Just as all hope seemed to be lost, the old King rallied and rose from his sickbed. The first thing he did was attend a mass of thanksgiving before launching into a hearty meal of roasted chicken, fresh fruit, cheese and bread, all washed down with copious amounts of a dark, red wine. To everyone’s amazement, he summoned an impromptu concert where he danced with la duchesse du Linge and Princess Pirouette until the musicians grew weary of playing.
The next order of business was the governance of the kingdom. He closeted himself with his prime minister for several hours where he grabbed random pieces of paper from his desk and shouted orders at his mystified servant. “It’s high time we find a suitable husband for Princess Pirouette,” he said to Monsieur le premier ministre. “I want you to draw me up a list of names. Chop! Chop! Man! Do you not hear me?” Such was His Majesty’s impatience with his servant that he grabbed a crystal paperweight from his desk and hurled it at the poor unfortunate’s head.