house of gold: a shoddy kingdom
Once upon a time, when such matters were sufficiently complicated and precarious to begin with, a young queen gave birth to three sons. These three were not born all at once, naturally, but because they were not given names outright, and because their arrival in such a quantity came as something of a surprise to all involved, and, most of all, because the royal keeper of records was an incomparable drunk, it was never sorted out which babe was plucked first from his mother’s womb. Indeed, it was never written down which prince proclaimed his entrance into their world of green and stone with a hearty cry before the other two. Unlikely good fortune had given the king and queen not one, not two, but three healthy boys! The kingdom did rejoice, and then, having slept off the headaches (if not the consequences of bad decisions made), the kingdom did rejoice some more. In the shadows of the revelry sat a fool in pointed shoes. He plucked absently at the strings of a lute, (for those were lean days and servants of the court were called upon to wear many hats, coxcomb and otherwise), and sang a tune that did not match the melody of his instrument. "Three boys, three joys, but which is heir? Not a soul alive can tell. This will surely turn out well."