After so many years of watching a dog twitch and writhe as it slowly perishes the whole event becomes rather dull. This one is at least quiet; the headaches I get from the whining have become quite a nuisance. Another annoyance I have been burdened with takes the form of my wife; admittedly a reasonably good-looking form, at least from some perspectives. A few years younger than me, I wed her only to satisfy Humperdinck’s request that I marry to improve my image and reputation. An inane gesture I believed until he explained it was the only way he could bestow the title of Count upon me.
However she is beside the point, the only reason I spoke of her was due to the incident of her perfume bottle leaking and destroying many of the observations I have made in the last twenty years. It was during a rather rough carriage ride to the country to a place where a young woman, rumored to be the most beautiful in all of Florin, was supposedly residing. It was a rather dreary task I was enforced, however my Prince needed a wife if he were to rule and a pretty and dull girl would be rather ideal.
On arriving at the farm I asked about the cows for lack of a better idea to initiate conversation. And after hearing the two fat, dense couple sputter and fight I bade their daughter explain instead. A young girl of about seventeen emerged from the doorway. Unlike my wife who is always perfectly groomed and painted the girl’s hair was uncombed and her face had traces of grime. However through these faults I saw potential, for she had after all been voted in the top 20 most beautiful women and she was not yet at her prime.
As we now travel back to the castle I cannot remove the shadow of a smile that pulls at my lips despite this sopping wet book on my lap permeating a sickly sweet stench, my wife giggling about the ‘luscious farm boy’ and the constant jarring of my body as the carriage finds every blasted rut in the road.