King Garibald Talonuel III stepped out of a wooden carriage and took a deep breath of cold and crisp winter air. Winter was not something he often got to enjoy, an unfortunate side-effect of living in Karthin, at the southern shores of Griffonia.
Before Talonuel stood the Imperial Palace of Griffenheim, the seat of power of the once-powerful Griffonian Empire. Its white marble walls rose high to the skies, clearly visible against the black, starless sky. It was a fine place, although nothing compared to the royal palace of Karthin. From the windows on each of the palace's three floors shone golden light, lighting up the row of uniformed guards surrounding the building. Right in front of Talonuel was a small staircase leading up to the palace's main entrance, where a long line of griffons had already formed.
Talonuel checked his black uniform one more time, before walking up the steps and taking his place behind the last of the griffons, a nameless noble with a creamy fur and tawny feathers. It was a stark contrast to Talonuel's dark brown coloring. Based on his looks, he could have melded into any griffon crowd were it not for his black face, which was surrounded by a thick, white rim.
The line moved slowly. A herald announced the name and title of each griffon as they became the first on the line, after which the young Emperor and the Imperial Regent welcomed them to the celebration. Eventually, it was Talonuel's turn.
"King Garibald Talonuel of Wingbary, the third of his name!" the herald shouted.
Talonuel greeted Grover VI with a bow, although one not as low as others had. He was not a vassal, after all. The Emperor had yellow feathers and fur and was wrapped up in a thick, double-breasted coat. The child ruler looked up at the much older griffon with confusion and curiosity. In spite of his dislike of all things Imperial, the sight of the cute and handsome lad made a sense of warmth spread through his chest and made his white mustache twitch as he struggled to hold back a smile. Talonuel then turned to the pink griffon next to the Emperor: Duchess Gabriela Eagleclaw, one of the Emperor's cousins and above all, the regent.
"Your grace," Talonuel said, taking the Duchesses talon in his and bowing slightly. The gesture of holding a hoof and kissing it had spread east from Equestria, but with the griffons' lack of lips, this was the closest possible equivalent.
"Your majesty, it is an honor to have you here," Eagleclaw answered. Her voice was guarded and emotionless, not giving Talonuel any insight into her thoughts. Good. For all their friendly masquerade, they were still enemies. "I thank you for coming today, in spite of what happened to your father."
"You are not among those who murdered him," Talonuel assured her, a hint of steel appearing in his voice. "And I know such a thing will not happen again."
With that, he stepped inside the palace, allowing the next noble to meet the pair. It was easy to find the ballroom. He just had to walk in a straight line to the only room with its doors open. Two guards in green uniforms and spiked helmets stood on either side of the tall pair of gilded wooden doors. He stepped through the door to a ballroom even he was forced to admit was magnificent, a second herald announcing him.
The entire floor was made of polished, exotic wood, which reflected the candlelight coming from the tiered chandeliers hanging from the dark blue ceiling. There were five chandeliers, each of them with hundreds of candles. Talonuel found himself nodding in approval.
"Beautiful, are they not?"
A griffon stepped next to Talonuel, eyeing the ceiling. He was completely gray, and his round face was surrounded by a mess of short feathers.
"Yes," the dark griffon admitted.
"You know, my great grandfather designed them..."
Before he even realized it, Talonuel was being escorted towards one of the two large tables at the center of the room, maneuvered around the nobles mingling around. All the time, the gray griffon kept talking about the ceiling, or the white walls of the room, and the work his family had put to them. Talonuel nodded along. It was good to be proud of your ancestry.
He was made to sit down on a wooden chair on a place designated to him. A bell rang out, signaling for all to take their seats. There was a brief bustle, followed by a moment of silence as everyone waited for the Emperor to arrive. The nobles loyal to the crown were closest to the Emperor's and the Regent's seats, arranged in order of importance. Behind them were Talonuel, and the few other independent nobles who had joined the feast.
Then the Emperor stepped into the room, followed closely by duchess Eagleclaw. Young Grover was clearly abashed by all the attention and glanced nervously around, and then at the duchess. Talonuel spotted her giving him a quick, encouraging smile.
The pair took their places. Immediately after that, Grover spoke. "Nobles of the empire and beyond," he spoke, his voice shaky and stuttering. Talonuel could see it took him great effort to get through the speech. "Thank you for arriving. It is an honor to see... that so many of you still honor your oaths."
His nerve breaking, the Emperor backed off. Talonuel did not approve, but he understood: the lad was four after all. Duchess Eagleclaw took his place. "Let us remember and rejoice in the glories of the past. May the feasting commence."
With that, the food was brought to the table. There were Feathisian cheeses and expertly spiced meats from Bronzehill. Tense murmuring spread out through the hall as old feuds, rather than glories were brought up.
"So," a minor Knight said to Talonuel. He looked up to meet her challenging gaze. The knight continued, getting the attention of those around her: "The lead traitor himself has arrived. Did you come to beg for forgiveness?"
"Whatever do you mean?" Talonuel replied, tick brows furrowing. "Is fighting bandits and murderers considered treachery in the Empire?"
"You will not sully the Reich's name, you little..." the knight rose up before another pushed her down.
"Sister!" the second griffon hissed a warning, before shooting Talonuel a glare. He understood no apology would come from the two, and it was only basic manners that made her stop her sister.
