One may recall that Prince Charming and his devotees had taken the Golden Goose and the Genie in the Lamp from the clutches of the Evil Queen. This had been a major blow against her campaign to invade the entire Realm.
They travelled back to the Prince’s Kingdom where he considered his next move.
“Sire,” said Percy as they met in the royal court. “I heard a few stories while we were on the road. You know, in the Inns and taverns. Given what we know of the Evil Queen, a nasty thought occurred.”
“That Archie might have kept some of the items he found in her dirty linen basket?”
“I told you,” began Archie. “I was merely searching it in case she’d hidden the Lamp in there!”
“Well knowing him, he probably took a few items as souvenirs but that wasn’t what I was about to say,” the horse shook his head. “There is talk of this Emperor in a Kingdom north of here. It’s a small but wealthy Kingdom and the Emperor succeeded to the throne about a year ago. He is apparently living in opulence despite his people being mired in poverty.”
“I don’t think I have ever been there,” remarked the Prince.
“No, we haven’t,” agreed Percy. “Nonetheless, the Evil Queen’s army has invaded the Kingdom on its Western border. Because of the Emperor’s arrogance and self-indulgence, he has neglected his own security and many believe the Kingdom will be easily taken by the Evil Queen.”
“Oh my,” the Prince winced. “Even without the war chest the Golden Goose provided her?”
“She will struggle with many Kingdoms but not one so poorly defended,” explained Percy. “The problem is that the Emperor is sitting on deep reserves of wealth from their diamond mines. If she gets control of those, it will only ensure her army can be strengthened significantly.”
“We must stop them!” declared the Prince.
“There is one other thing,” added Percy. “It is a guess but an informed one. We know how desperate for a man the Evil Queen is, right?”
“Yes.”
“I would not be at all surprised if she invaded the Kingdom before insisting on marrying the Emperor to keep him on side. From what I hear, if he retained his status and privilege, he would probably agree thus essentially unifying the two Kingdoms for the long term. They would have no army nor reason with which to form a resistance or take their own Kingdom back.”
“I think we must ride to this Kingdom without further delay,” said the Prince.
“Agreed sire, but what do we do with the Golden Goose and the Lamp?”
“I’ll look after them!” said Archie cheerfully.
“I bet you would,” the Prince regarded him dubiously.
“I shall mind them in your absence,” said Red Riding Hood with her hand on her crossbow. “I would rather have accompanied you but if they need to be prevented from falling into malicious hands, I shall protect them.”
“That’s not very kind,” said Archie in a wounded tone. “Can’t I be trusted to look after them?”
“No,” was the immediate answer from the other three.
“Why?”
“Archie old chap,” began the Prince. “I don’t like to sound like I am opening up old wounds or anything but your track record isn’t exactly gleaming when it comes to loyalty and reliability.”
“Whatever do you mean?”
“You started the civil war.”
“Oh, that was ages ago!”
“Then you helped bring about the end of the Realm Union which inflicted high tariffs, inflation and supply issues across all the Kingdoms, bringing some of them to their knees.”
“I was misled by my fellow campaigners!”
“And you burned the Paper Ballerina to death,” added Percy.
“And presided over all the deaths during the Pandemic,” added Red Riding Hood. “Neglecting to govern properly and hiding in your castle!”
“I think you are being harsh,” whined Archie. “Come on! What harm do you think I could do with the Golden Goose and the Lamp?”
“Probably the following,” said Percy. “You’d make the Goose lay lots of eggs and then have them melted down into currency for yourself. I suspect you’d also use the Genie for your own ends and inevitably pursue some misguided scheme to build your own army with which to wage war on the Evil Queen…”
“Would that be a bad thing?” asked Archie.
“Yes! Because you have consistently proved to be a dreadful general!” said the Prince. “There would be awful numbers of fatalities and the Realm would be in chaos.”
“I have to hand it to you,” smiled Archie. “That’s not a bad plan at all.”
“Which is exactly why we are not leaving these items with you,” said the Prince.
