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Date Posted: 18:55:12 02/14/03 Fri
Author: King Saxom
Subject: ...It Begins...

((I'm puttin' 'king' in front of my name cause it's a formal occasion. *grin* Mmmm...i luv funny entrances...))

The green-and-gold suade dressed king enters, with a near bounce in his stride to express his excitement. It was not an unusual sight to watch the three, young men finely clothed in royal servant uniforms trailing the young-yet-aged Saxom. One hasitly trotted after his majesty, trying to comb down a loose fray of hair above his forehead. A second repeatedly dusted the back of his shirt, where a great deal of lint had gathered on the clean material. The third was talking non-stop, gently trying to persuade the king to reconsider his early arrival.

Stopping shortly, Saxom whirls on them with unexpected force, placing a hand on his rough goatee. They freeze. He does not move. They do not move....but slowly, the king continues to back away, dismissing them with a quick wave of the hand. Turning about, he strides quickly into the music-filled hall. By now, he had all but forgotten the crown upon his head. He was justly reminded when a swarm of six noble ladies nearly mauled him over. His ears stung as they began to impale him with a thousand questions at once.

"Ladies..." he begins, his voice drowned out completely by the squabble. He tried again, this time, more firmly. "Ladies."

No one seemed to hear him.

At last, "For goodness sake -- ladies!!"

One of the woman blanches, the other stop mid-fan, string blankly. A single, dying "Oh..." is uttered, and then all are silent.

"My gratitude, fine noblewoman," the king says with a bow. "However I'm afraid I have an important business to attend to. Father-son matters, I believe."

A moment passes, before the paled lady speaks. "We're terribly sorry, your majesty. Please, good fortune with your...imporant business."

"Thank you." Nodding again, more politely this time, the king brushes by, ignoring their flustered whipers. He could swear he heard somehting about 'nasty tempered' but he had no time to care.

He stops, turning about to examine the ballroom in a long vision. Of course, he is pleased with the progress...all he had now, was to await patiently for his beloved Queen and daughter to arrive. On the other hand...

His eyes are snagged on the scene of his only son conversing with one of the 'young ladies' he'd been informed about. A familiar, mischievous grin plays across the lower half of his stubbled face. At last. The king hurries forward, half-mindedly brushing hsi ebony-coloured cape behind him in a gracious sweep.

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