The young lord lounged on his duvet.
“Bring me another,” he said to a servant.
The man scurried away and the young lord sighed. How tiring it was ruling over his tiny kingdom. He yawned and stretched, sinking deeper into the pillows and blankets cradled around him.
The servant returned, a golden basin filled with raw fish in his hands. He fed the morsels to the young lord, hands shaking as he struggled not to drip or drop anything on the gold-embroidered, silver-fringed finery of the young lord’s favorite day bed.
“Have I any appointments this eve?” the young lord asked.
“Your… your birthday, excellency.”
The young lord sighed again. “Ah, yes. That tiring affair.”
“It cannot be forestalled, your corpulence.”
“I suppose not,” the young lord said. “Very well. It is good to allow the people to view me in my splendor from time to time.”