Day Two-Forty-Three: Edmund has joined the party!

Good and possibly bad news, diary! After his performance during Princess Celine's dance recital, Edmund has been PROMOTED! He's now serving as the king's personal bard! Why's that good and why's that bad? Both should be SO DAMNED OBVIOUS!

It's a good thing to stand out in King Jeffrey's court if you want promotions. Jeffrey tends to like outspoken people. Kierkegaard the Jester is a good example of that in play: he's the only person in the castle who will, on a regular basis, openly insult Jeffrey. The king seems to enjoy that about the penguin, and he keeps Kierkegaard with him at all times. Last I checked, the jester has better quarters than virtually anyone else in the castle.

It's also a baaaaaad thing to stand out in King Jeffrey's court, because he gets bored easily. What amused him one day might irritate him the next, and given his unpredictability of late, boredom could end in a sloppy death. I don't wanna see Edmund get killed, personally. He's a nice guy.

I'm not entirely sure HOW he got the spot of head bard, but he more or less described it as such:

"T'was mere happenstance, that launched me into light sublime;
Methinks it had much to do with mine penchant for rhyme.
All I know is that of the bards he did or didst not dismember,
I, of all who came before, was the one Jeffrey could remember."

Edmund was too busy counting syllables on his fingers to explain properly. I think the GIST of it is that Jeffrey remembered my favourite bard from his last visit. Hence, head bard. (I bet it has more to do with his delicious-lookin' chocolate skin than his singing talents. Jeffrey likes his retinue to stand out.)

What does head bard entail, exactly? As far as I know, not a hell of a lot. Edmund would normally have to follow Jeffrey around, but Jeffrey's spending most of his time in his tower these days, so Edmund is more or less going about business as usual for a bard. Whenever the king has a special announcement Edmund's also expected to be on hand to play the king's theme music, which, again, has only happened once so far.

… yeah. Theme music. The king now has theme music. Apparently he wrote it himself. I know you wanna hear the lyrics, diary, and I copied a snippet of them down JUST for you. Imagine this little ditty accompanied by lots of brass instruments and the booming voices of the king's bannermen:

'Oh Jeffrey,
Our dear Jeffrey,
We love you so much,
You are so damn awesome,
Because you're the king
And we're obligated to love you
But we would anyway
Because damn you're sweeeeeet!

Oh Jeffrey!
Kind Sir Jeffrey!
That ain't even a typo
'cause you are so kind
But you're also a king
And you are therefore awesome
Like we said in the last stanzaaaaa
One more line to make it eveeeeen!

Oh Jeffrey!
Our Lord Jeffrey!
We owe you our liiiiives!
From that time you killed Driiiiscol!
That heathenous swine!
You say that's not a word?
It's totally now a word
Because you said iiiiiit!

Oh Jeffrey!
Your family's so cool!
Your wife is damned hot
Your son is so slick and so curlyyyy
Your future daughter can kill anything
And there's somebody else in there
But you can't remember who it is
Oh right, the dancing kiiiiiid!

Oh Jeffrey!'

It carries on for a while from there. I'll stop now. I've never heard such a bad song in my entire life. You wouldn't believe how difficult it is for the singers to make that jumble of nonsense words sound melodic.

Or maybe you would. Actually, looking back on the lyrics, it's easy to believe. Yuck.

His duties to Jeffrey aside, Edmund has to suffer something worse: the company of Kierkegaard. You may not remember, diary, but the two know each other from days past, before Kierkegaard was the court jester. Edmund isn't too happy sharing any of his time with Kierkegaard, because, well, it's Kierkegaard. He's a little asshole. And he likes to inflict his presence on others.

I learned a little more about our penguin overlord during a quick meal in the Beefiary. Edmund told me that he met Kierkegaard while he was on a ferry from one city in the Imperium to another. Neither of them particularly liked each other from the start, but Kierkegaard latched onto Edmund once the ferry landed. They travelled together as bard and performer for almost a year -

- until Edmund's incessant rhyming got them hauled into jail in a place called Brewin. They managed to break out, thanks to some super-strong prisoner Edmund calls Traveller (the hell kinda name is that?), but Kierkegaard ditched 'em both and vanished. Edmund hadn't seen him again until his visit to our fair castle a few months back.

(Apparently Edmund also got ditched by Traveller. And a platypus. There's definitely a lack of appreciation for rhyming in the Imperium, lemme tell ya. Poor guy.)

Edmund couldn't tell me much about Kierkegaard beyond their travels. He's a secretive little dude. When they weren't working as an entertainment duo to earn money, he either insulted Edmund or kept to himself. He's still big on the insulting thing, now that Edmund's here, though he's also taken up physical bullying, as well. Mostly of the forky-stabby-in-your-butty kind. I feel Edmund's pain on THAT, lemme tell you, and often when I try to sit down.

Anyway. Not much more I can share on that score. When I wasn't chatting with Edmund in the Beefiary, I was helping the rest of the guards and soldiers… er… push around the Matriarch. King's orders. He said it was too hot out for the queen to pedal on her own.

Mercifully, the queen decided not to move anywhere today. So our efforts were constrained to a single, violent push. The king refused to let us stop until we'd moved the Matriarch at least a liiiiiittle bit. I'm fairly certain Queen Daena gave her pedals a tap so we could claim victory, bless her heart.

Enough writing. My arms are like rubber. Time for some board games with Libby. (Seriously, the stuff she comes up with is a lot of fun!) Hmm, maybe I should invite Edmund over to play?

Sincerely,

Dragomir the Guard