Basil would never have thought he would see a sovereign look with so much favor at a pile of stable filth. And yet, here was his father, practically leering at the goat feces he held in his hand.
For a long moment, the heavy silence of the barn held. Basil waited, fully expecting his father to break it and explain the grand praises he had just heaped upon the substance. When it became abundantly clear that the King needed a small shove to get his tongue moving, Basil gave it.
"Are you going to honor your son with an explanation, Father?"
His father didn't move to answer, his eyes still locked on his handful of dirt as if he hadn't heard a single word. Basil shifted his feet, the stench prickling the back of his throat.
"Please?" the prince added, softening his tone.
The King finally nodded, the corners of his mouth twitching. "That's better. I don't remember raising a rude boy for a son."
