A Fool's Bucket - Ch. 9.1

With an agitated deep breath, Buck smoothed back his hair and kept walking along the palace's south wing main corridor. Every few steps some new preparation task popped into his head and he had to stop to write it down before it fled again. At Pires's court, the sessions just sort of happened. He'd never been involved in admin before. He stopped to relight a sconce where the torch had gone out, and focused his mind on the smoky scent drifting down to him to try and organise his thoughts.

The truth was, there was one rather large thought shoving all the rest out the way, which was why he had to keep writing things down on an increasingly saturated piece of parchment. Erson would be back in the royal valley in a matter of hours, and Buck still hadn't warned Myal that he would utterly despise the filth that came out Loilyn's mouth. To be fair, he thought, as he leaned against the wall and tried to calm his breathing, she still hasn't admitted to you that she's just trying to impress him.

There was a voice in a room a few metres further down the hall, which there shouldn't have been. Myal had sent him to herd everyone into the great hall earlier, and he'd already covered this segment of corridor on his last round. With a groan, he dragged himself up into a proper standing position and jogged along to knock on the door.

He froze with his knuckles raised in the air. The door was open, which was clearly an oversight. Because inside the room, both sitting on a long brown desk, were Raddig and Erson. Raddig was facing broadly in the direction of the door, but his eyes were trained on Erson, who had just put his own hand on Raddig's cheek, moving some hair out of the way.

"Uh," Buck said, before he could think of what to follow that with. He cleared his throat. "Sorry, um, don't mind me. I just - Myal would like this area cleared. Apologies, Raddig."

Buck stepped back from the door and hoped Erson wasn't aware he'd been spotted. The last thing Buck needed was Erson examining him up close as he swore him to secrecy - there was only so much growing a fringe could do to hide your eyes in the space of a week and a half. But before he could get properly away, Raddig burst up from the desk, grabbed something from just in front of Erson, and stormed up to Buck.

"You don't mention a word of this, right?" Raddig snarled, his face so far up in Buck's that Buck reckoned he was safe from Erson recognising him - he probably couldn't even see him.

"Of course," Buck said, taking a further step back, right out into the corridor. "I really didn't mean to intrude. I'll be off now, yes? Feel free to er, continue. Just be ready when Myal needs you, okay?"

"Whatever," Raddig muttered, barging past Buck. He headed off in the direction Buck had coem, tucking a slim blue box inside his shirt, then tucking his shirt into his breeches.

From inside the room, Erson called, "Don't mind him. He just gets nervous around other people sometimes."

Buck considered just running away in the opposite direction, but didn't want to kick Erson while he was down. He stepped back into the room, squinting as the sunlight from a small courtyard got him right in the face. When he managed to focus on Erson, he found himself being studied. Erson's eyes were also screwed up, but he had his back to the sunlight. If Buck was going to be recognised, he was sure it would be now.

"I don't think I know you," Erson said, tilting his head to the side. "Were you here when I left?"

"No, I wasn't," Buck said, which wasn't a lie. Part of him actually felt slightly peeved now that Erson had seen but not recognised him. He had been wearing layers of paint pretty much every time they met, but still. "I've been travelling from a young age. Just got back."

"Just got back, your Highness?" Erson raised an eyebrow at him, pushing himself up from the desk.

"Oh - is that - oh, wow. Hello, your Highness. As I said, I've been away for some time. My apologies - I didn't recognise you," Buck said, putting as much breathy fluster into his voice as he could.

"I noticed," Erson said, folding his arms. Then he smiled slightly and said, "And I'd appreciate if your uncertainty, as to whether or not you saw me here today, could persist?"

"Of course!" Buck nodded rapidly, missing the sound of the bucket clanking against its handle that this action usually resulted in.

"Much appreciated," Erson said. He nodded once, then stepped past Buck and headed down the corridor in the opposite direction that Raddig had.

Buck didn’t see Erson again until he was climbing on stage to announce the first act for the night. Erson’s throne had been pushed up alongside Myal’s, both sitting side on near the front of the stage.

There the siblings sat chatting away as Buck ushered up Nynor, a decent harp player whose instrument had been passed down in her family for so many generations that nobody could remember how they got it. Her eyes darted briefly towards the prince and princess but for the most part she kept her eyes trained straight forward, fixed on some particular spot on the back wall. She really wasn’t terrible at playing the harp, but by gods were they going to have to work on her stage presence.

The tables were set out around the sides of the room like they had been two nights ago, with the centre of the floor reserved for dancing. A slow dance to harp music would be an odd start to the night, but Buck had shoved some instrumental numbers to the start of the programme when he heard Erson was coming back. Most of the singers had had lyrics as bawdy as Loilyn’s, if slightly less eloquent, so Buck had decided that, until Erson was good and drunk, no lyrics would be the way to go.

