumbled, itching under his robes.
“I’m afraid the more skilled acts were out of budget,” Lady Gremlaine said from her seat beside him, sipping at a goblet of sparkling water. “We did pay for the monkeys, however. They were your father’s favorite.”
Tedros peered downstage at the six monkeys in red sequined fedoras, scratching their privates and wagging their bums out of synch.
“Was this before or after he started drinking,” Tedros said.
Lady Gremlaine didn’t laugh.
Agatha would have, he thought peevishly. Not only that, but for a woman who’d been determined to spend time with him, Lady Gremlaine didn’t seem to like him much.
When they first met last night, he’d assumed she thought him handsome and charming and would do anything he asked. But now that they were seated together, she kept throwing him skeptical looks any time he spoke as if he had the brain of an oyster. It was undermining his confidence right when he needed it most.
“I don’t understand why Agatha can’t sit here with me,” he said, squinting at the royal gallery below on the lawn where she was just a shadow, cooped up with the dukes, counts, and other titled nobles. “Or my mother for that matter.”
Lady Gremlaine straightened her turban. “Agatha is not your queen yet. After you’re married, she can join you at official events. As for your mother, given her and Lancelot’s ignominious flight from the castle, I thought it best to keep them out of sight and withhold news of their return until a more appropriate time.”
Tedros followed her eyes to a white scrim curtaining off the balcony behind them. Through the scrim, he could see his mother and Lancelot watching the ceremony with a few maids and kitchen boys.
“It’s a wonder news hasn’t leaked,” Lady Gremlaine added. “Lancelot made a spectacle throwing those advisors into the castle jail last night.”
“Who cares if it had leaked?” Tedros countered. “The sooner we tell the people my mother and Lance have returned the better.”
“Once you are crowned king, you can make your own decisions.”
“It’s just stupid having my own mother confined like a leper while I sit here with you,” Tedros badgered, glancing up at a cloud blocking the sun. “As if you’re my queen or something.”
