The council chamber buzzed with the kind of hushed tones usually reserved for gossiping courtiers, yet King Renault's mind was miles away, lost in plans for jokes and jests in a much more focused way than usual. He started when the oldest councilor's voice sliced through his scheming.
"Sire, might I ask why you’ve appointed Sir Gerard as your personal guard? Were your previous guards not satisfactory?"
Renault blinked back to reality, casting a wary glance toward the heavy oak door. "Keep your voice down," he whispered conspiratorially, "Sir Gerard is just outside the room."
"Ah, yes, but your majesty," the Oldest Councilor continued, undeterred by potential eavesdroppers, "wouldn’t it be better if Sir Gerard remained in his duties as sword master? He’s very well suited for that.”
"Indeed, I agree," Renault admitted, stretching his arms wide as though to embrace the whole council with his confidence. "But he is also the person I trust most in the kingdom." His declaration fell into the room with the weight of an unsheathed sword, and silence enveloped them all.
"Is there a particular reason sire trusts him so much?" The question hung in the air. The councilors seemed both shocked and insulted.
Renault shifted in his seat, the throne suddenly feeling more like a hot iron spike than a seat of comfort. "Well, uh, he's proven himself as a teacher, a, uh, champion in my name, and, uh, as a stalwart man of honor." Each 'uh' punctuated his discomfort like jousting lances hitting their mark.
"Do you still plan to marry him off before you marry, your majesty?" The oldest councilor's eyes narrowed, sharp as the tip of an arrow.
A smile tugged at the corner of Renault's lips, a sign that the gears in his mind were turning with some mischief. "Yes, but he has laid me out a challenge before I can." Renault tented his fingers in front of his face, peering over them like a general surveying a battlefield.
The councilors exchanged glances, their curiosity piqued. "What is the challenge? Perhaps we can help, sire."
Renault's determined gaze, eyes alight with the fire of a thousand jesters, pointed to the door where the knight in question stood on the other side. "To make him laugh."
A collective groan escaped the councilors, their heads dropping as though their necks could no longer bear the weight of such a monumental task. Renault's mirthful eyes betrayed none of the gravity they felt.
Outside the room, leaning casually against the cool stone wall, Gerardine's lips curled into a smirk.
***
The grand hall glittered with candlelight, its warmth barely touching the chill of formality that hung in the air. Gerardine sat rigidly next to Renault's gilded throne, a plate of roasted fowl before her as untouched as her patience. Renault, ever the playful monarch, extended his hand with a chicken leg, dropping it onto her plate with a cavalier flourish.
"Why did the chicken refuse to play cards?" Renault quipped, a mischievous glint in his eye.