Van did not think arranged marriage was "noble" at all. He decided that the best action would be to get thrown out and find his way home. As they walked into the throne room, Van hunched over and crossed his eyes. Morley looked at him suspiciously.
"What are you doing?" He asked in a hoarse whisper.
"What do you mean?" Van replied, giving a loud wet snort. He looked around himself in what he hoped was the overawed gawking of a simpleton, then began to gaze in genuine wonder.
The space was enormous, the ceiling made up of several soaring arches whose gargantuan trunks terminated in the ground near the walls. The windows were small and high, but light was provided by several voraciously burning torches, with lavish tapestries depicting scenes from legend spaced between. Seated in chairs were hundreds of gaudily dressed nobles. They had been talking before, but now turned to watch him in silence. Van felt some color rush to his face.
And in the front of the room there sat the king and princess. Van ran his gaze over her. She was not unpleasant looking, but she was not pretty enough to tempt him.
At his approach, the royals stood and walked off their dais. Morley elbowed him and knelt. He could have just said something, Van thought, following suit.
The princess stopped just few feet in front of Van. Time to get out of here, he thought.
"Princess!" he cried, and without being prompted, grabbed her hand and gave it a wet, slobbery kiss.
The king cried out. The nobles gasped. A lady fainted. Morley stared daggers at Van, who wondered if he had gone too far.