"Your Majesty, I'm impressed that you saved those people." Lord Hertford gathered up his papers from the advisers' meeting. "You showed real persistence in dealing with that sheriff. I heard many comments about how dignified and royal you appeared."
"After questioning the sheriff and freeing those people, I feel more like a king," Tom said. "But I'm still a little nervous about dining in public today."
"Oh, I'm confident you'll do well at that—and at your coronation next month."
"My coronation?"
Tom hadn't thought about a coronation, but of course there would be one. A king wasn't really a king until he received his crown in a long, boring ceremony. Father Andrew's books were full of coronations. Tom's stomach rumbled. Was that panic or was he just hungry?
Tom gave Lord Hertford a weak smile. "Is it all right to postpone thinking about my coronation until after lunch?"
Lord Hertford nodded. "Perfectly fine, Your Majesty."
Tom straightened up so that he stood as tall as possible. "Then let's go!"
That afternoon Tom felt remarkably calm in the palace's magnificent banquet hall. A trumpeter sounded a horn as Tom took his seat. His table was on a raised platform so that everyone could watch him eat.
Tom looked down at the people eager for him to begin eating. The whole purpose of this meal was to reassure everyone that he was in good health.
"Now what am I supposed to do?" Tom thought. He closed his eyes, trying to recall his instructions from Lord Hertford. "Oh yes, now I remember."
He nodded to his advisers and other people that he recognized. He allowed the royal napkin holder to tie a napkin around his neck. He waited patiently while the royal cupbearer filled his cup with water.
Tom studied the forks, knives, and spoons while the royal taster performed his job.
"There's a lot of silverware on this table," Tom thought. "I hope I remember which piece to use when."
But then he thought of the rule he'd read in the royal etiquette book.
"Always begin with the utensil farthest away from the plate." Tom smiled to himself and picked up the salad fork.
Throughout the meal Tom was careful not to hurry. He didn't do anything for himself that a servant could do for him. As he started to reach for the butter, he stopped and looked at a servant. The man scurried to Tom's side and placed some butter on Tom's baked potato.
"Is that enough butter, Your Majesty?" the servant asked.
Tom nodded.
"Would you like some pepper?" The servant held a huge pepper mill over Tom's plate.
Tom nodded again and thought about the days when he used to play at being a prince.
"We never used to pretend we were having banquets," he thought. "It's hard to think about food when you're hungry."
Tom's mouth watered while the servant cut up his meat and poured gravy over it.
"I could have done that faster myself!" Tom thought as he quickly reached for a piece with the correct fork.
Suddenly the meat slipped from the fork, hit Tom's lap, and bounced onto the floor.
"Ohh!" Everyone in the room groaned and exchanged looks of dismay.
Lord Hertford silently hoped that Tom would leave the meat alone.
"Don't worry, I've got it!" Tom started to reach under the table before he remembered that kings shouldn't do that. "Just joking!"
Everyone laughed, and Lord Hertford sighed with relief. The servant crawled under the table to remove the piece of meat. The royal napkin holder brought Tom a fresh napkin.
"Nancy and I were so hungry, we would have fought over that meat," Tom thought. "I hope someone gets to eat it."
The rest of the meal went perfectly. Tom even dared to ask for a third piece of chocolate cake. He washed his hands in rose water and wasn't even tempted to drink from the gold bowl.
"That wasn't so hard," Tom thought as he stood up. And then he realized he had to burp.
"Oh no!" he thought. "Is it rude for a king to burp in public? If only I had someone to do that for me!"
By this point, Tom could hardly breathe, for fear he would make another mistake. He caught sight of Marlow, standing at the back of the room. Marlow gave him an encouraging smile, and Tom remembered their first conversation.
"Now that you're king," Marlow had said, "you can do whatever you want."
Tom opened his mouth and out came a tremendous blast of sound. He laughed as the noise from the trumpeter's horn covered his burp.