My Coronation [8 Thory 4262]
Esory darted through the door. "It's in here? Sythyry, you told me it was in the Ginger Jar Classroom."
"But that was last week, before I couldn't get the Ginger Jar. I thought I told everyone it was in here," I said.
"Missed me!" said Esory. "The Ginger Jar has a meeting of the Young Painted Egg Collectors' Club. It is full of Young Painted Egg Collectors discussing their young painted eggs and hitting on each other. They do not look the least bit traff."
"The room full of hot Rassimel-on-Rassimel action! But actually their action is not so hot. In the passion, one cries out to another, 'My love, your buttocks remind me of a pair of juxtaposed emu eggs with Pellman-style floral decorations in purple and green, slaenflowers or tascernels, rather like those from Araldy in the previous century. Only covered with Rassimel fur.'" says Rhedwy.
"No, that's only at the Young Painted Egg Collectors' Club meetings when you're the club-duke, Rhedwy," said Esory. "They weren't doing any more than a bit of same-species flirting. Showing off their painted eggs."
"Showing their eggs," said Mynthë. "Shameful!"
"A duke! A fluke! A leek! A sheik!" sang Ghirbis. "A club without a duke is a scrub without a spook or a shrub without a cuke! We - must - have - a - duke!"
Rhedwy snorts and says, "We have just one Cani. Grandille is therefore our club-duke."
"I think that's a good idea!" said Iridia.
"What good is a club-duke who won't even use his real name?" said Jrakh. "I mean, I can't blame him for wanting to be secretive, not after what happened to Whiskey and Mintiet. Also I don't know exactly what he's dreading, but it'll be a lot more likely if he's the club-duke of Traff At Vheshrame."
"Besides, I don't want a Cani for club-duke. I'm sure he'd impose a strict dating schedule. This week, I have to date Sythyry. Nine days from now, just when things are going nicely, Grandille the club-duke calls out 'Switch! Next!' and I've got to go out with Thelvion instead and learn a whole new person," said Mynthë.
Thelvion winced. Poor Thelvion.
Grandille wagged his tail. "Well, I'm not actually that much of a dictator in real life. I've been with Iridia for three years or so, and don't want to ever switch. Besides, I thought Sythyry already was the club-duke."
"Zie sure hasn't been elected," said Jrakh.
"In the distant and mysterious Empire of Dlesty, Jrakh's sweet homeland, club-dukes are appointed by the Great and Pleasant God Snadza, not elected," I pointed out. [See the World Tree book, p.277 -bb]
"I'm from one city over, silly," said Jrakh.
"In regular life, where Grandille is named Trust, you are from one city over. In the Club of the Traff, you are the Empress of Dlesty. You introduced yourself that way, and we're holding you to it," I said.
"I'm not named Trust anywhere!" said Grandille.
"Good thing. I don't want to use your real name," I said. His real name is actually Wreffen, as anyone with the Eye of Mirizan and Melizan could find out pretty fast by flying next to him in the quad. (No, the Eye doesn't find out names. There was this pack of Cani chatting, and one of them had the tatters of his illusion spell on, and was being called Wreffen.)
"Right. I say we elect Sythyry as club-duke," said Esory.
I sort of blinked at her. I mean, I'm the one who has organized both meetings -- and brought cookies and brandy! -- so I thought I already was de facto club-duke.
"Sounds good to me!" said Grandille. "I mean, who's going to beat up a Zi Ri adventurer? Gods only know what secret weapons zie could bring out!"
"Gods, my ~mother~, and anyone who reads my city guard reports," I said.
"Or zir journal," added Esory.
"Besides, everyone knows zie's traff. I'd rather not have everyone know about me, say, or Moria," said Chelinet.
"OK, I'm club-duke," I mumbled. "Can we get on with the meeting?"
Thelvion glared at me. "Besides that, you know the real Duke. And the real Duke knows you're traff and doesn't care. You're utterly immune to blackmail. And anyone who tries anything wicked against you will have to reckon with that."
"Um ... so?" I said
Jrakh flicked her tailtip, and said, "Thelvion's right. I mean, I could do it, I'm close with Prince Nestrune. But you're in the best position to deal with any sort of reprisals or bad fallout."
"Right," I said.
"Besides, you've been doing it fine so far," said Grandille.
"Yes, I have ..." I said.
"Except for not organizing the second meeting for a long time!" said Chelinet. "I had to poke zir with a long pokey sharp stick to get zir to do it!"
"You could do it if you'd rather," I said.
"No-no-no!" said Chelinet in a hurry. "I want you to do it!"
Esory peered at Chelinet and Jrakh and Grandille and Thelvion in turn. "Why are you trying to bully zir into being club-duke?"
"Because zie's the best choice!" said Jrakh.
"Didn't zie already accept?" asked Esory.
"We haven't voted yet!" said Jrakh.
"Yes, I did," I said. "Maybe a couple times."
"Well, we still haven't voted, so you can't accept it," said Jrakh.
"Silly, silly, we waste the time. Who is it who does not want Sythyry to be the club-duke?" asks Rhedwy, and yawns and shows many teeth. "Who is it who is volunteering to do it instead?"
Nobody seemed to want to. Maybe because of all the teeth.
"Fine, fine, I'm club-duke. Will you stop browbeating me now?" I said.
"We should make up a special ritual, like the Spelunker's Club has," said Esory.
"Zie pleasures someone of every available species but zir own! The rest of us watch!" says Rhedwy.
"How about I bring brandy and cookies?" I said.
"That will suffice!" said Esory.
So now I'm officially club-duke, instead of being club-duke. The sensation of dizzying power is overwhelming. Or at least it will be if anyone in the club would actually listen to me.