“Can I come with you then?” asked Archie.
“Err…” the Prince eyed Percy uncertainly.
“I don’t think this is your sort of mission Archie,” explained Percy. “Anyway, we need you back here in the Castle as a figurehead to…reassure the people?”
“Really?” Archie brightened up.
“Yes,” said the Prince. “But purely in a symbolic sense.”
“What do you mean?”
“Just stay here and fly the royal standard so that the people know everything is as normal. Don’t do anything.”
“What?”
“Just stay inside and don’t make any decisions…”
“Don’t interfere with anything,” added Percy.
“Me? Interfere?”
Faraway in the Kingdom where the Emperor ruled, he was sitting idly on his golden throne. Dressed in silk and satin and adorned with an array of gold bracelets and diamond necklaces, he drank champagne but was morose as his advisers and Chief Courtier stood by in silence.
“Sire,” began the Chief Courtier. “As you requested, we have arranged a procession to mark one year of your auspicious rule. It will be going ahead in just over a week.”
“Good!” suddenly his mood lifted. “I don’t know why you were so objectionable when I asked for it?”
“I apologize sire, it is just unusual to celebrate just one year on the throne. Your father waited until his twenty fifth year.”
“I’m not like my father!”
“No, you’re not.”
“Anyway, aren’t the people glad of the day off they’re getting?”
“Not really sire. The day falls on a Sunday.”
“Is that important?”
“Well yes sire,” the Chief Courtier cleared his throat. “Most of your subjects don’t work on Sundays.”
“Don’t they?” he was staggered. “Why ever not?”
“It’s their day off along with Saturday. They call it the weekend.”
“How fortunate they are! I never realized! You don’t get a ‘weekend’ do you?”
“No, sire. We don’t.”
“Anyway,” the Emperor finished his champagne. “What are the plans for the big day?”
“We thought you could take your horse and carriage around the capital for an hour, waving at the people who have assembled before addressing the crowds from the balcony of the palace?”
“Sounds like a plan. They’re so lucky to have an Emperor like me.”
“I am sure they’re ecstatic sire.”
“Anyway, enough of the logistics, now about the important issue!”
“Sire?”
“What I will be wearing!” insisted the Emperor.
“Oh right,” the Chief Courtier could barely hide his lack of interest. “Well sire, I am sure you have plenty in your extensive wardrobe to consider for the event?”
“Oh no!” the Emperor cried. “Most of my clothes are out of season! No, I need a new outfit for the occasion!”
“You do?”
“Oh yes, certainly!”
“Right…”
“Where is my tailor?” inquired the Emperor.
“I believe he is dead sire.”
“Dead?” he was astonished.
“Yes, malnutrition I heard. Resulting from starvation.”
“Oh, that is most inconvenient!” the Emperor clicked his fingers so a servant refilled his goblet with champagne. “I want it announced in the market square that I will pay someone handsomely to make me a new set of clothes for the occasion!”
“Okay sire,” the Chief Courtier said before whispering in the ear of one of the other servants who immediately departed the room.
“So then Percy, what else have you been hearing about this Emperor?” the Prince inquired as they travelled across the Realm towards the Emperor’s Kingdom.
“Well sire, I am not entirely sure why he has the title of Emperor as he isn’t head of an Empire. He should just be a normal King, Queen or Baron like anybody else. Nonetheless, his father was cordial with yours and they had a good trading relationship many years ago. But his son is somewhat vain and selfish. He cares not for his people nor looking after the Kingdom. Instead, he idly remains in his Palace, eating and drinking opulently and throwing endless parties.”
“Like me in the old days?”
“A bit sire but you always had a social conscience. Anyway, his subjects are living in abject poverty due to the Realm Union splitting up and his high taxes which fund his lavish lifestyle. If the Evil Queen invades, I could definitely see him being susceptible to her charms, if you can call them that.”
“Bit of a strange one Percy,” replied the Prince. “We usually end up combating some peculiar creature or righting some wrong. You know, like with the Paper Ballerina?”
“Who was burned alive.”
