“He wore what!” Shouted the old King.
“He wore white, Your Majesty,” answered the Chamberlain.
“What color was his surcoat?”
“It was white.”
“What color his waistcoat? His shirt? His wig?”
“They were all white, Your Majesty.”
The old King began to sputter. “The effrontery! The gall! Only princes of the blood may wear white at court! How dare he?” The rose from his chair and wandered over to the fireplace in his bedroom. “I suppose his shoes were white too!”
“No, Your Majesty, they were black- black patent leather with gold buckles. Uhm, his hose was white too.”
“Gold buckles on his shoes? The buttons on his surcoat were cold as well, I suppose.”‘
“Yes, Your Majesty, le comte des Deux Chats had diamonds embedded in the buttons. And the lace from his sleeves was the finest I’ve ever seen. They must have been imported, after you decreed several years ago the imported lace was forbidden at court, wisely so, I might add.” The chamberlain took a handkerchief made of domestic lace and blew his nose.
The old King’s apoplectic anger was leading to a hypoxic condition. He became light-headed. “I swear le comte des Deux Chats is trying to kill me. I fear it is so,” said His Majesty in a pathetic voice. “Help me back to my daybed, somebody, quickly. Quickly, I say, I feel faint!”
“I supposed, Your Majesty, that he feels like a prince of the blood since his betrothal to Princess Pirouette.”
“Enough of that,” snapped the King. “Bring him to me this instant!”