The weather had not improved in recent days and Yths remained shrouded in a gray, gray evening twilight all day long. The clouds filled with new rain every hour and when they gave a respite, it was the chilly wind that almost blew the state statues off their pedestals.

Robert pulled up the collar of his canary yellow raincoat a little higher and wrapped his scarf, which had already swept half of Rumpelsteenlaan clean, an extra time around his neck. At least now it wasn't dragging on the ground anymore.

The large doors of the throne room were firmly closed and the two numb butlers Edgard and Eugène took up positions on either side of this entrance. Robert waited until they opened the door for him and then staggered inside. After dodging a woman in a far too wide hoop dress, he made his way to the small stage. It was oppressively warm inside and the breathing of everyone present had condensed on the large windows. More and more members of the Courtly

Functional Bourgoisie poured in and looked for a spot as far from the door as possible. Sharp gusts of wind slipped in through the cracks, blowing up the legs of suits and the hems of evening dresses.

Madam Haclaire sat on a shiny silver chair next to the counselor, wearing the sternest look that Siel had apparently taught her. The pacer was too lost in his schedules to notice Robert's arrival, so he sat down uninvited by the empty throne.

When Siel was convinced that 'anyone who didn't come now would never come', he cleared his throat. The murmur died down. "Dear attendees, what potential solutions have you brought?"

Hesitatingly, a few hands went up. Arnold Demeulenmeester, known as the royal postman, was the first to speak. 'My cousin Gerold has a neighbor and her sister's daughter is said to know a man whose father's brother-in-law thinks his aunt's new husband is a possible candidate for king. Only I heard from the great-granddaughter of the baker's mother that her uncle's great-grandniece, whose girlfriend is this man's second wife, says he is blind, is that a problem?'

The counselor, who had not been able to make head or tail of the story, nodded. "We're keeping this man on hand, anyone else candidate?"

Loriana, the royal judge's secretary, began her story.

'Emandine Kruises, the daughter of Baron Schieppensteen, undoubtedly has the capabilities to replace the king for an indefinite period of time.'

The pacer immediately dismissed this idea.

'Emandine is a woman, and we are definitely looking for a man. Does she have any brothers?'

"Seven sisters and one brother, sir, but he became a priest."

A few possible replacements followed, for example Pavo, a faun from the furthest corners of Bladerforest, and Karl, the talking duck from the Poison Gas Swamp. It went on like this for a while until Siel had had enough. 'Because it is impossible for us to judge the quality and quantity of them, we are going to organize royal elections.' He paused for a moment to gauge the audience's reaction. They all stared at him in surprise.

'Tomorrow at sunrise, the first auditions will take place. Every man who thinks he is worthy will be put through a series of tests to select the best. Until then, I appoint Dirrek Waldeman and the two ministers of the disaster plan to divide the king's duties among all of you.'

The narrative has been illicitly obtained; should you discover it on Amazon, report the violation.

"And," the pacer quickly added, "the sun rises at half past six, let's spread the word!"

The entire Courtly Functional Bourgoisie remained frozen for a few more seconds, probably to postpone their departure to the cold outside world. But then everyone slowly left for home, towards the chilly wind that started blowing harder and harder against the houses.Robert decided that he had better spend the night in the palace this night since he couldn't trust the weather with his leaking roof. Weary, he strolled to the dining room where a banquet had been prepared for the members of the council. All five of them generously filled their plates and enjoyed the comforting sound of forks and knives. During dinner, Dirrek Waldeman went over the steps to be taken in their vowel plan and got into a heated discussion with Siel Eggers about the first phase. The pacer had a conversation with Madam Haclaire about the size and legibility of a wall clock, while Robert almost slipped into his sweater. Even before dessert, sleep took possession of him and he lay exhausted with his head in the middle of his half-eaten mashed potatoes. A little later Eugène and Edgard put him in his bed and continued to sleep effortlessly. He wouldn't notice what had happened until the next morning when he had to pick pieces of baked potato off his face.

The man had dingy gray hair that was squashed by the crown of solid gold. He looked sullenly ahead with his dark eyes. Deep wrinkles marked his forehead, capped by bushy eyebrows that almost met above his nose. Numerous medals adorned his greatcoat and his unadulterated dignity radiated from his pale gray photograph. Robert peered at the paintings of the past kings. They all wore the same crown that was apparently passed down from generation to generation. It was currently on the bedside table next to the current king's sick bed. Robert tore his gaze away from the princes who were staring at him more and more menacingly and checked again that everything in the room was in order.

Siel had decided that the auditions would take place in the throne room with only the members of the council as the jury and he thought it was extremely important that the room looked formal, strict and dignified. That is why he had three large wooden plates placed against the wall to hang photos of past glory, with what he thought was a concise text underneath about the ruler himself. But Robert soon gave up reading those biographies when he found himself losing the thread after three lines. The counselor also ordered all curtains to be closed for strict privacy and a purple carpet to be rolled out to the stage. He thought red was too respectful and purple was more his color. The hall was set up as a waiting room for the next candidates and fences were placed outside to keep long queues in order. Some butlers were already ready to thoroughly inspect the young men one by one before they were allowed to make their entrance.

The night before the commotion had broken out for the first time when newspapers and telephone operators shouted the news from the rooftops at the top of their lungs. But the story spread like wildfire mainly thanks to the chattering neighbors who went from house to house with 'have you heard this yet?'. Directors and teachers raided the homes of schoolchildren late in the evening to inform the youth of the catastrophe involving the king. Students then made a big fuss about it because they found it exciting rather than bad. By midnight almost everyone knew and those who didn't knew just didn't want to know.

When the story about the auditions started doing the rounds, there was a real commotion. Women who thought their husbands excelled in anything sent him to the palace, relishing the role of pretentious queen. Men who played 'Bet I'll Get Further Than You' with their comrades rushed to the castle and boys who saw this as a unique opportunity to hook the girl of their dreams were also present. The tailors and men's clothing stores decided to open their businesses at night for once and did golden business every time someone came in for a fancy suit. Hairdressers cut more hair than ever before and shoemakers polished shoes until they were black with shoe polish. Finally, no one risked being late, with the result that the line stretched far beyond the waiting gates more than two hours in advance.