A Most Charming Prince

Fifteen: Dark Night of His Despair, Part Two

Our prince lolled unconscious on the floor, his magnificent hair splayed around his head like a halo.

Screams.

In a fair fight, Répoute and his son didn't stand a chance against such a gallant knight as our prince. But he resorted to the dirty trick of knocking him out from behind with a beer tankard, the kind of thing Nigel would have seen coming, if he'd been there. He wasn't there, though (more on this cowardly behavior later).

With the prince out for the count, Il Répoute shoved unhappy son and furious future daughter-in-law out the door. The horses had to be saddled (and pillowed), and the stable hand set about doing so at broadsword point as Rebec declared loudly she would smash the patriarchy and Seth blubbered piteously into his sleeves.

They galloped off, Répoute carrying Rebec on his horse, minutes later.

In the brothel, Madame fought back her girls—each vying to be the knight's personal nurse, and fetched a pitcher of water to splash on his Michelangelo sculpted face. He came to, sputtering and wiping his eyes and raked his hands through the thick, black, silky waves that tended tighten to turn to curls in high humidity, but was otherwise inner-thigh weakening hair. Several girls hit the floor.

"Where is the blackguard? I'll cut him to ribbons, defeat him in mortal combat, abuse him with scurrilous language, I'll—"

"He's gone," said Madame.

"Gone?" The prince stood. "Nigel, my mail and sword. Nigel? Father, where have you got off to?"

"He's gone, too."

"It can't be!" It didn't take long for the prince run up the stairs, tear through his room and few belongings and determine that his newly found father had not only deserted him in his hour of need, but had actually absconded with his precious family heirlooms. "He took the jewels. I suppose they were his, and yet...Mother, I don't understand."

"Oh, dear." And to think she had nearly danced the kipples with him on the stairs. "It's time you knew the truth, my boy. Nigel is not your real father."

"By my faith," he whispered, staggering. "I will avenge your honor. But more importantly right now, where is the maiden?"

"I'm afraid she was kidnapped by Il Répoute to marry that simpering offspring of his—and no innocent youth is he. Why I fear for the girl joined to that fam—wait one farking minute! I know who she looks like! The spitting image of Queen Mathilde drowned with the entire royal line and the king eighteen years ago. In fact, it was not far from here—eastward, close to that despot's summer house. You know, I was nurse to the Queen's babes, suckled all the wee ones at my breast. I'm a hyper-lactater, I could have fed an army back then."

Delilah touched her arm. "You don't suppose...the young one who was barely talking, called Anne Phoebe-Anne, she would be about the right age now..."

Madame squeaked and clutched the prince, horror in her eyes. "It could be! We must do something. Save the girl!"

"Nay, good lady," he said. He shook his head, defeat crowning his gorgeous hair. "This...this is the night of my darkest despair. I have lost all. Heirlooms, the chance to save a damsel in distress and my destiny. All. Let me wallow in my helpless misery as required by all tightly-constructed plots structures."

He bowed his head. Madame sobbed, Delilah sniffled and all the ladies in hearing range silently pumped their fists or gave each other high-fives. The man would certainly need to drown his sorrows at the brothel.

"But," Madame whispered, "the house of Il Répoute, it's just—"

"Did you say house of ill repute?"

"No, I said, eel ray pootah. The leader of the land since the king died."

"I've traversed the blackest night of my hero's journey and am ready to return to the fight. My horse!" he bellowed. His horse heard him and threw on the saddle himself, then kicked down his stall.

The prince, with a flick of his wrist, dressed in his chainmail, buckled on his sword, buffed his helmet with a swipe of his clean sleeve, and in a single bound, he descended the stairs, exited the brother and mounted his horse (don't ask, just suspend disbelief). "Destiny awaits me at the house of Eel Ray-pootah! Where hides the villain?"

"Take the road east until you see a mini-palace. It's his! Godspeed and good luck!" Madame cried from the balcony.

His stallion reared, neighing. The sun lit on the prince's regal form, blinding. And he gritted his pearly white teeth, amazing. The sound of his charging stallion clattered in the brothel ladies' ears.

"Wait a minute. Wasn't today the day the knight was supposed to fulfill all our wildest dreams?" asked Belle.

Baited pause.

"Horses!" the ladies began shouting as they clawed past one another to get to the stable. "Hitch the horses to the carriages!"

*** Those ladies have their priorities all straightened out like ducklings in a row! ***