63
A Better King
Kastler stood motionless, allowing his people to fuss over the final touches to his attire. He frowned at the worn look of his best tunic as his manservant cut off a loose thread at the shoulder. He squared his shoulders. When he was king, he’d finally be provided with clothes appropriate to his standing.
Nodding his thanks, he turned and walked from his rooms, practicing his stately walk. Kings did not run. Others ran to serve the king. He frowned, pausing to look at the servant who helped him.
“I haven’t noticed you before. Where is, um… my usual servant?” Kastler cursed internally at being unable to remember the servant’s name. Then again, there were so many of them, it wasn’t like he could possibly be expected to remember all of them.
The servant gazed up at him.