“Okay, not the best example. But you know what I mean.”
“Sorry sire if this particular mission lacks the usual customary mix of jeopardy and pizzazz but if we really want to clean up the Realm, I think it is important we go there and warn him about the Evil Queen and try persuading him to turn over a new leaf.”
“I agree Percy,” smiled the Prince. “In fact, in many ways I am looking forward to it. It sounds a lot more simple and straightforward. The problem with most of our adventures is that there is some catch whereby one of the people we meet has some unspeakable sexual habit or eccentricity. I trust that won’t be the case here?”
“No, no,” said Percy. “I’ve heard nothing sinister or depraved in regards to the Emperor.”
“Really?”
“No sire, from what I hear, he’s just a spoilt brat!”
“Ah, I see, well this should be fairly easy then right?”
“We will have to use our powers of diplomacy sire.”
“Is that why you insisted on not bringing Archie?”
“Your grandness,” nodded the Weaver. “I can make you the most luxurious garments, some that would make even you stand regally and resplendently before your subjects.”
The Weaver had presented himself on hearing about the Emperor’s need for a new set of clothes from the town crier in the market square.
“That sounds wonderful,” nodded the Emperor. “I want to be the best dressed person in the entire Realm!”
“I can make that so Your Imperialness.”
“I want people to point at me in public where ever I go!”
“I can guarantee they will! You see Your Empirical one, I use only a certain type of loom which weaves cotton that has magical qualities.”
“Do you?” the Emperor was impressed and clearly fascinated.
“Oh yes!” the Weaver replied. “I use amazing fabrics and cottons! You won’t recognize yourself once you are in one of my outfits!”
“Are you saying I need to change the way I look wholesale?” the Emperor suddenly looked angry with a flicker of it in his eyes.
“No, no, of course not Your Imperiousness!” the Weaver sensed danger. “I am purely saying it would be like putting a cherry on an extremely splendid cake.”
“What kind of cake?” the Emperor reposed on his chaise lounge.
“A five tier cake of infinite beauty, the greatest most fabulous cake the Realm has ever witnessed! A cake that would break all records of extravagance.”
“My dear Weaver, I like the sound of the endeavours you propose.”
“I wondered your masturbatory one,” the Weaver continued. “When you would like your new clothes?”
“That’s a damn fine question!” the Emperor said thoughtfully. “I have a royal procession at the end of this week, to celebrate a year on the throne!”
“Good! So I can begin weaving your imperial clothes immediately oh special one?”
“Yes, yes!” he cried. “The sooner, the better!”
The Weaver bowed before departing the palace hall. What the Emperor didn’t notice was the curious smile the Weaver had on his face as he bowed. It was curious because the expression was distinctly crafty. Indeed, a cunning glint appeared in his eyes.
“Sire,” began the Emperor’s Chief Courtier. “I really must press you to address more urgent matters in the Kingdom.”
“Oh really?” yawned the Emperor.
“Yes sire, as you know, the break up of the Realm Union has meant trading with other kingdoms has been made far more difficult. Import tariffs have risen and inflation is at an all time high. There are grain shortages leading to a scarcity of fundamental foods like bread…”
“Is the royal pantry well supplied?”
“Well yes sire…”
“Then I don’t know why you are boring me with all this?”
“But sire, the people are starving!”
“No, they’re not!” the Emperor shook his head. “I was in my carriage the other week and they all seemed happy enough! They were gesturing and waving at me!”
“Yes sire, with two fingered salutes.”
“Two fingers! For victory!”
“Sire, we are not at war and have not been at war. Why would they be signalling victory?”
“And they were also punching the air,” said the Emperor as he drank wine from his goblet. “With delight.”
“I am not sure that was quite what they meant sire,” the courtier sighed. “It wasn’t meant as approval.”
“It made me feel rather proud and patriotic,” remarked the Emperor. “It was unfortunate one of my guards felt it necessary to shoot some of them dead.”
“Yes sire, perhaps it was because of what they was shouting? I suspect they were best off not questioning your parentage.”
