A Timely Knight

A Royal Invitation

Timothy was about to knock on the door again when Emmu finally came out of his room. He was wearing the brand new white coat the Marquise had left for him, but with the brown leather pants and knee-high lace up boots with which he had come. Looking at him from top to bottom, Timothy thought he looked a Don mixed with a Sky Pirate.

"I'm impressed," said Timothy, drawing a wide smile at his sapphire. "You look..."

"Ooze-free?" Emmu interrupted him and Timothy simply smiled.

"Not what I was going to say, but close enough. Come on, we're late."

"Look at you trying to impress the Marquise and her Master," Emmu said and Timothy laughed at his very obvious jealousy.

Indeed, ever since he boarded the blimp, Timothy had caught his sapphire throwing suspicious looks his way. Initially, he thought it was just his imagination, but every time he spoke to the Marquise, he could see Emmu grinding his teeth or rolling his eyes. Timothy couldn't help but laugh at Emmu's childish behavior but he understood. Most of the time, Timothy only had eyes for him, so to have a new and unexpected presence must've been particularly hard for someone as competitive as Emmu.

"I'm not trying to impress anyone, meathead."

"Right, because you have absolutely no interest in our hostess," Emmu's voice was more acidic by the word, yet he kept trying to disguise it behind a mask of humor. He was failing.

"I have the same interest in her as you. We're all here for you, Emmu, you keep forgetting that." Timothy was being sincere but he knew Emmu wouldn't believe him. Emmu always had to be right.

"Very well, if you don't want to tell me, don't tell me. Your choice."

"Jealousy really doesn't suit you, Emmu."

"I am NOT jealous."

This time, Timothy had to laugh and not even a very strong punch from Emmu could shut him up. "Whatever you say, Master."

"Dick."

Emmu's voice was more relaxed and Timothy smiled at a job well done. He knew he could always bring a smile to Emmu's face, even at the worst of times. Lately, this little talent had been most convenient, especially with all the life-altering news they had received.

As they climbed down the stairs, he wondered what Emmu would think of the Master that waited for them in the parlor. He had only shared some brief words with Master Nilla, but they were enough for Timothy to realize she was laid-back and good-natured. However, she also struck him as the type of woman who had no time for nonsense or games, and he wondered how she would react to Emmu's particular brand of humor.

When they finally reached the parlor, the two women stood up to meet them. The Marquise, wearing one of her very uncomfortable-looking dresses, walked up to them, the same anxious look in her face as when she first met them and scolded them for their tardiness.

"You are late. Again," she spoke in a sharp tone, giving them her best stern look.

"I can explain, dear Marquise," Emmu was quick to say. "But I think you'll find this was actually your fault. You see, in order to look presentable for you and your Master, I took a bath and I must say it was the single best bath I have ever taken. Everything about it was so gloriously over the top, I mean, even the water smelled of nobility. And I really wanted to make a good impression. It's not fair that Timmy here gets all the attention, don't you think?"

The Marquise rolled her eyes at him and turned to walk back to the second woman, who remained silent and looking at them with a mix of curiosity and disbelief. For his part, Timothy, who was rather enjoying Emmu's little show, turned to his friend and whispered.