Robert glanced out the window and noticed the motley crowd of men huddled together. He looked around looking for someone he knew, but the weak first rays of sunlight offered too little light. He wondered who already had blisters from the unworn shoes he had ventured into today and who was already regretting that he had not turned over in his bed again. He was certainly one of them. He rubbed his eyes laboriously to clear away the bags underneath them and yawned loudly. He stared at the toes of his shoes for a few seconds. For once he had been able to exchange his yellow boots for some neater footwear and the rest of his outfit had also undergone a drastic change. The tight gray suit stretched around his shoulders and the bow tie cut into his neck. But the worst part was the fake mustache that the pacer had put on him to supposedly increase his prestige. The only result of that hair growth was that it constantly worried him about whether it would stick around.

The mustache recommendation himself wore tight black sunglasses that stood out brightly against his blond hair and a suit that had a particularly complicated motif. He had buttoned it down to the last button and rolled up the sleeves in an uncivilized manner. Madam Haclaire had opted for a classic black dress and an immense hat that cast a shadow over her face. Under his cape, Siel wore a midnight blue overcoat with a stand-up collar and shiny cufflinks. Finally, Dirrek Waldeman had squeezed himself into a white cloak so that he bore an extreme resemblance to a pregnant polar bear. Robert had wisely remained silent when Dirrek had asked his opinion about his outfit.

Robert took his seat last, past the other members of the council who had been waiting for him for quite some time. When he was finally present, Siel briefly explained how the assessment form worked. 'Every candidate must write his name, age and abilities on this paper before entering. He then introduces himself and after a short consultation with you I then indicate whether he has passed or not. Then we all sign this form and it is handed over to the owner.'

The pacer coughed. 'It takes me at least five minutes to sign a proper, full signature, Sielie, and that is a serious waste of time.'

The counselor raised his eyebrows disapprovingly. 'Firstly, I don't want to be addressed by the childish nickname Sielie, my grandmother doesn't even dare to call me that, and secondly, put a small initial under it instead of turning it into a coloring page.'

Before the pacer could appeal this, Dirrek clapped his hands so that the first candidate could enter. It was immediately a terrible disappointment. A nervous little ginger-haired young man trotted over to them on the white carpet, handed over his tray and began introducing himself. And that's where the trouble started. The boy stuttered terribly and, much to the pleasure of the pacer, took half a minute to say his name. When it looked more like he was going to spell out every word, Madam Haclaire had him skip the introduction about himself and get straight to the point. 'Wwwel, uh... Ikk I have a ggg...gggggoeddd gggehhhhheuggen and...'

Dirrek rolled his eyes to heaven. After saying the letter k for knowledge about 17 times, the boy lost his patience. 'Thank you, but I'm afraid you're out of place here. A king must also be able to give speeches and if each word has more than ten of the same consonants, it is extremely tiring to listen to and it loses its essence. Bye.'

The boy nodded sadly and strolled back outside with his tray. His successors were equally dismal: a deaf and mute centaur, a failed siren who had to be transported in an oversized fishbowl, a bankrupt bank manager named Johannes Veelmunt, an undercover witch, a merman who walked on crutches, an elderly Bad Wolf who was always hungry. , a sad teddy bear with only one eye, a troll dressed as a knight, a farmer with a bad cold, an aggressive mouse, a dyer married to 18 wives and a good-for-nothing with oversized sunglasses. Robert looked out at the strange individuals who entered the room with their own specific walk and started to rave at length about their interesting or otherwise interesting lives.

It was almost noon when Siel introduced the core question system. Each candidate was subjected to a multiple choice question and only if he answered correctly was he given the opportunity to spread his potential.

The first question was for a golden blond boy who looked like an angel. Madam Haclaire immediately felt sorry when Siel cleared his throat. 'Suppose you have just become king and the country is threatened by a prince, whose daughter is locked up in the highest tower of the dragon fortress. Only if you free that daughter in time, that prince will not terrorize your country and you will be allowed to marry that daughter. But the way to the dragon castle is a narrow walkway with rotten planks that could crack at any moment. What would you do?

a) take the footbridge even if you run the risk of falling to your death

b) employ a team to start building a safe structure for you to cross, but this will take two months and the frost may not have such patience

c) purchase a bizarre flying device with the government treasury and simply fly to the other side to free the princess.'The pacer frowned dejectedly and looked at the candidate expectantly. The young man nodded thoughtfully and then said, "I would choose the flying plane." His voice sounded strangely determined.

The counselor shook his head, laughing. 'Completely wrong. You are plundering the entire public purse, which means you will have to levy additional taxes. The people cannot afford this and become poor and we end up with a country that consists only of debts and an exploitative king, you can go.'

The boy was already turning around when Madam Haclaire tugged on Siel's sleeve. "Give him another chance, admit it, he looks such a good man." For a moment the counselor was drowned in her pleading blue eyes. "Okay, then, you can try again."

The young man pulled his hunched shoulders back up, laughing. "Then I would risk my life for that lady and my people by treading the dangerous rope bridge."

'So romantic!' exclaimed Madam Haclaire in delight.

This story is posted elsewhere by the author. Help them out by reading the authentic version.

"But unfortunately completely wrong again," Siel added. 'If you fall, the country will no longer have a king. You must have a construction built and, since your son is still at court, he can come up with a distracting plan to keep the prince busy for a while and have this carried out as a king's son. This gives you time to have the structure built.'

"That's ridiculous," the pacer snorted.

"Yes, sir," the royal candidate also replied. "I've only just become king, and I don't have a queen yet, so I don't have a son who can come up with that plan."

The counselor defended himself. 'Don't be difficult now, a son or no son, it doesn't matter. You were wrong, so this is it, goodbye."

