"I suppose you might as well know," Princess Andaret explained. "I've talked this much about it, after all. You see, it's something of a royal family secret, so what I tell you stays between us."
Cyrus nodded in understanding... even though he already knew, thanks to the queen telling him previously.
"Believe it or not, my flatulence is not exclusive to me," Andaret continued. "In fact, it has been a trait amongst the female members for generations. Yes, my mother very much included, haha!" Andaret couldn't help but laugh.
"Ohhh... Even the Queen herself?" Cyrus said as he did his best to feign ignorance.
"Indeed, but don't tell her that I said that," Andaret answered. "Unlike me, she is not nearly as thankful for it, and would rather keep it a secret."
"Any particular reason why?" Cyrus asked, knowing the answer full well.
"She sees it as a curse on our family, rather than a blessing," Andaret replied as she rolled her eyes. "See, it all started back with my great-great grandmother, Queen Emestra II - supposedly, she was visited by a strange witch who walked up to the castle's front gates late one stormy night, asking for shelter from the rain. My great-great grandmother obliged the witch's request, and even treated her to a meal in the dining hall. But, it was then that the witch had used a magical potion on Queen Emestra's bowl of soup without her realizing. As I'm sure you can guess, this potion was able to give Emestra some... let's just say--"
"Strong flatulence?" Cyrus interrupted.
Andaret laughed. "My, strong must be one of your favorite words, Cyrus! Though, not an inaccurate one for this situation. Yes, apparently Emestra's flatulence was so bold and harsh that it almost destroyed parts of the castle on several occasions."
Cyrus' eyes widened considerably. "D-Destroyed?!"
"Yes, yes, rumors of strange earthquakes even littered the gossip among the townsfolk," Andaret joked. "Now, between you and I, I think that is simply an exaggeration that grew from generation to generation in my family - I obviously never got the chance to meet my great-great grandmother, and I wouldn't put it past my mother to twist the truth to make it sound much more... undesirable."
Andaret then leaned towards Cyrus slightly. "But if it is true... then man, I wish I could have some of my power! I imagine it would've gotten deluded the further down the family tree it goes."
"B-But, how would a potion be able to have effects on her offspring?" Cyrus asked. "I would've thought that a curse was conducted through a sort of spell or chant or recantation."
"Right?" Andaret said back. "I thought the same - unfortunately, I've yet to find any reliable records of the actual events that may have transpired that night. I wouldn't be at all surprised if what I've been told is either false memory or blatant revisionism. To be frank, what happened to Queen Emestra could just be the earliest known instance. Could be that this power goes back centuries, and Esmestra meeting the witch is just a possible explanation."
The Queen DID say "centuries" when referring to this "bloodline curse." Cyrus said to himself. Perhaps she knows more about the history behind it than the Princess does?
"So, assuming it is true," Cyrus said, "why curse the queen with such a strange condition?"
"If I had to guess," Andaret replied, "it was simply a petty matter - something she could do to embarrass the queen amongst her subjects. One thing for sure is that this 'curse' is a closely kept secret from those outside these castle walls."
"But, you don't see it as a curse," Cyrus inferred. "You keep calling it a blessing."
Andaret nodded. "That's right - my mother feels opposite to me, of course, but having such a one-of-a-kind power can't be anything but a blessing, right?"
"I... suppose," Cyrus stammered.
"You seem unconvinced," Andaret said.
"Well... I suppose I'm unsure exactly how to feel about it exactly, Your Highness."
"Like I said, feel free to call me Andaret."
"Right. Andaret... that'll take some getting used to," Cyrus admitted.
Andaret giggled, "Hopefully not too much getting used to."
Andaret then proceeded to put her hands behind her back. "So then," she added, "what would you call my flatulence, Cyrus? A blessing, or a curse?"
Cyrus gulped. Uhh, is this a trick question? he thought. Flatulence like hers is hardly a "blessing." ...Though, of all things to call a "curse," I can't help but feel that this is a stretch.
Andaret could see the uncertainty in Cyrus' face.
"Hmm, alright," she said. "Different question - do you see flatulence as a good or bad thing?"
"Just... in general?"
"Indeed."
"Well... it's neither."
Andaret tilted her head. "How so?"
"Flatulence is simply neutral. By no means pleasant, of course, but also not some horrible thing. I suppose... I take more issue with it if someone is being uncouth about it, if that makes sense."
"Like if someone farted in your face?" Andaret smiled slyly.
Cyrus winced. "Yes... like if someone farted in my face. But, besides that... I can't claim to say it bothers me as much as it does other people. It clearly does not bother you any."
Andaret sighed. "Sure bothers my mother - bothers her so much she practically enforces that I be bothered by it, too."
Cyrus thought back to his conversation with Queen Stefanianna. "Crude," "Immature," and "Embarrassing" were the words she used when describing the curse... well, assuming it was even a curse at all now. It was clear that this difference in opinion between the two was a source of friction. He felt it best not to prod any further than he already had.
"Well... thank you for showing me to my quarters, Andaret," Cyrus replied.
Andaret nodded. "Of course, Cyrus - when you are tasked with being by my side, or summoned for whatever reason, consider this your place of rest. After all, I don't need you with me for every second of every day."
Cyrus then had a thought. Actually... why DO I need to stay by her side in the first place? The job posting at the Worker's Guild said that this was only a temporary affair, and the Queen said Andaret needed a bodyguard specifically.
Cyrus temporarily set aside those thoughts as he opened the door to his living quarters. He then turned and gave Andaret a farewell, and she returned the favor.
As Cyrus looked out his window, he noticed the sun setting along the hills on the outskirts of the castle town. Cyrus had almost lost track of time - it was to be the evening soon, and he got the approval of both the princess and the queen themselves to take the rest of the day in stride. With that, Cyrus began making himself comfortable.
---------------------------------------------------------------------------- -------------------------------------------------------------------------------- -------
As night fell, Cyrus found himself laying on his bed, gazing up towards the ceiling whilst in casual wear. After settling in, he couldn't help but spend his time pondering and processing what he had gone through that day.
Something about all of this feels... off, he thought. And, not JUST because of all the farting...
Perhaps it was the timing that puzzled Cyrus the most - given what Queen Stefanianna had told him, it was clear that serious talks with Davenruff were underway. Could it be at all related to his job of keeping guard of Andaret? His mind continued to sift through his thoughts and feelings on the subject.
The princess may not feel the need for my presence here, but the Queen most certainly does. It was her that made the post on the Guild's job board, after all. Such a honor it would be to work directly for Her Highness! No wonder so many of my guildmates went for the chance... and then subsequently gave up after realizing what exactly they were signing up for... still, why have someone from the guild and not one of her several other knights or squires?
His focus then shifted to the nature of the royal family's flatulence.
If their constant farting is meant to be kept secret, it would explain why none of the guildmates who refused the position mentioned exactly WHY they refused at all. But then, why keep it a secret at all? The Princess and the Queen don't seem to even agree what exactly is the cause of such a strange condition. Do they just not know? Or rather, do they not want anybody ELSE to know?
He then shook his head.
This is ridiculous... I'm thinking far too hard about it. The simplest, easiest answer is that it's best kept secret, since the royal family has an image to uphold to the people. I'm sure it'd be strange to know such a peculiar detail regarding Her Highness. May even have her be taken less seriously as a ruler.
Cyrus then slowly closed his eyes, as he drifted into sleep.
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Then, suddenly, in the middle of the night, Cyrus was awoken by--
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