Is This Apocalypse Necessary? - Wizard of Yurt - 6 by C. Dale Brittain Page A

good-hearted, reckless, perennially cheerful young man he had been when he assumed the throne, so easy-going that it sometimes seemed that the only thing to stir his passion was his stud stables. His mother focused on the need for a royal heir to the kingdom; I kept thinking instead that he ought to become more sober and regal—more like his father, except that his father had already been very old when I knew him. A nagging voice in the back of my mind liked to point out that I hadn't been any more mature when I was Paul's age, but I had an answer to that one: I'd been a brand-new graduate from the wizards' school, whereas Paul was a king.
    "The ring was supposed to be a secret," he brought out. "A splendid secret."
    Through my curtain of roses I could see Gwennie stiffen. "Shall I be the first, sire," she said in a formal and artificial voice, "to wish you and the Princess Margareta joy?"

    "No, no, no," said Paul quickly. "I'm sorry, Gwennie. I'm going at this altogether wrong." He took her arm and dropped it again. "But you don't need to worry about Margareta."
    She raised one eyebrow quizzically. "Then what do I need to worry about?"
    Paul floundered for a second, then threw himself resolutely onto his knees at her feet. "Gwendolyn," he said in a high voice that didn't sound anything like him, "Gwennie, dearest, I want to ask you to be my queen.
    The ring, this ring," fumbling it out of his pocket, "is a symbol of the love and harmony we shall share together." After a moment he added, as if reciting a lesson, "A diamond, the hardest of all the minerals, stands for the permanence of our bond."
    Gwennie seemed unable to speak. Paul rose to his feet and dusted off his knees. "Here, go on, put it on your finger," he said in his normal voice.
    Gwennie's hand closed around the ring but she did not put it on. "Glad that's over!" he continued conversationally. "I'm sure you're surprised.
    After all, you've doubtless loved me for years, but you believed I thought of you as just the castle constable and my oldest chum."
    Gwennie started to say something but Paul was still speaking, and she drew back a step without interrupting. Her lips narrowed into a straight line I would have found ominous, but the king wasn't paying attention.
    "Didn't you ever wonder why I never married any of the young women who've been thrown at me?" He sounded cheerful now, confident of the answer she had not yet given. "I realized a long time ago that none of them could ever be the same comfortable companion you've always been. And yet it was obvious I couldn't very well marry my own cook's daughter! And I didn't want to insult you by asking you to be my mistress. So I thought I might be like Father, who didn't marry anybody until he was so old he should have been a grandfather! In the meantime you and I could still be friends, and by the time we were old maybe no one would care anymore if we did get married."
    From my window I could see a furious red working its way up Gwennie's cheeks. Paul didn't notice, and I had a feeling that my suddenly shouting out to him that he was doing this entirely wrong, and had to stop before he made it even worse, wouldn't help the situation anyway.
    "So you're probably wondering why I'm asking you now. Too surprised to say anything?" he added, as though realizing for the first time that she was standing stiff and silent. "Well, I've decided that Mother has a point, I really do need an heir, and besides I've always liked kids myself. So I concluded it probably wasn't a good idea to wait too long if I was going to marry you eventually anyway. Then I had an idea: I can ennoble you! The royal chancellor over in Caelrhon just retired after serving two kings for years and years, and King Lucas gave him a patent of nobility as a reward for his faithful service. So I decided if I did the same for you, then nobody could throw your parentage up at us. Would you rather be a countess or a duchess—before, of course, becoming