The Weaver attended the Emperor’s royal court to provide him with an update on his hew new clothes with the clock ticking regarding the procession.
“How is my new outfit coming along?” the Emperor inquired of the Weaver who himself had spent his advance on a fine set of clothes which he wore that day.
“Good your exulted one,” nodded the Weaver. “It is very much in the design stage at the moment. Although I would like to ask you a few questions.”
“Go on…”
“I can see, despite you sitting on your throne, that you are a tall man, would that be correct?”
“Yes…” agreed the Emperor.
“I would say six foot two or three in height…”
“Six foot three yes…”
“Jolly good, you see I would measure you but that would be an inconvenience to your grace as you would have to stand up for a few moments,” smiled the Weaver. “Secondly your wonderfulness, from what I see, you are an athletic man in figure. A fine physical specimen with broad shoulders and a slim waist?”
“You are obviously accustomed to making such judgements,” replied the Emperor. “I cannot contradict your estimates.”
“Excellent your sexiness,” nodded the Weaver. “Therefore, I will proceed on that basis!”
“I await your creation in great anticipation!” enthused the Emperor, clapping his hands together excitedly.
The Emperor made the short journey to the Weaver’s workshop to inspect how his new outfit was progressing. To maintain secrecy, he entered the premises alone to be cordially welcomed by the Weaver.
“It’s an honour to have you in my humble abode!”
“So this is what a commoner’s residence looks like,” the Emperor sniffed as he looked around the sparsely decorated room. “I can see why they all worship me now.”
“Your Majesty?”
“They admire my authority and my status.”
“Well this doubles as my place of work,” explained the Weaver.
“I see, nonetheless, let me see your progress!”
“It is before you!” proclaimed the Weaver, pointing to a tailor’s dummy that was stood in the centre of the room.
“What?” the Emperor froze.
“I see you are taken aback?”
“Yes…I am…” the Emperor was puzzled, looking the dummy up and down prior to giving the Weaver a strange look. “You see Weaver…is this your polite way of hinting that you haven’t made any progress?”
“What?”
“It’s just a dummy. With nothing on.”
“Nothing on Your Greatness?”
“It’s just an empty, naked dummy!”
“But sire, surely you must acknowledge the magical fabrics that I have weaved into the garments?”
“Magical?”
“Oh yes!” nodded the Weaver.
There was a silence during which the Weaver had a knowing look on his face. The Emperor merely frowned.
“Magical?” he finally asked again.
“Oh yes!” the Weaver repeated himself. “It’s a new type of fabric you see. It has magical qualities so that it can change colour or blend in with the background. Amazing stuff.”
“Does it?”
“Yes, your Wankiness, I procured it from a tradesman I know who himself got it from a Sorcerer. I regard it to be state-of-the-art in the fashion world. In fact, you might very well be the first person to wear a new outfit completely made from it. I expect, in years to come, everybody will be wearing this stuff, but you could be a pioneer.”
“I could?”
“Yes, your Easytoflatterness.”
“I see, well although I don’t quite understand magic, I like the sound of this. Tell me Weaver, what will it look like when I can see it?”
“Perhaps it is the lighting in here or that your eyes are unfamiliar,” shrugged the Weaver. “But I can see it because my eyes have adjusted to recognizing it. I need to work on it more but the effect will be that of a regal gold and silver look to reflect the grandeur and splendour of yourself.”
“Fabulous!” the Emperor cried.
“It already looks majestic,” said the Weaver. “I just need to work a little on the finer details like the buttons and lapels.”
“I simply cannot wait for the procession!” exclaimed the Emperor. “It will be marvellous!”
“You will look incredible,” nodded the Weaver. “You will be the talk of the Kingdom and, most likely, the talk of the Realm.”
“Excellent! Keep up the good work!”
The Emperor departed to host a banquet in the Palace while the Weaver spent the night in a local Inn.
The Emperor paid his second visit to the workshop of the Weaver a day later. He was accompanied by his Chief Courtier and several senior advisers although they remained outside the workshop whilst he went inside.
