Day One-Seventy-Eight: Manly Me

Yeeeeep. That's… that's the picture The Baron drew of me. My gods, my chin is HUGE

But enough about that. I'm really not sure how to respond. On to something else? On to something else - like the plot. The plot thickens, diary. It's so thick that even my mom's oatmeal goop wouldn't be able to compare. Thick.

As instructed, I went back to visit The Baron this morning and see what was up. No more duties with the prince, it turns out, but something much closer to his original intentions. Yes, tomorrow I begin spying on Driscol the Count. It's about as official an order as orders can get without revealing that there's a spy in the castle, which I guess… in a sense… isn't official at all…?

ANYWAY

When I came into his office, now hole-free, The Baron ushered me into the chair in front of his desk and offered me a bit of spiced mead. He told me I needn't worry about getting a little drunk, 'cause I'd have the rest of the day off, which is just plain awesome, y'know? So I spent most of today in bed. Huzzah!

First, though, I had to answer his question from the previous day:

"What do you think of my drawings?"

"Oh. I figured you would, y'know, ask about Driscol, and…"

"That?" The Baron waved the suggestion away. "Later. Satiate the artist, Dragomir!"

"Um. They're very nice, m'lord. You're good at drawin' stuff."

The Baron narrowed his eyebrows. "You don't sound very convincing, Dragomir. Did you not like my picture of you? I tried to make it as true to life as possible."

True to life? My neck was thicker than an elephant's unmentionables! "Of course I did! It's, uh, hanging on my wall now! Yeah!"

"Is that so. So if I were to send a royal guard to check, he'd find the picture pinned to your wall?"

"Y… yeah." Truth be told I used the piece of parchment to blow my nose last night. That's all that white stuff. Probably thought it was HIS work, didn't you?

"Framed?"

"Well… no, m'lord, I haven't had time for that."

"I suppose that's fair."

"And I'm poor. Can't afford a frame."

"Couldn't your wife make you one? She is the head carpenter, is she not?"

"Ah… well, yeah, but we don't have glass to put it behind, m'lord."

"Ah. That is also fair. I will have a complete frame sent down to you. It will be big enough for the picture of the dodo, as well."

I bit my lip. I used the dodo doodle to wipe my butt this morning. We're short on toilet paper, dammit! "That's… so very kind of you, m'lord."

"And I will come down, personally, to inspect the results. I hope you're not fibbing, Dragomir!"

I get the feeling The Baron is an under-appreciated wannabe artist, trapped in a bureaucrat's body. I'd feel sorry for the guy, but now I have to find somebody who can re-draw both sketches! Or do it myself! Fuck my life, as it were!

Not right now, though. Once we were done with that silly interlude (learned that word from Robert, I did) The Baron moved on to more pressing matters, and asked me the question he SHOULD have asked first:

"What was Lord Driscol doing during my lesson with Logan? I brought you in to watch him so I could focus on the lesson and not look suspicious."

Easy answer, and I grinned as I gave him my first piece of intel. "He kept looking at a piece of paper!"

The Baron sat forward. "A piece of paper? What kind of paper?"

"Well, I guess it was parchment, actually, now that you mention it, kinda yellow - "

"No, no, no. What was on the paper? Did you see?"

"Nope!"

Silence. The quieter the room got, the more my confidence ebbed away.

"So… he was looking at a piece of paper. It could have been anything."

"Y… yes."

"I endured his stupidity…" The Baron stood and turned to the wall, his arms crossed behind his back. "… and forced the king to make Driscol attend the lesson… and went through a bucketload of red tape… all so you could confirm… that he looked at a piece of paper."

I suddenly felt very small. It was the same feeling I got back home, as a child, whenever I did something stupid and my dad caught me. If The Baron was anything like my dad, a hearty spanking was soon to follow. "He… he looked at it numerous times, m'lord…"

"Is that so."

"Yes, and…" I took off my cap and played with the spikes nervously. "And… like… he kept his hand in his pocket whenever he wasn't looking at it, so… it must have… been… important - "

The Baron turned back to me, and even though his glasses obscured his eyes I could tell they were blazing. He brought his hands down on his desk, curled back his lips, and unleashed this angry retort:

"WELL DONE, DRAGOMIR!"

I was halfway under the desk by this point, so when I jolted to a halt I also smacked my head on the wood. Ow.

The Baron laughed and helped me up. He hadn't expected me to catch anything, it turned out - Driscol's a slick customer. The diversion into the dining hall had given The Baron an excuse to tear Driscol away from other business, as well, which The Baron had on good authority was very important. The paper, he suspected, must have been somehow involved, though in what way neither of us knew.

"So what's our next move, m'lord?" I said 'our' because I was totally getting into the spy stuff, and I still am.

"Your next move, Dragomir," he said, moving to a cupboard, "is to keep an eye on that bastard. And you'll do that by wearing this and following him around for the next two days. I hope it fits."

And it does, diary. Oh, does it ever.

…

(but what is iiiiiiiiit, you won't know 'til tomorroooooow)

(suspeeeeeeeense)

Sincerely,

Dragomir the Royal Guard BAH, I FUCKED UP THE SUSPENSE