man_of_all_work | (no subject)

(no subject)

It's far too cold to be outside.

Which is why Perry is not. Instead, he's sitting at a table, whittling at something, and whistling cheerfully.

With tea.

Of course.

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"That," Perry says, smiling, "is excellent news. And I'll even help you sneak in, if you like. It's easy enough, you know. All you need is a nice dress, and you already know how to dance."

"Thank you," she says, graciously, and then laughs. "I somehow suspect that you are better at sneaking than other kings."

"Far better," Perry laughs. "Especially as most people seem to think I'm a senior page."

"That I doubt, somehow," says Amy, "since most of the people you'd need to sneak away from probably already know what you look like. Anyway, you make a far better man-of-all-work. Senior Royal Pages can be so terribly self-important, you know."

"That is true," he concedes. "At any rate, it's easy enough to slip past people loking for you when you're at a ball and there are hundreds of people all walking around. So it shouldn't be too hard."

"Oh, sneaking into the ball would be the easy part," she says. "It would be sneaking out of the kitchen that would be difficult. There's ever so much to be done in a kitchen during a ball, you know, and you have an incredibly grumpy fourth assistant senior cook who keeps a terribly close watch on things, and scolds."

"Is there? I hadn't any idea."

Perry thinks on this conundrum intently for a moment.

"I suppose we'll just have to have our own ball," he says. "Or invite the kitchen staff. One of the two."

Amy laughs. "That's sort of what we're doing now, isn't it?"

"And a marvelous idea it was," he says, sweeping her grandly about.

"Wouldn't you agree?"

"Yes, I rather think it was," agrees Amy. "A much better idea than sneaking into a ball, really. There's no unpleasant company to avoid."

"Only very pleasant company here," he agrees, and smiles down at her in a way that makes his eyes twinkle charmingly.

"Far more enjoyable than a ball."

It is probably worth repeating that Perry has a very nice smile.

"I can't really say they I've ever cared for balls, honestly," admits Amy. "They're sort of . . . boring."

"But they often have very good food," he points out.

"Although apparently it makes rather a lot of extra work for the kitchens."

"Ever so much extra work, really. Though it also makes it much easier to find leftover nuts to take to Mr. Pemberthy, so there's some good that comes from them."

"I am sorry about that," he says, and it's sincere. "I don't plan the things, you know, it's the Council that does that, but I feel rather responsible all the same. Is there some way I can make it up to you?"

She shrugs. "It's my job to work in the kitchen. It's hardly your fault."

A pause, and then there's an edge of mischief in her eyes.

Oh, all right. More than an edge.

"I don't suppose you could put the Council in charge of washing the dishes for the next one."

"I could try," he says, after thinking it over.

"Although I may have to promise to marry someone in return."

"Good heavens, Perry, it's not worth that."

"It's the only bargaining tool I have," he says, dismally, and twirls her.

"Then we must think of some others for you," says Amy, "or you're going to be in dreadful trouble once you are married."

She thinks.

"My father tends to fine his councillors, when he gets annoyed. I don't think he's paid Lord Reginald in five or six years."

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