“Welcome Your Majesticness,” bowed the Weaver. “I am honoured to have you here!”
“You are,” replied the Emperor.
He frowned because there was a screen in the centre of the room. The Weaver went to stand to the left of it, rubbing his hands together gleefully.
“I think you will be pleased with my progress,” smiled the Weaver. “I’ve worked until the small hours on the finer details let me tell you!”
“You have?”
“Oh yes and I had to scour the Realm, not just the Kingdom, for the right accessories. The buttons had to be ordered especially from a boutique in a Kingdom in the far east of the Realm. The lapels have been woven using silk and satin from a Kingdom in the north west of the Realm. Fortunately your reputation precedes you and so that my contacts and suppliers were more than happy to oblige!”
“I would expect so.”
“So then Your Vacuousness!” the Weaver pulled away the screen to reveal the fruit of his labours.
There was silence.
“Eh…Weaver…”
“Yes, your Shortsightedness?”
“Is it just me or…or…is it just a dummy still?”
“No Your Venerealness! Can you not see? The splendid array of golds and silvers, the majestic lapels, the sparkling clusters in the buttons?”
“Well I eh…”
“Perhaps your eyes or senses are still unfamiliar with the magic within these clothes,” the Weaver nodded thoughtfully. “Of course, it being magic, it remains forever impossible to see for some.”
“For some?”
“Yes, yes,” the Weaver paced the room. “I have discovered that some people cannot see the clothes at all.”
“Who?”
“Well Your Gullibleness, I had my carriage driver in here the other day, a plain and honest fellow but not the brightest. I was showing him some of the garments, not the whole thing as that remains a secret, but he was unable to see it. The trousers were hung right here in this room and he insisted he could not see them. I was baffled.”
“You were?”
“Yes, so I asked the dung gatherer on the street to come in yesterday and unveiled the shirt to him and, similarly, he saw nothing. He was immune to the sartorial splendour and magnificence of the garment. The poor fellow couldn’t see a thing.”
“I see.”
“So I drew the conclusion that perhaps these magic garments are only to be seen by the…well…not to put too fine a point on it…the better bred, more intelligent of us.”
“Really?”
“Yes Your WoolPulledOverYourEyesNess,” nodded the Weaver earnestly. “Both fellows are nice and humble chaps but they’re not exactly bright. Perhaps it might be that the clothes cannot be appreciated by the stupid or incompetent?”
“I see…well I suppose…” the Emperor’s eyes quickly looked at the dummy. “Gold you say? Silver? You know, I think I see it now…the clothes are starting to become visible…”
“Oh good Your Gormlessness! I knew it was only a case of your sight being adjusted or acclimatized to them! Excellent. Tell me please, do you appreciate the sash across the waist?”
“The sash?”
“Yes?”
“Oh yes…the sash…the silk one…”
“Satin…Your Dimness, if I may be so bold.”
“Satin.”
“They look identical,” the Weaver shrugged. “But tell me, do you approve?”
“Yes, yes, of course!”
“Wonderful!” the Weaver punched the air. “I am so pleased!”
“So you are saying that incompetent or stupid people won’t be able to see the outfit once I am wearing it?”
“Maybe,” nodded the Weaver. “Which is a shame as it might not get the exposure I would have hoped.”
“I will call in my servants,” announced the Emperor. “This is not the finished outfit is it?”
“No, that will be unveiled on the big day.”
“Good.”
The Emperor went to the door which he opened before beckoning to those outside. Three of his advisers and his Chief Courtier entered the room. They were all middle aged men with failing eyesight and had absolutely no knowledge of fashion or haute couture.
“Gentlemen!” said the Emperor. “Here is the work in progress that will eventually be my outfit for the procession!”
There was silence.
“They must be stunned by the magnificence,” said the Weaver.
“Outfit?” frowned the Chief Courtier.
“Yes!” the Emperor pointed at the dummy.
“I must be missing something here but…”
“I can only see a tailor’s dummy,” remarked one of the advisers.
