Heirs have problems, too. In fact, since William the Conquerer they’ve had to worry about how to overthrow their sovereign so as to speed up the process of ascending to the throne.
Then there’s the fear of being poisoned by jealous relatives, and dealing with people who think it’s alright to make you sit on the grass while watching polo. The indignity of it all.
“No amount of history can make up for the fact that I am wearing a dress. The humiliation is so much that I can’t even bear to move a limb. So instead, I will just lie here and be carried back to my chamber.”
“Someone play a jig so that I may dance.”
“Look, all of you. Look at how well I dance. I command you to look at me!”
“Yeah, those are for me.”
“I asked father to wear a white shirt so that mine would stand out. It’s not as if any hair prevents him from hearing.”
“Let’s send you to the tower for thinking you were important enough to greet me here.”
“Taking this thing back with me, simply because I CAN.”
After they said I couldn’t.
“Too irritated to even look at any of you. Put me back on that flying bed filled with an endless supply of libations.”
“This is what we traveled nearly a day for? This right here? With the rain and the people with nothing but flowers to give us?”
“Why am I sitting on the grass. This is the sport of kings, so why on earth am I sitting on the grass? Where is my throne? The portable gold one with velvet cushions?”
“No, Catherine. We’re going this way.”
“Ooh.” crushes butterfly. “Give me another.”
“What a dreadful attempt to make me smile. Burn it.”
“It concerns me that you two aren’t at all worried about an uprising. Why must I look out for enemy attacks while you wave like fools?”
That is all. You’re dismissed.