“SO, now,” said the King, “you shall have your true reward.” And to make it the more impressive, he nudged our Peterkin in the ribs with the end of his golden scepter and winked his royal eye at the Princess Clem, who stood nearby in blushing joy.
Straightway the courtiers gathered about their new hero, lifted him high upon their shoulders and bore him away, out of the throne room, out of the pillared halls, into the center of that very same market square which flanked the sunny palace. And there they cheered him, long and loud:
“All hail to Peterkin, Prince of the Realm! All hail to Peterkin, beloved of a Princess Royal! All hail to Peterkin, hero of heroes and King-to-be!”
“Where was it bound? Haven’t you guessed?”
It was only then that modest Peterkin could guess how great were the honors and rewards which had befallen him. For a golden coronet they placed upon his head—and a purple robe upon his shoulders. And a golden sword upon a jeweled belt went ’round his waist to mark, from this time forth, that he was chief commander of all the King’s guards.
And, the very next day, at the hour of ruddy sunset, when all the windows of the palace burned with a bright reflection, and the moon was sailing high up, white and wan, into the clouds, there began the celebration of the most magnificent marriage that e’er was held or will be held in all the Four Kingdoms. And you know well enough who were the bride and bridegroom!
The banquet which followed was so splendid an affair that for three days thereafter the court doctor and all his chemists were kept busy at compounding cures for indigestion. For there were twenty different soups to taste—and each one thicker than the other. There were fish from the sea, the river and the brook; roast peacocks, with their tails still spread in blue and shimmering beauty; stuffed pigs with brown and crackling skin; all sorts of jellies, jams and ices; bonbons heaped in silver dishes, and—ah, yes, a wedding cake which towered so high that it touched the gilded ceiling. Think what a time the princess must have had cutting it to pieces—as all thoughtful brides do—with Peterkin’s sharp sword!