The other two men simply looked puzzled but seemed unwilling to say anything.
“As I thought,” sighed the Weaver to the Emperor.
“Are you telling me you can’t see the outfit?” the Emperor gave his servants a dirty look.
“Maybe…” the Chief Courtier stammered. “Is this a new thing in clothing Sire?”
“Well yes.”
“I see…to have the clothes blend in with their surroundings?”
“Go on.”
“So that they are camouflaged as the dummy?”
The Emperor turned to the Weaver and rolled his eyes.
“I always had my doubts you know. I should have replaced them years ago. I inherited them from my father.”
“Oh well,” shrugged the Weaver. “I am sure they will get the hang of it.”
“Sire!” the Chief Courtier spoke to the Emperor back in the Palace. “I saw nothing. We saw nothing.”
“You saw nothing because you are a fool!” the Emperor snapped.
“Your Majesty?”
“Only certain people can see the clothes!” explained the Emperor. “They are invisible to the stupid or the incompetent! I just hoped my inner circle were not to be included in that group!”
“But sire,” the Chief Courtier blushed. “You don’t think…I mean…well…this man only appeared in the Kingdom recently. He came with no references or recommendations. Could it be that he is a swindler? A confidence trickster?”
“What?” the Emperor was dismissive.
“To take a fee for doing nothing?”
“Oh come on!” he half laughed. “How implausible is that? I would see straight through such a subterfuge! The Weaver would look rather foolish on the big day when he produces nothing!”
“But that is all I saw today!” insisted the Chief Courtier. “Nothing!”
“Thus demonstrating your incompetence!”
“I think I saw something,” nodded one of the advisers who had so far remained quiet.
“You did?” the Chief Courtier turned to him in dismay.
“Yes, it was vague…” the man was sheepish. “Only a few details were visible.”
“Like what?” fired back the Emperor.
“The…sequins…and…” he hesitated prior to hopefully adding. “And the buttons?”
“Ah yes!” the other adviser who had hitherto been reluctant to opine on the matter said almost enthusiastically. “The buttons!”
“Good, good,” the Emperor took a swig of wine from his goblet. “Not all of my courtiers are fools. That is a relief.”
There was now a divide between the two courtiers who claimed to have seen the clothes and the two that didn’t. They regarded each other uneasily.
“May we go again tomorrow?” the Chief Courtier removed his spectacles and cleaned them on his tunic. “Perhaps it was my eyesight. I am sure I will see them if I look hard enough?”
“Me too!” said the other adviser who had not seen the clothes.
“Fine, I will accompany you,” the Emperor told them.
“Welcome, welcome!” the Weaver bowed and scraped as the Emperor and his entourage of four entered the workshop. “I am delighted you wished to check on the progress of the Emperor’s New Clothes once again.”
“It is not me who wanted to check,” the Emperor replied coolly. “I have no doubts whatsoever about the clothes. It is two of these so-called advisers who are apparently going blind and senile!”
“Oh right…”
“I see, I see. They’ll be spending a weekend in the dungeon if they don’t up their game soon.”
The Weaver and the Emperor exchanged knowing glances.
“I have done a little work overnight,” the Weaver stifled a yawn before indicating the tailor’s dummy stood in the centre of the room covered up with linen. “But it shouldn’t look all that different.”
“Oh yes!” remarked the Emperor with his hands on his hips. “So I can see!”
His advisers all looked at each in bewilderment.
“You will note I have added the belt Your flangeness.”
“Yes, I see.”
His advisers remained reticent before one of those who had claimed to see the outfit the previous day stepped forward.
“Oh yes! Very classy!” he beamed.
The other three all glared at him.
“You see the buckle?” the Weaver asked.
“Oh yes!”
“That took a lot of effort to find but I remembered seeing it on an antiques stall in a market in the Kingdom north of here. I had my boy ride overnight to bring it here!”
“Oh right…it goes with the sash,” nodded the other adviser who had claimed to see the clothes.
The remaining two gave him daggers.
“It was picked especially to complement it,” explained the Weaver.
