In Florin, the king’s word has always been taken seriously. Even when the king was at his most insane, the people respected his command. But despite the occasional detriment of his own family, justice was always done.
Humperdinck sat in the dungeon, keeping himself occupied by counting the links in his chains with an enormous frown and shooing away the odd spider.
“Ah, kudos upon kudos, your ineffable highness,” congratulated Vizzini. “Now… if we can attend to the little matter of my payment, I’ll be on my way.”
“And who might you be?” asked the king.
“I am the enterprising marauder who exposed the scoundrel you just jailed, heir to a long line of Sicilian nobility and the brains behind all manner of espionagical brilliance. And you, your lordship, owe me a healthy sum for a task I performed last week.”
“What task is that, exactly?”
“As I just explained, your son the prince hired me to abscond with his fiancé!”
“I have a son?”
“It’s quite probable.”
“We must be reunited! Bring him to me at once.”