The next morning, Zelda of the Moon begged her father to arrange for a feast to be held in Zant's honor.
"What good will it do to make him feel welcome?" the king asked.
"After all father," said the princess, "he is still our guest, as well as a man of nobility. There is no harm in it. And perhaps paying tribute to him will stir some kindness in his heart and help him reconsider what he asks."
The king knew there was no chance of that happening, but gave orders for a feast to be held regardless. He had long since learned that Zelda of the Moon had reasons for all of her requests, no matter how strange they might be. He only hoped the ones this time would be helpful.
Every chef cooked their finest dishes. The most luscious fruits and vegetables were picked from the royal gardens and orchards. Ducks were roasted and suckling pigs were cooked on spits until their meat was delicious and tender. Rich desserts were baked and, to top it all off, the finest wines were opened.
The guests at the feast were fearful and silent, however if Zant noticed, he certainly didn't mind. He steadily ate his way through every course and had his goblet refilled again and again and again.
When the last course had been served, Zant stood up and looked blearily around the room. His eyes were unfocused and he swayed slightly. If he had not proven himself able to handle twice as much wine as he drank at the feast, the guests would have assumed him to be drunk. He grinned and, without any warning, fell backwards into his chair and began to gently snore.
"Well!" said the king.
"Father," said Zelda of the Moon, "perhaps we may all leave the banquet hall and let King Zant rest in peace? He is sleeping so soundly that attempting to wake him will surely do nothing but put him in an ill temper."
"Perhaps you are right," said the king, furrowing his brow. He and the queen left the room, with their daughters and all of the guests still awake following suite. Zelda of the Moon, however, fell to the back and was able to remain in the banquet hall without notice. Now it was only she and the slumbering Zant. He showed no signs of waking, and Zelda of the Moon knew what she must do.
It was most fortunate that the banquet hall was decorated with many suits of armor, Zelda of the Moon reflected as she reached behind one and retrieved the dagger she had smuggled there. Her body shook as she approached the sleeping magician, but her heart and her dagger held steady. She would let no one threaten her family. Zant thought he could bully and frighten her sister, but she was going to put a stop to that. He was just a snake, and Zelda of the Moon had proved it. She smiled faintly at the memory of sneaking the bottle into the kitchen and emptying it all into the pitcher of wine. There was no danger to anyone else, of course. None of the other guests noticed a difference, save for the wine being a bit creamier than usual.
Except for Zant of course, thought Zelda of the Moon.
no subject
The next morning, Zelda of the Moon begged her father to arrange for a feast to be held in Zant's honor.
"What good will it do to make him feel welcome?" the king asked.
"After all father," said the princess, "he is still our guest, as well as a man of nobility. There is no harm in it. And perhaps paying tribute to him will stir some kindness in his heart and help him reconsider what he asks."
The king knew there was no chance of that happening, but gave orders for a feast to be held regardless. He had long since learned that Zelda of the Moon had reasons for all of her requests, no matter how strange they might be. He only hoped the ones this time would be helpful.
Every chef cooked their finest dishes. The most luscious fruits and vegetables were picked from the royal gardens and orchards. Ducks were roasted and suckling pigs were cooked on spits until their meat was delicious and tender. Rich desserts were baked and, to top it all off, the finest wines were opened.
The guests at the feast were fearful and silent, however if Zant noticed, he certainly didn't mind. He steadily ate his way through every course and had his goblet refilled again and again and again.
When the last course had been served, Zant stood up and looked blearily around the room. His eyes were unfocused and he swayed slightly. If he had not proven himself able to handle twice as much wine as he drank at the feast, the guests would have assumed him to be drunk. He grinned and, without any warning, fell backwards into his chair and began to gently snore.
"Well!" said the king.
"Father," said Zelda of the Moon, "perhaps we may all leave the banquet hall and let King Zant rest in peace? He is sleeping so soundly that attempting to wake him will surely do nothing but put him in an ill temper."
"Perhaps you are right," said the king, furrowing his brow. He and the queen left the room, with their daughters and all of the guests still awake following suite. Zelda of the Moon, however, fell to the back and was able to remain in the banquet hall without notice. Now it was only she and the slumbering Zant. He showed no signs of waking, and Zelda of the Moon knew what she must do.
It was most fortunate that the banquet hall was decorated with many suits of armor, Zelda of the Moon reflected as she reached behind one and retrieved the dagger she had smuggled there. Her body shook as she approached the sleeping magician, but her heart and her dagger held steady. She would let no one threaten her family. Zant thought he could bully and frighten her sister, but she was going to put a stop to that. He was just a snake, and Zelda of the Moon had proved it. She smiled faintly at the memory of sneaking the bottle into the kitchen and emptying it all into the pitcher of wine. There was no danger to anyone else, of course. None of the other guests noticed a difference, save for the wine being a bit creamier than usual.
Except for Zant of course, thought Zelda of the Moon.