“Say no more,” Tristan grinned. He ran back into his room, scooped up the box of matches on his bedside table, and joined Thoth again. Advancing on the curtains, he pushed open the cardboard draw and extracted his first match. He struck it once against the side of the packet and it sparked willingly into life. With a surge of satisfaction, Tristan set the little flame to the bottom of the curtains and waited until they caught light. Contented, he moved to the curtain furthest away from him and set that on fire too, then stepped back to admire his handiwork. Smoke began to fill the corridor as the fabric was rapidly eaten by the flames.

“Knew he had terrible taste,” Tristan sniffed, ignoring the burning in his eyes. He waited until shreds of smouldering fabric began to drop to the ground, and then turned his head to Thoth.

“I suppose you should put it out,” he said reluctantly, “don’t want my first act as king to be setting everyone on fire.”

He stamped on a singed section of carpet with a snort of bitter laughter, letting Thoth work his magic.

“Anything else along here?” he asked, gesturing up and down the corridor. “Because if not, I know where we need to go, and we can do a few more...repairs on the way.”

Grinning, Tristan led the way to the nearest staircase. It was wide and open, with portraits and paintings lining the outside wall. He paused in front of one and tipped his head to one side, considering.

“I don’t recognise this one,” he remarked of a mountain scene, tapping the golden frame with his finger. Tristan reached up, and unhooked it from the wall, lowering it to the floor. He glanced over at Thoth again.

“Any other interlopers?” he asked, picking the landscape up again and walking casually to the other banister rail. There was a long drop down to the entrance hall below, but it was late enough for it to be empty. With a shrug, Tristan hoisted the frame over the rail and dropped it into the darkness. There was a brief stretch of silence, and then a crash echoed, mixed in with the shattering of wood and plaster.

Dusting his hands, Tristan turned back to Thoth with a grin, leaning back against the rail, unconcerned by the drop behind him.

“Your turn,” he urged his friend, thoroughly enjoying himself, “but save a couple, I want to lob a few in the moat to see how long they take to sink.”

He adopted a more sober expression.

“Then I solemnly promised to retrieve them, Thoth,” he swore, “so they don’t interfere with the ecosystem.”

put all your faults to bed

TristaN

you can be king again