“Alright, everyone!” he called, clapping his hands together with a loud crack to get the attention of the last few people to turn around. “This evening we begin with a few instrumental melodies, then some short, er, traditional songs, then closing with the Loilyn the Loud, followed by myself with the Chronicle of the Realm! So please, get some food in you, some drink down you, and put your hands together for Nynor on the harp!”

The night went much better than expected, even as they moved into some of the dirtier songs. Buck was expecting Erson to suddenly tense, his smile to drop, his brow to ripple into a frown – just as it had that horrible last night in Resador. But no, he chatted to Myal, had a few snacks, a lot of drinks, smiling all the while.

Finally, it was time for Loilyn to play. Buck thought about letting himself off the stage to join the dancing, for this would be his last chance of the night. But he had to keep an eye on Erson, so he stayed put. Loilyn introduced herself, which Buck thought was fitting for an almost closing act. She looked around, caught his eye, then scanned the crowd and made eye contact with a few more folks. Then she began her song.

Buck glanced towards Erson as often as he could without becoming obvious. Still his smile did not drop. In fact, Buck kept his eye trained on him for a moment, and started to wonder if that smile was a little too wide, a little too rigid. He wondered if that had been the case the whole time, if he was just putting on a brave face. Buck kept watching him but all too soon Loilyn was finished and it was time for his own song.

Nynor the harpist accompanied him, which Buck thought made the dry history song sound much fuller than when it was just his voice ringing out across the hall. In fact, he started to enjoy himself, started to picture the skirmishes between regions that had finally been brought to a close with the Valley Treaty. Maybe it helped being here, in the very palace where it was signed. Whatever the reason, Buck found himself lost in the song.

So much so that he forgot to keep an eye on Erson’s reaction, to see if maybe the tightness of his smile relaxed.

He finished to a round of sustained applause, which he extended longer by gesturing first to Nynor, then to Loilyn, who had been dancing in the centre of the room.

“Thank you, everyone!” he called. “We hope you have enjoyed this concert, in honour of Princess Myal, and we would love to see you all again soon!” Buck considered suggesting a future concert in Erson’s honour, but didn’t quite have the nerve.

There were whoops and whistles, until eventually the applause died down and people groggily started moving towards the exits.

As Nynor excused herself and slipped offstage, Myal rushed up to Buck, her long hair styled wavy and loose around her shoulders. “Buttane, that was wonderful! Wasn’t that wonderful, Erson?”

Erson stepped up to Myal’s side and smiled at her with one side of his mouth. That seemed like a natural enough brotherly smile. He said, “Yes. Quite the thing, that was.”

She tugged at the lapels of his thin black coat, like an excited child. “Was that like what they have down in Resador?”

Erson raised his eyebrows and glanced at Buck. “Oh, it absolutely is.”

Buck’s stomach flipped. “Uh, I wouldn’t know, your Highness. My travels didn’t take me as far as Resador.” He was too flustered to remember if he’d told Myal the same or something different, but she didn’t seem to notice.

“Well, you can have all the fun of Resador right here, okay?” She grinned at Erson, who rolled his eyes and nodded, smiling back.

“Buttane, was it?” he said, reaching a hand out for Buck to shake.

“Yeah,” Buck said. Technically, that was now two times he had been truthful to Erson.

“I was wondering if you might like to join us for some supper,” Erson said. “That chronicle was beautifully delivered, and I’m sure you have many interesting thoughts to offer on the topic of history.”

Buck actually did know a decent amount about history, but all of his information rhymed. Still, this seemed like an excellent opportunity to understand Erson better, in the comfort of family company. He especially wanted to understand Erson’s smile, and to what extent he had actually been enjoying himself.

“Buttane, you coming?” Victane called up from the floor. He was holding Dorrea’s coat, and she and Hilene were standing beside the door at the far end of the hall, ready to go.

“Oh, I’ll be there later,” he said, rubbing the back of his neck. “Just going to have a quick supper here, alright?”

Victane glanced at Erson, then smiled at Buck. “Of course that’s alright. I’ll let your mum know. Have a good evening, young man.”

“I will.” Buck nodded, waving at Victane then at the others as they headed off.

As Buck descended from the stage with the two royals, a thought popped into his head. “Hey, where was the queen tonight?”

“Oh – ah…” Myal half giggled-half gulped. “She didn’t want to come. I think she’s sleeping.”

“Oh, I doubt she slept through that,” Erson said, as he led them out the side of the hall. He looked over his shoulder at Buck. “They forced her to go to a night of song in Resador and she hated it.”