"The king's brother doesn't have his head screwed on straight."

The speaker had no idea how close he actually was to the truth. In fact, Robert did not have his head screwed on quite right, and had not for several years, ever since a prank by a rather insolent fairy. I had the fortune (or perhaps misfortune would be the better term) of being present at the time, and was the only one other than Robert to know the story. It may as well be told now, as at has a rather direct bearing on the conversation at hand. But perhaps it will be best to start at the very beginning.

My name is Darian. Just Darian, nothing more. I'm not of high enough birth to have a surname. Well, that may or may not be true, and I doubt I'll ever learn which it is. Let's just say being left on the doorstep of a monastery does lead one to have doubts about the nobility of one's parentage. They were kind enough, however, to leave on my arm a leather bracelet inscribed with my name. So the monks called me Darian, until they got to know me, at which point they generally called me "you dirty little rat" or some similar epithet. I don't remember all the names they gave me (though I know there were many, some of which had no place in a house of God) because I left the monastery when I was eight years old. Several items of value, notably some silver chalices and candlesticks, left the monastery at approximately the same time. Naturally, I have no idea how that happened.

It was several years ago that I first met Robert. I was just hanging around the palace, at that point in time... literally. I was dangling from a pair of shackles a good ten feet up from the floor, and had been in that somewhat awkward position for a good twenty-four hours. Robert had come down to the dungeons for some errand of some sort-I found out later this was a highly unusual event, and therefore all the more fortunate for me-and happened upon me, and I suppose, being noble and all that, he found his conscience required him to make sure I deserved to be where I was. At any rate, I spun him a ridiculous sob story that only a naive lout would fall for-that said, he fell for it completely, and even aided in my escape. We have been fast friends ever since.

It will be necessary here to explain Robert's heritage, since unlike me, he is indeed of noble birth...well, in a sense. You see, his father was some highly placed noble during the early years of the reign of Her Majesty, Queen Elynia. His family was all high-born, going back as many generations as anyone could count, a tradition probably dating at least to the founding of the kingdom. Unfortunately, he seemed intent on overthrowing the genetic preening so carefully achieved...

There are two things which typically attract a high-born man to a women of lower station than himself: wealth or beauty. It can be said for Dalia, however, that she had neither of the qualities in great abundance. She was the serving girl of a merchant, a man of no great significance himself. She was fair-looking enough, but it wasn't as if men came from the ends of the earth to gaze upon her beauty. Actually, she would have been happy enough had any man come from the end of the street.

Enter Robert. Not my Robert, but his father, Robert Sr. (The family was very creative where names were concerned.) He was passing through the village where she was staying, and, strangely enough, decided to spend the night in the merchant's home. Naturally he met Dalia there. The merchant thought little enough of it, at first, but when Robert visited his house for the fourth time in as many months, he began to grow a bit suspicious. He was not the only one. Robert's mother had sensed (as every mother can) that something was amiss, and his dogged assertions that there was nothing only confirmed her opinion on the matter. When he finally did come forward with his confession, five months later, it was worse than she had ever dreamed. Not only a commoner, but a serving girl whose freedom would need to be purchased from a lowly merchant! Furthermore, Robert seemed intent on marrying the girl. His mother did the only sensible thing a mother could do: she forbade him to ever see the girl again, or risk alienation by the entire family. Just in case he was tempted to disobey the words of maternal "advice," she hired a guard to tail him and make sure he stayed well away from any serving ladies.

Unfortunately for his mother, Robert had never specified a name or a place for his romantic interest, which made keeping track of him rather difficult. It might have been possible for Robert to meet with Dalia right under his bodyguard's nose...but Robert Sr., like his son, practiced about as much in the way of subtlety as creativity. He ran off one night, making a daring escape from his own castle and riding halfway across the country to join the girl he loved. They were married within the day.

True to her word, his mother never spoke to him again. I do not think it made much difference to him. He had never much valued his connections, and severing them for the sake of his love was all too easy. The couple was quite poor, of course (in his haste to "escape" Robert had forgotten to take much in the way of material possessions) but they were happy. But few such stories have truly happy endings, and this one came to its conclusion rather suddenly with the birth of their first son-for Dalia died in the moment he took his first breath.

