"John DeChancie - Castle 08 - Bride of the Castle" - читать интересную книгу автора (Dechancie John)

it all, am I an absolute monarch or am I not an absolute monarch?"
"You, sire, are the absolutest monarch of them all."
"You bet your sweet ass I am. All right, then why can't I- What fresh hell is this, now?"
Tremaine turned toward the commotion, which was not really a commotion, just a group of people
coming through the double doors of the great office.
"-and these are the Royal Chambers, the executive offices of the castle. If you'll step right through here,
ladies and gentlemen, ladies and lords-"
The king threw down his quill. "What the blue blazes is going on?"
Tremaine said, "I'll see, sire."
The leader of the group was about to go on with his spiel, but espying Tremaine's approach, he stopped.
Then he saw the king.
"Oh! Your Majesty! I thought office hours ended at five of the clock. We did not mean to intrude."
"Thank you for visiting us, my ladies, my lords," Tremaine said, approaching the group. "His Serene
Majesty bids you welcome. However, there is much pressing business of state today. As you can see,
we are working after hours. If it is not too much trouble, His Majesty requests that you look once
around; and then leave."
"He is handsome, isn't he?" said one coiffed dame to another.
"For as old as he is," was the second dame's opinion.
"Ye gods," the king muttered.
The tour group took its time leaving.
"By your leave, sire!" the tour guide said as he backed out.
The doors swung shut.
The king was glaring at Tremaine.
"Sire, I believe you authorized these guided tours last quarter to raise additional revenue."
His Majesty scowled. "Pfui. I did no such thing."
"I believe you did, sire. Yes, I am almost sure of it. In fact, I quite remember looking over the signed
edict."
"But I-"
"Yes, I'm quite sure you authorized the guided tours, sire."
The King of the Realms Perilous got up slowly. "I need a vacation."
"Sire, you just returned from a long journey."
"I'm going back, pronto. First, though, I'm going to hire me some help."
"Oh?"
The king walked to the center of the room, stopped, then took two steps to the right and one back, as if
sensing some optimal position. Satisfied as to his whereabouts, he began to make motions, tracing the air
with his fingers. He sketched whorls and arabesques, circles and oblongs. Then he turned three times
around while uttering a series of phrases in a language unfamiliar to his amanuensis.
On the third turnabout, he ended up facing the desk, right foot out, arms extended, fingers splayed.
"Appear!" he shouted, this time in his and Tremaine's native tongue.
A brief burst of flame enveloped the desk, and a puff of smoke rose. When the smoke cleared, there,
seated where the king had been moments before, was the king's double, smiling, ready to serve.
Tremaine had stepped warily back, but now edged forward, studying the royal doppelganger.
"Majesty, for the thousandth time, I am in awe of your skill."
"Pretty good job, eh?"
"Marvelous. Does it speak?-"
"Sure I do," the double said.
"You'll take care of everything?" the king asked his conjured twin.
"Don't worry about it. Go ahead, take off."
"Right, thanks."
The king pulled out of his robes, revealing the purple jogging suit that he wore underneath, and his