32w
QUESTS FOR GLORY
“The wedding is planned entirely by the future queen,” Lady Gremlaine said, her face a cold mask. “I hope she is capable.” “That’s a bet I’m willing to take,” said Tedros defiantly, trying not to frown. Agatha: the wedding planner? Hadn’t she dressed as a bride for Halloween? If it were up to her, they’d marry at midnight in a boneyard, with that satanic cat presiding. . . . She’ll be fine, he thought. Agatha always found a way. She’d no doubt share his opinion of Lady Gremlaine and his determination to prove her wrong. Plus, once Agatha saw how he handled his coronation, with royal decorum and integrity, she’d follow his example for the wedding. Soon Lady Grimface would be eating her words. A long while later, after the monkeys had been soothed with a vat of banana pudding and dragged from the stage, Tedros took his place before Camelot’s chaplain, perilously old, with a bright red nose and wiry hair growing out of his ears. The chaplain put his hand on Tedros’ back and guided him to the front of the stage, overlooking the teeming hills. On cue, the sun broke out from behind the cloud, spilling onto the young prince. An awed hush fell over the crowd. Tedros could see the legions gazing up at him with wideeyed hope: the boy who vanquished the School Master . . . the boy who saved the Ever kingdoms . . . the boy who would make Camelot great again. “I’m king of all these people?” Tedros rasped, the weight of
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7/14/17 10:47 AM