Page 32 of Every Eligible Man

One hour later, the Grand Hall is packed to the rafters.

Word spread through the castle like wildfire overnight. The lady was seen chasing three masked strangers through the corridors. The lady emerged from an antechamber looking like she'd been ravaged by wolves. The lady acquired a ferret of unknown origin.

The nobility want answers. They also want entertainment.

I intend to provide both.

Royal Herald Bartholomew stands at the front of the room, clutching the sealed proclamation with hands that tremble slightly. Bartholomew is sixty-three years old. He's announced births, deaths, wars, and peace treaties. He's read aloud the wedding vows of three generations of royals.

He is not prepared for this.

I watch from my throne, Gerald curled in my lap, the boot and glove displayed on velvet pillows beside me.

"My lords and ladies," Bartholomew begins, voice steady through decades of practice, "I bear a proclamation from Lady Cinder, First of Her Name."

He breaks the seal. Unrolls the parchment. Reads the first line to himself.

I watch his face go grey.

"Go on," I say sweetly. "The kingdom awaits."

Bartholomew swallows.

"By royal decree of Lady Cinder, First of Her Name, all eligible men within the kingdom shall present themselves at the castle for inspection."

Murmurs ripple through the crowd. So far, so normal.

As he reads, more murmurs.

Boots? An unusual criterion, but acceptable.

He carries on.

There are a few confused looks. Two items? How peculiar.

"They shall submit to assessment by one," Bartholomew's voice wavers. "Ferret of uncertain temperament."

The hall erupts in whispers. I hold up Gerald, who hisses at the crowd like a tiny demon. Several nobles take a step back.

That's right. Fear the ferret.

"Those who pass these preliminary tests," Bartholomew continues, sweat breaking out on his brow, "shall then present their."

He coughs violently.

"Their male member for visual inspection by Her Ladyship."

Silence. Absolute, ringing silence.

Then chaos.

"She can't."

"Surely this is a jest."

"Did he say male member?"

"And tactile assessment if necessary!" Bartholomew shouts over the din, apparently committed to seeing this through to the bitter end. "Identifying features to include: substantial girth, upward curve, left-leaning curvature, distinctive bend, and." He squints at the parchment. "The kind of size where you think this is going to hurt and then it does but in the best possible way.'"