The Princess and The Reluctant Knight

Episode 23

The castle's stone corridors echoed with the clinking of armor as the King's guard, a sea of steel and duty, marched to Heathcliff's tune. They were off to chase phantoms in the west, while the queen was eastward, likely frightening the local wildlife with her robust laughter.

Sir Jack, the highest-ranking knight appeared before Heathcliff. "My lord. The men are away. We march on your command."

"Excellent, Sir Jack. You are the very model of chivalry. The queen will be most relieved to know her safety is of such paramount concern to us all."

Sir Jack nodded. "We shall scour the west for her grace, turn every stone if need be."

Heathcliff's eyes danced with unshared jest. "Every stone, Sir Jack? What devotion! But remember, not too far west. We would not want to startle the meerkats."

A beat passed as Sir Jack processed this. "Meerkats, my lord?"

Heathcliff waved a dismissive hand. "A jest, Sir Jack, a jest. Off you go... and may fortune smile upon your quest."

As the knights departed, a chuckle escaped Heathcliff. The game was afoot, and he was the puppet master, tugging at strings as he weakened the castle's defenses for his obscure purposes.

* * *

The great hall was a blend of gossip and laughter when Heathcliff sauntered in, his presence commanding attention as he navigated the throng with the ease of a man born to weave through the intricate dance of court politics.

He positioned himself strategically by a pillar, a silent sentinel observing the ebb and flow of the room. His mind, however, was far from silent, having flickered momentarily toward the throne, empty now, but soon to cradle the weight of King Dave.

The risk was great. For if the king were to discover the ruse, would he erupt in volcanic fury, or would he see the humor in Heathcliff's elaborate farce?

"Lord Heathcliff!" Sir Jack said, after rushing inside. "My lord, I must speak with you."

Heathcliff turned, his expression a mask of concern. "Sir Jack, back so soon? Pray tell, what news?"

The knight wrung his gauntleted hands. "The men, my lord, they are... well, they are uncertain."

"Uncertain?" Heathcliff let the word hang in the air, a single note of discord in the melody of his plan.

"Yes, my lord. They seek the queen in the west, but whispers of her actual whereabouts have sown doubt. They question the wisdom of their path."

Heathcliff's heart quickened, not with fear, but with the thrill of the unexpected. "Ah, doubt is a loyal subject's luxury. But fear not, Sir Jack, for our queen is cunning. She wishes to test our resolve, to see if we will follow her trail or succumb to idle gossip."

Sir Jack's gaze flickered with the first spark of understanding. "A test, of course! Her Majesty is as wise as she is fair. We shall not falter, my lord."

Heathcliff nodded, flashing a fake smile. "See to it, Sir Jack. Our queen's safety is the realm's cornerstone, and we cannot allow it to be undermined by whispers or doubt."

The great hall seemed to hold its breath, the chatter dimming. Sir Jack saluted. "On my honor, my lord. We shall not rest until our queen is safely found."

"And may that rest be long in coming," Heathcliff thought with a silent chuckle, watching Sir Jack leave.

Heathcliff retreated to the shadows, his mind a charcuterie board of plots and possibilities. Each step he took was a move in a game only he seemed to fully understand, a game that Canadian Red River Jig danced on the knife-edge of farce and fantasy.