"Well," Talonuel said, turning to the other independent nobles. "I propose a toast to our band of traitors."
There were a few chuckles and raised glasses. The celebration continued, and after an hour, the servants cleaned the tables and pulled them away. A band was brought in, and a large dance floor was cleared. While some pairs took to the floor, many remained on the sidelines, resuming to their murmuring from before.
"So, your majesty," a blue griffon with a broad, flat face said to Talonuel. She was one of the smart ones who had abandoned the collapsing empire. "How are things holding up in the south?" The question was one of idle curiosity.
"Reasonably enough, Lady Rivertail. That fool Beakolini was stopped, and the economy is recovering. Up north?"
"Nobles keep finding things to bicker about and the regency council is a mess. Things go as one might expect."
Their talk was interrupted when something small slammed into Talonuel's side. He looked down to see a dazzled emperor Grover rubbing his head. Talonuel excused himself, signaling for Rivertail to leave, and turned to face the young griffon.
"Are you alright?" He asked.
"Um... yes," Grover answered, uncertain. His outdoor coat had been swapped for a smart if generic black suit. He then whimpered quietly: "I can't find Ga... the Duchess."
Talonuel nodded, standing up. A quick look around did not reveal her location. He could have taken to the air, but that would have been uncouth. "Do you need help finding her?"
"Yes, please."
"Fine, let's go." He almost reached out with his wings to guide Grover, before realizing it would overstep a dozen boundaries. The two moved through the crowded sections around the dance floor, looking for the pink regent. Unnerved by the number of bickering griffons around him, Grover pressed himself against Talonuel's side, seeking comfort in his warmth. This drew several glances from the nobles around them.
"Um... mister Talonuel?" Grover said.
"Yes?"
"I like your mustache."
Talonuel stumbled, caught off guard by the unexpected comment.
"Really?" he asked, shuffling uncomfortably. He had not expected to hear a compliment regarding his facial hair, especially from the hated Emperor. He did hate him, didn't he?
"Yes! It's fluffy and nice. Can I grow a mustache like that?"
Talonuel glanced around, internally praying no one had heard the two. What the hell was he supposed to do? "Maybe when you are older," he offered.
"Yes!" Grover beamed at his words. "I'm going to be just like you."
Talonuel wondered if others could others see if he was blushing. He knew how to handle warfare and diplomacy, but excited compliments from a child were something new.
Pink.
Talonuel saw something pink in the corner of his eye. On the other side of the dance floor stood duchess Gabriela, animatedly talking with the gray griffon Talonuel had seen earlier.
"It seems your caretaker is over there," Talonuel said, watching as she melded into the crowd, and then resurged.
It seemed Grover had also seen her. He looked for a quick path through the crowd and then decided on one.
"Come on!"
With that, he pushed Talonuel towards the dance floor.
"Your majesty, what..." Talonuel managed to keep his deep voice emotionless and even.
"It's the fastest way. We dance to her."
How the young ones' minds worked.
Grover led he two down the across the ballroom, leading the fast waltz. Why was he leading Talonuel in a waltz? All talk ceased at the sight, and Talonuel swore he heard a few stifled laughs. To their credit, the band kept playing even as most dancers stopped.
The two finally reached the duchess, who had an odd mixture of worry, disgust, horror, and amusement.
"His majesty is quite energetic," Talonuel said as Grover finally let him go.
"Indeed," came the terse reply.
Grover explained to the duchess how he had gotten lost in the crowd, and was quickly pulled into what was definitely not a public embrace. Definitely.
"King Talonuel was so nice! He helped me find you!"
"Thank you," the Duchess said. Her voice was toneless and did not carry the hostility it had before.
“Can he visit us more often?” Grover asked, pulling away from his cousins. “Can he be my uncle? Can you two marry?”
Talonuel and Gabriela looked each other in the eyes, their faces hardening. Now there was the hostility Talonuel was familiar with. The standoff continued for a moment before the gray griffon the Duchess had been talking to spoke: “I think it is a magnificent idea. May I request I be the ring bearer?”
Both glared at the amused griffon.
“Another word Gerlach, and I will have you thrown out,” the Duchess threatened. Gerlach retreated while chuckling to himself.
"Can I and Talonuel dance again?" Grover asked again. "It was so fun."
Talonuel looked at Grover, and then at Gabriela, who shrugged in response. Well, he was not there to make enemies.
"I would be delighted, your majesty."
XXXX
A week had passed since the banquet. Duchess Gabriela sat on the velvety sofa of her private quarters, wrapped under the wing of Grand Duke Gerlach and quietly watching the fire burning in a small hearth.
A knock on the door alerted the drowsy pair, who quickly jumped off the sofa. Gabriela quickly made sure she looked presentable, before opening the door. A servant waited on the other side, a small package held in her talons.
"Your grace, a package from Wingbardy."
Gabriela took the parcel. It had King Talonuel's seal. Gabriela dismissed the servant, and once she was gone, she opened the package. Inside was a small note.
For the young emperor Grover VI. He may find it useful.
Signed: King Garibald Talonuel III of Wingbardy.
Under the note were a finely crafted razor and shaving instructions.
Author's Note
I imagine Talonuel to be this cool and slightly awkward grandpa.
