Kat stalked irritably into the throne room. She was not best pleased.
"Really, Father?"
"Really, Katherina, can you not find something more appropriate to wear?" the king said, frowning.
"Really, Father?"
"I know you have an irrational taste for crude clothing -"
"- practical clothing, but that's not the -"
"- but surely even you can appreciate the need to look your best for such a guest as Prince Beauregard."
"Prince Beauregard."
"Yes, Beauregard," the king said, shifting uncomfortably. "He is handsome, honorable, charming... willing to overlook your, er, peculiarities... I cannot fathom your lack of interest."
"Shall I count the ways?" Kat snapped. "He is dull, timid, and 'overlooks' my 'peculiarities' because he's incapable of seeing anything in me except what a painted canvas could show. Oh, and he's a dangerously irrelevant distraction in this moment of national crisis."
"Crisis?" the king repeated, blinking. "Oh, sweetie, I would hardly call it a crisis..."
"Ogres, border. Miller, dead. Crisis."
"I am sure the generals can deal with that, sweetheart."
Kat's "Right" was slathered with enough sarcasm for even the king to notice. Unfortunately, he chose to press on.
"We can discuss this later. For the present time, please you return to your quarters. Perhaps the ladies-in-waiting can make you presentable in time to ... Katherina!"
She was gone.
"Really, Father?"
"Really, Katherina, can you not find something more appropriate to wear?" the king said, frowning.
"Really, Father?"
"I know you have an irrational taste for crude clothing -"
"- practical clothing, but that's not the -"
"- but surely even you can appreciate the need to look your best for such a guest as Prince Beauregard."
"Prince Beauregard."
"Yes, Beauregard," the king said, shifting uncomfortably. "He is handsome, honorable, charming... willing to overlook your, er, peculiarities... I cannot fathom your lack of interest."
"Shall I count the ways?" Kat snapped. "He is dull, timid, and 'overlooks' my 'peculiarities' because he's incapable of seeing anything in me except what a painted canvas could show. Oh, and he's a dangerously irrelevant distraction in this moment of national crisis."
"Crisis?" the king repeated, blinking. "Oh, sweetie, I would hardly call it a crisis..."
"Ogres, border. Miller, dead. Crisis."
"I am sure the generals can deal with that, sweetheart."
Kat's "Right" was slathered with enough sarcasm for even the king to notice. Unfortunately, he chose to press on.
"We can discuss this later. For the present time, please you return to your quarters. Perhaps the ladies-in-waiting can make you presentable in time to ... Katherina!"
She was gone.