“Impeccable taste,” the adviser told the Emperor. “It will look splendid on the procession.”
“I should think so.”
“Oh now I see it!” the third adviser suddenly cried out.
“Do you?” the Chief Courtier burst out in exasperation.
“Yes, the black corset…”
“What?” the Emperor spat.
“Yes and the…suspenders…”
It is worth the reader knowing that this man had a vague knowledge of clothing and was just saying anything he thought might be an item of clothing.
“What?” the Emperor raised an eyebrow at the Weaver. “What’s he talking about?”
“And the basque!” proclaimed the adviser who apparently hadn’t sensed any danger so added. “The black lace stockings!”
“I think he’s getting muddled,” the Weaver told the Emperor. “There are stockings, of course, but he must be colour blind as they’re purple. I am not sure what else he means however?”
“Quite,” the Emperor crossed his arms, wondering who he could appoint in the adviser’s place before consulting the Chief Courtier. “And you?”
“I really don’t have the vocabulary or the knowledge to speak with any authority about such things,” was all he could muster.
“But you can see it, right?”
“Yes, I just couldn’t tell a buckle from a button or a stocking from a suspender.”
“I see,” the Emperor eyed him dubiously.
“I hope it meets with your approval?” the Weaver said.
“It certainly does,” nodded the Emperor. “And it’s made me see my servants in a whole new light.”
“Sire,” said Percy as they travelled through the outskirts of the Emperor’s kingdom where they had passed several small villages. “I take it you have noticed something unusual considering that just over the other side of those mountains we saw, the Evil Queen’s soldiers are preparing a garrison.”
“No soldiers or military manoeuvring around here?”
“Exactly sire, they are there for the taking. The Emperor is so preoccupied with his banquets, parties and clothes that he hasn’t put aside any money for soldiers. They don’t even seem to be aware what is coming their way. The Evil Queen’s army will walk right in, face no resistance and simply march on his castle.”
“We had better hope we reach him and get him to change his ways before her army comes over the mountainside,” the Prince sighed ruefully.
“Why do you keep telling the Emperor that you can see something you can’t?” the Chief Courtier remonstrated with the three other officials in a room off the royal court.
“What do you mean?” asked the one with the lingerie obsession.
“Yes, we’re just saying what we see,” shrugged another.
“Don’t give me that!” the Chief Courtier said bitterly. “This is all some form of skullduggery. That Weaver has somehow tricked the Emperor and now you are all going along with this deception because you don’t want to rock the boat!”
“What boat?”
“I really don’t understand why you are so angry,” said the last adviser.
“You don’t?”
“No,” he half smiled. “What is the worst that can happen? If the Weaver really is a swindler, the Emperor will realize on the morning of the procession and promptly have him executed!”
“You think?” the Chief Courtier didn’t seem reassured.
“Yes, of course! The Weaver will turn up to the palace either empty handed or with garments that are not to the required standard, the Emperor will realize he has been failed and then punish the little oaf!”
“But he won’t have the outfit he desires?”
“He’s got hundreds of garments already,” pointed out the adviser. “He won’t be happy but I am sure his servants will find him a suitable outfit that placates him for the day at least. You worry too much!”
“I suppose so,” the Chief Courtier’s mood seemed brighter. “Yes, yes, perhaps. The whole situation is a bit strange but I guess you have a point. Maybe I was underestimating the Emperor? Or overestimating that damned Weaver?”
“Exactly!” agreed the adviser. “It is really nothing to get so uptight about!”
“Sirs?” a messenger appeared at the door.
“Yes?” the Chief Courtier turned to him.
“We have a visitor…Prince Charming on horseback. He has arrived at the palace gates asking to meet with the Emperor?”
“Grant him entry!” the Chief Courtier said without hesitation so the messenger disappeared. “Well, well! Prince Charming no less. Even the Emperor will be impressed by him. His daring deeds are legendary around the Realm!”
To be continued in ‘Prince Charming & The Emperor’s New Clothes Part II’…
Athon 