And thus Robert (Junior) came into the world. Being the child of a legally wedded couple, he was technically entitled to his father's rank, title, wealth, and station. But if you think his family was prepared to give him any of that, well, you're duller than Robert was. However, fate had other plans.

Whether someone can be destined to social position, I do not know. But if it is possible, Robert Sr. was, for as the queen was riding by one day, she caught sight of him, and for some reason (perhaps he was handsomer in those days) she took a liking to him. She wanted him as one of her stable boys- and what Queen Elynia wanted, she got. And she got it fast, or someone was likely to hang for it.

It was at that point in time that the queen started spending a lot of time on horseback-and more in the stables. Robert took no notice, at first, for he was a simple fellow, but things built to the point where even he could no longer ignore it. Naturally, by this time the queen had already found out his history-and she had seemed particularly interested by the fact that his birth was higher than his station might suggest.

The king died a few months later, a suspicious case of poisoning, I believe. Naturally they never found the perpetrator. After a suitable time had passed (a week), the grief-stricken queen was happily re-married- to Robert! (He has told me he was given the choice to marry her or die. Seen that way, his decision seems to have been the only logical one to make. Though where Queen Elynia was concerned, the line between marriage and death was a thin one indeed. Seven of her husbands had met the same end before Robert, and I believe he only narrowly avoided their gruesome fate-but that is another story.)

Robert's family (those who still remembered him) suddenly became some of the most beneficent and forgiving people of the land. Of course, none of that they had said about Robert years ago would stand now. They understood that he had been young and ignorant, and were fully prepared to welcome him back into their family. At this point, however, he was no longer prepared to welcome them back, and he sent back their invitations unopened...or burned them, when the mood struck him.

Queen Elynia was quite pleased with her new consort, for a time. He even gave her what none of the others had been able to: a son, who they named Rupert for the sake of alliteration and some great uncle of the queen. The queen loved the boy from the moment he was born, and doted on him to no end...somewhat to the chagrin of his older brother, only two years old at the time.

They tell me sibling rivalry is a common phenomenon. But Robert and Rupert never had what could be termed rivalry: it was more along the lines of downright hatred. As Rupert was the queen's son, he generally had the upper hand, and none of Robert (Sr.) 's influence could protect his son from her wrath. Thus the firstborn son of the king-who in most other countries would have been the honored heir to the throne-spent many a night sleeping in the cold darkness of a small garret, or performing the menial tasks which normally fell to the servants. The natural result of this balance of power was that Robert grew up humble but resentful, while Rupert grew into one of the most arrogant and spoiled prigs ever to sit on the throne. And sit on the throne he would-for by the ancient and unquestionable laws of our kingdom, the right to the throne runs in the blood-and thus is not transferable by marriage, unless a bloodline has died entirely. Therefore, although Robert was the eldest, Rupert would succeed to the throne when his mother passed away.

The passing of Queen Elynia took place under very interesting circumstances. I was 20 years old at the time; Rupert was 24, and eager for the throne. I remember the story well, for it trickled down even to where I was at the time-an orderly in the palace kitchens (this was a year after I first met Robert). The queen had ordered a huge banquet prepared that night, and the noise of the celebration filled the palace. Evidently, the queen at one point stood to make a toast, and the whole hall was silent while she sang the praises of her son, who was looking surly as the tailor had told him that morning it would be impossible for him to prepare another costume in time for the evening (Rupert's complaint against the original being that blue really was so "last week.") The queen mistakenly picked up her husband's glass, and drained it to the very dregs. When someone pointed out her error, she grew very pale and quiet, and then said that she felt ill and would retire early for the night. She was found dead the next morning; the doctor proclaimed it a case of poisoning, and at Rupert's bequest, searched the kingdom high and low for the evil man who had somehow had the cunning to poison the king's glass, and not the queen's.

Robert Sr. and Jr. were of course, quickly discarded. There was no law for what was to be done with kings who outlived the rightful ruler, and Rupert simply dealt with the matter by putting the pair out on the streets. And that is where I come into the story, for having no desire to remain in the palace while Rupert reigned, I welcomed them into my home.

And that is when the trouble began...