Baron of Pratisse
Tens of introductions had left the queen’s eyes glazed and mind unbearably numb. She could no longer tell the men apart after listening to them all spout the same nonsense.
Their shiny locks and symmetrical features no longer looked beautiful. Instead, it all blended together. If she looked hard enough, they all started to look like potatoes.
One potato, two potatoes, three potatoes… Eilane was dancing on the cusps of insanity.
To make matters worse, after the first few introductions, they were all the same mishmash of words or similar variations; Either boasting their own accolades, making empty promises, or singing her praises.
One fool even literally sang her praises.
It certainly left an impression unlike the others… Though in a negative sense. The song’s lyrics were filled with such cliched flattery, she almost felt compelled to execute the man on the spot.
With nothing in his brain except such flowery thoughts, his head would see better use in a vase than on his neck.
Because the Queen didn't respond, the other men must have somehow gotten it into their heads that they needed to stand out even more than the bard.
Some recited poetry, some did weird voices such as falsettos or impressions of important figures, one even introduced himself while doing a handstand.
For the first time in her life, Queen Eilane Erst rethought her life choices. What sort of karmic retribution was this punishing her for?
I didn’t have any expectations going into this…
But was it too much to think there would be more than three decent potatoes- I mean, people, in this whole nation?
Somewhere out there must be a kind, dependable, practical, and responsible man who cares for the people.
Forty-nine suitors in, Eilane felt she was at her breaking point. When suddenly she heard an unassuming voice. It did not ring out or command attention, but rather the crowd continued to chatter as he spoke, almost causing his words to blend in.
“Your Highness, Pratisse is a small but steadfast barony. Its people are faithful in their farmwork, honest, and good-natured. However, the past winter has been extremely cold, while the summer has brought drought. Our crops have been devastated and so have my people’s livelihood. Please, I implore you to send aid.”
Somewhere halfway, the crowd and spectators slowly stopped talking. The contents of his introduction were so unusual that they all redirected their attention: H-He’s making a political appeal right now!? When there’s a chance to become king!?
The Baron of Pratisse, John, had beige hair and eyes the colour of oatmeal. Although his facial features all looked alright by themselves… Combined, they gave off a sense of disproportion.
Well, in truth it was due to his eyes which were big, but not in a puppy-dog looking way. His irises were small in proportion to the sclera or eye-whites, giving him more of a goldfish-like look.
He was not skinny in an aristocratic way, but in a lanky, almost oafish way. Neither short, nor tall. His brown suit was simple and classic in design, but anyone could see it was well-worn.
Eilane rubbed her eyes, yet still she thought: A russet potato!
A man so average, he actually looked potato-like [not just due to Eilane’s delusions].