The King and the King's Squire

The young prince had been plated much too long. The ready pages ran forward, and with willing fingers, rid the young prince of his raven harness. They unbuckled and unriveted him until he stood before us in the close fitting quilted black silk that he wore beneath. Then he ran his hands through his curly black hair and took his place midway down the table. And when the chaplain had muttered a latin grace, we fell to work.