"If you'd like to accompany me, I wouldn't mind," Queen Stefanianna replied.
"With all due respect, Your Majesty," Cyrus said with a bow, "my duty is to accompany the princess."
"Right, of course," The Queen said with a chuckle. "I cannot blame you - after all, royal court politics are hardly any way to spend one's time."
"Do you need a guard to accompany you?" Cyrus asked.
"It's a common courtesy among my subjects, though, I am willing to make an exception just this once."
"Sensitive information, I take it?"
"My, you're sharp, Cyrus Merrifall... Yes, I am meeting with a representative of one of our neighboring kingdoms, Davenruff."
Davenruff was a smaller kingdom located to the southeast of Epula, known primarily for it's export in goods various fabrics, primarily cotton, on account of it's large cotton fields. While a peaceful kingdom, it has been the target of several attacks from various brigands and bandits. Epula's military forces would often intervene to help their neighbor kingdom, and has since resulted in a friendly relationship between the respective royal families.
Cyrus quietly speculated to himself. So, a talk with Davenruff in regards to "sensitive information," whatever that may mean. If I were a betting man, I'd say that there's talks of a treaty or some other formally announced union between the kingdoms. But then why have no one present by the Queen's side?
"Understood, Your Highness," Cyrus answered with a nod. "I'll take my leave now."
Cyrus began walking back towards the throne room, where Princess Andaret was previously. Cyrus knew better than to push further than he already had - not even his first full day on the job, and he was already asking too many questions when having a personal audience with the queen herself. Not a great look.
As he was walking, Cyrus heard, "If I learn anything, then I will tell you personally, Cyrus Merrifall."
Cyrus stopped, turning to face the Queen. "Excuse me, My Queen?"
"I can see the skepticism on your face," Stefanianna replied."Something about this meeting... well, stinks, put quite frankly. I don't believe in secrecy, as I'm sure you could very well tell. ...You strike me as a trustworthy sort. Don't have me regret that."
Without another word, Queen Stefanianna turned and walked away from Cyrus. A few seconds later, Cyrus reflexively pinched his nostrils, as the smell of the queen's gas had finally hit him.
Goodness me! Cyrus thought. That... that sure is ripe. ...A flatulence curse, hmm? Strange curse to place on the Royal Family, of all people. Can't say I blame Her Highness for not being particularly fond of it. The princess, on the other hand...
Cyrus made his way back to the throne room, where Princess Andaret was still perched on said throne. A mischievous smirk crossed her face.
"Back again for more?" she asked Cyrus in a devilishly playful tone.
"Unfortunately, no," Cyrus replied bluntly. "...But, I assume that I will be privy to your... *ahem* wind, whether I choose to or not."
Andaret's smiled faded some. "Let me guess; my mother told you to keep note of my 'rude behavior,' as it were?" she said with finger quotes around "rude behavior." It was clear from that alone - not to mention that what Cyrus had already experienced - that the princess felt opposite to her mother in regards to her curse.
"You, Sir Merrifall, should be thankful that I, Princess Andaret of Epula, even graced you with my blessing at all!"
"That was a blessing?" Cyrus said with a raised eyebrow, half-open eyes, and a clear grimace.
"Positively! I am royalty, after all - it is no mere coincidence that I am among the most flatulent among the populous, don't you agree?"
Cyrus paused for a moment before responding. Hmm... I do not, clearly. But, perhaps I can still say something that will still satisfy her. I mean, if I am to watch over her, best to be on her good side... rather than her backside...
"No coincidence at all," Cyrus replied. "Though, in all due respect, Your Majesty... it was rather strong, for a blessing."
"All the better for it!"
"I humbly disagree."
Andaret got a quizzical look on her face, and said nothing at first. But then, a grin slowly etched its way onto her face.
"Do tell."
Cyrus wasn't prepared for a follow-up answer, but mustered, "W-Well, it is precisely because of your rather prolific flatulence that someone from a more common upbringing, such as myself... it is not at all what I am used to."
"And this makes it disagreeable?"
"You and I are on opposite ends, My Princess... I am but a common guild worker, you are royalty. My, erm, gas is typical. Yours is decidedly atypical. Disagreeable does not make one side or the other wrong, per se..."
Andaret's grin became a satisfied smirk.
She seemed to like that answer fine enough, Cyrus thought.
"So then, if I may," Andaret responded, "what you call what my display of fortuitous flatulence exactly, if not a princess' blessing?"
Awful lot of questions.
Cyrus put his hand to his chin, as a gesture to say both "allow me time to think about it" and "I'm stalling to come up with a good answer.
Think, Cyrus! What would she want to hear? She is obviously quite proud of her farting abilities, oddly enough. I need to say something that conveys my honest thoughts that also wouldn't upset her. Otherwise, I might end up face-to-butt with her once more. If I said "a curse," would that be too strong? She may even suspect that her mother the Queen would have spoken to me. I can't start any Royal Family drama, not on my first day and not while Her Majesty is dealing with Davenruff.
"In my most humble opinion, Princess," Cyrus answered, "I would personally call your display a--"
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