Wedding Gifts, and other controversies
The Remarkable Tragedie of Tristan and Isuelt opened, nearly four hundred years after its author's death, to a packed house.
And a remarkable one, by modern standards: everyone knew how to dress and how to behave, and all knew each other in some way (but they managed to behave despite that). This last was most likely due to the presence of a single older gentleman named David, who was everything one might look for in a king: handsome, charming, dotingly in love, and unquestionable. And those who were not inclined to show him the proper amount of respect were soon dealt with by sharp words or looks (and just once, a sharp kick to the shin) by other notable persons in the audience.
Alison would allow nothing to ruin the afternoon. It was the first time she had entertained the whole royal court, and she very much hoped to have the honor of doing so again. So there were plentiful libations, the rare sorts of vintages that men spend their lives questing after, delicate finger-foods too achingly beautiful to eat in haste, and of course chocolates from her own plantations, where each tree is a direct descendant of Quetzalcotal's divine favor.
In addition to the royal court were a number of Alison's own friends, and of course her whole family. The children were seated all together with little Julian, David's daughter Lenore, and the other childlings while Alex played hostess--under the careful eyes of her Grammy and Ali's Gram and Gran. Sasha was gracious enough to keep the King's sister entertained, leaving Ali free to attend to the happy couple's every whim--and look after her other guests when she had the chance.
And Ali made sure to remind people why she had invited them that afternoon in her toast:"My friends and honored guests, my King, princess, let me welcome you all to this theater and this performance today. I know there has been much discussion about what is to come, and I hope you will all forgive me my secrecy in the matter when all is said and done. When I was blessed with the extraordinary gift of being this play's keeper, I knew that every aspect of its entrance into the world would have to be perfect--and I can think of no more perfect occasion than the marriage of our beloved King to his beautiful princess. And so, if I may be so bold, I ask you all to help me welcome into the world a new work from the Bard himself, The Remarkable Tragedie of Tristan and Isuelt."
The house lights went down when Ali finished her speech, and when the surprised murmurs of the audience died off the play began.
To say that the afternoon was, from there on out, a magical experience would perhaps be an understatement. With so few of the audience having ever had the chance to witness such a premier, anything that might detract from the play was unthinkable. There was some hesitation to react at all, although the play did not fail to move its audience or gift them with everything Alison had hoped. And if any of the actors had worried their performance was leaving something to be desired, the truly thunderous applause at the end laid all those fears to rest.
After all was said and done upon the stage, there was the usual period of milling-about. The actors were congratulated before they left en masse to get astoundingly drunk and try to figure out what happened (in that order). Ali was given her congratulations too, and thanks, and invitations to all the sorts of parties that can be expected given her sudden rise in society. But despite David's good example in graciousness, the obviously human non-fae guests were politely ignored once the King and his bride-to-be left.
Though that may not be an entirely bad thing: once the court had retreated after their King, and the children had been ushered out to their ice-cream rewards by doting grandparents, everyone left has an absolutely giddy Ali to deal with.
And a remarkable one, by modern standards: everyone knew how to dress and how to behave, and all knew each other in some way (but they managed to behave despite that). This last was most likely due to the presence of a single older gentleman named David, who was everything one might look for in a king: handsome, charming, dotingly in love, and unquestionable. And those who were not inclined to show him the proper amount of respect were soon dealt with by sharp words or looks (and just once, a sharp kick to the shin) by other notable persons in the audience.
Alison would allow nothing to ruin the afternoon. It was the first time she had entertained the whole royal court, and she very much hoped to have the honor of doing so again. So there were plentiful libations, the rare sorts of vintages that men spend their lives questing after, delicate finger-foods too achingly beautiful to eat in haste, and of course chocolates from her own plantations, where each tree is a direct descendant of Quetzalcotal's divine favor.
In addition to the royal court were a number of Alison's own friends, and of course her whole family. The children were seated all together with little Julian, David's daughter Lenore, and the other childlings while Alex played hostess--under the careful eyes of her Grammy and Ali's Gram and Gran. Sasha was gracious enough to keep the King's sister entertained, leaving Ali free to attend to the happy couple's every whim--and look after her other guests when she had the chance.
And Ali made sure to remind people why she had invited them that afternoon in her toast:"My friends and honored guests, my King, princess, let me welcome you all to this theater and this performance today. I know there has been much discussion about what is to come, and I hope you will all forgive me my secrecy in the matter when all is said and done. When I was blessed with the extraordinary gift of being this play's keeper, I knew that every aspect of its entrance into the world would have to be perfect--and I can think of no more perfect occasion than the marriage of our beloved King to his beautiful princess. And so, if I may be so bold, I ask you all to help me welcome into the world a new work from the Bard himself, The Remarkable Tragedie of Tristan and Isuelt."
The house lights went down when Ali finished her speech, and when the surprised murmurs of the audience died off the play began.
To say that the afternoon was, from there on out, a magical experience would perhaps be an understatement. With so few of the audience having ever had the chance to witness such a premier, anything that might detract from the play was unthinkable. There was some hesitation to react at all, although the play did not fail to move its audience or gift them with everything Alison had hoped. And if any of the actors had worried their performance was leaving something to be desired, the truly thunderous applause at the end laid all those fears to rest.
After all was said and done upon the stage, there was the usual period of milling-about. The actors were congratulated before they left en masse to get astoundingly drunk and try to figure out what happened (in that order). Ali was given her congratulations too, and thanks, and invitations to all the sorts of parties that can be expected given her sudden rise in society. But despite David's good example in graciousness, the obviously human non-fae guests were politely ignored once the King and his bride-to-be left.
Though that may not be an entirely bad thing: once the court had retreated after their King, and the children had been ushered out to their ice-cream rewards by doting grandparents, everyone left has an absolutely giddy Ali to deal with.