The Book of the Courtier

"I shall challenge that man who pointed his partizan at me!"



"Oooh, me?" The guard looks up. "May I bisect this villain, milord?"

"No! No, Ser Artegall. No fighting in the reception hall, Iachimo. And not with my guard captain."

"Sorry, milord!"

"He's too valuable."

"Right!"

"And he could probably also squash you like an insect."

"Perhaps I should go on some great adventure, milord, and bring your daughter along!"

"Oh?" Viscia raises an eyebrow.

"Some fresh air and exercise would do her all sorts of good, I imagine! Give her some perspective on life outside the crenelations of court!"

"Hmm. Well, it couldn't hurt. Perhaps you could match her with some sort of Lumpkin or Trog."

"Is she somehow misshapen, milord?"

"Oh, no, no. She is estimated one of the fairest ladies at court. My good looks are preserved in her."

"I am sure!"

"She's just a little, uh..."

Crash



"DAD, I'M TIRED OF FRIGGIN EMBROIDERING"



"A little firebreathing.

Good morning, Esme."



"Hi!"



Esme Viscia stands in the doorway. She is quite lovely.

"Who's this bumpkin-looking fellow, dad? Another one of your blockbrained suitors? What's that, like, 5? This week?"