The boy swallowed his protest and abruptly turned his back on Siel. Madam Haclaire did the same but on her seat and Dirrek gestured to the doorman to let in the next candidate. A half-giant who had to pull his head back a bit to avoid hitting the door entered the throne room. In five immense steps he stood in front of the stage and literally looked down on the jury. "Good afternoon, Jack Bulton, sergeant of the Underground City Army, professional swordsman and world champion of standing still." His voice seemed to come from very deep, rumbling in his throat.

'Standing World Champion?' Robert was surprised.

'Yes sir, stood still for 56 hours and 43 minutes without moving my feet or sitting down, everything else is allowed. I broke the two-day record. That's a testament to endurance and character."

Robert imagined for a moment that he himself would stand still there for more than two days and immediately got a tickling itch. 'What is the use of this in being king?'Bulton laughed like an erupting volcano. 'During a parade through his country, the king has to stand upright on his float all day long, not everyone is capable of that.'Siel frowned pointedly. 'Assume a pose like a king.'Jack immediately straightened his colossal back, pointed his chin toward the ceiling, and rested his right hand proudly on his chest. 'Dear compatriots...'

'Wow!' The pacer clapped his hands in delight. 'What a king!'

The counselor closed one eye. "I want to give you a chance to prove what you can do, mainly thanks to your years of service in the army."

Madam Haclaire nodded and Dirrek also agreed and although Robert strongly doubted his stasis capabilities, he also signed the form. The first candidate was chosen. After this robust half-giant, twins were also admitted, Slander and Vlander, two brave goblins, who were so sympathetic that they were allowed to make an attempt. Unfortunately, they were so small that Edgard, the butler, accidentally stepped on them when he wanted to escort them out and so the two brothers ended up in the infirmary. A mayor who had forgotten the name of his farm, intimidated Siel with a story about a counselor who saved his country from destruction. There were also the three piglets, who were too hungry to stay for just a few minutes but complemented each other's speech perfectly, and Sleeping Beauty who was disqualified because she could still sleep for a long time. Just before dinner another Arieman walked in carrying a large pack of papers under his arm, with all his specialties written out in detail. Dirrek decided that there was probably something good that a king should be able to do. Ariemen were an almost perfect variant of ordinary people. The pacer chose as his favorite a witch hunter whose face resembled a clock due to his bizarre scars.

Robert was overjoyed when Siel finally took a break in the evening and he was able to stretch his stiff legs. He resolutely chose the backyard that led to the beautiful palace garden. The gravel path crunched under his feet as he weaved through the yew hedges. He flopped on the grass near the huge palace pond. His stomach was growling but he didn't feel like eating anything. The white clouds passed slowly across the sky without stopping. Robert threw a pebble into the pond. The surface of the water rippled. He would have preferred to worry all day about the king, his leaking roof, Siel's nasty look in his back, but the ladies-in-waiting had dragged him along to show him their dresses. They were all equally ugly and kitschy, but they helped him stop worrying.

Suddenly a shout sounded in the distance, it was time to return because there were still many candidates in the queue for a place as replacement king.

Madam Haclaire had donned an orange dress with extravagant puffed sleeves for a change, and her hat had been replaced by a high updo with a pin in the shape of a hot air balloon. Robert sank down next to her while the pacer drummed furiously on his counting machine, filling in rows of numbers in endless columns and at the same time trying to stuff a chicken leg into his mouth. When Siel entered, he snatched his things from the pacer, threw them on the tray of the expectant Eugène and sat down with a broad grin. Before his colleague could grab him by the throat, Dirrek took his place between them and ordered the auditions to continue.

The first candidate suddenly fell asleep on the doorstep due to the fatigue of the day, his successor was half-drunk and the next five were all rejected because of their frivolity. Robert sighed angrily when the door opened again. But to his surprise, a slim, handsome and elegant young man appeared in beige trousers with brown, shiny riding boots. He also wore a fine shirt, a chocolate-colored overcoat, and a wide belt that cinched tightly around his narrow waist. On his head was a beautiful but simple lumberjack hat with a dark green plume and he shook hands with each of the council members in his black leather gloves.

'Good evening, dear gentlemen and dear lady, an enrichment for their company. I am Leo Niel. I have seen many leave and all because they miss what I possess. Rationality. Being willing to achieve many goals on the way to the top and not daydreaming about things that will never work out. Stay with both feet on the ground and then do what can be done. Being creative and stimulating in everything I do. Dare to take risks and bear responsibility and, above all, share the glory among everyone who has contributed. Implement justice and fairness in all roads of this country and be proud of every resident of Yths. I want to be your king!'

There was a silence. Siel stared at the newcomer in amazement, the pacer forgot to keep track of the seconds and Madam Haclaire's pin suddenly fell into her lap. Dirrek held his breath. Robert didn't know whether it was the soft but convincing voice or the dark, mysterious eyes that looked straight at him. Maybe it was his whole attitude or the sympathetic handshake or the lack of nerves with which this candidate stood before them, but he saw a great contender standing before him.

"Siel, Dirrek, Madam Haclaire," Robert just nodded to the pacer because he didn't know his name. 'I vote for.'

He signed the form. The rest followed. Siel forgot to ask the multiple choice question and wiped the invisible dust from his pants. "You're moving on, congratulations."

The young man nodded. 'It was a pleasure.' After a small bow he walked back outside. Although the other men were all allowed to introduce themselves, it remained with this last candidate. As the sun cast its last rays over Yths, the castle gates were closed. The members of the council enjoyed a lavish supper before returning to their rooms one by one.

Robert declined the offer to send a letter pigeon to Janus, Erim and Dorian and crawled under the royal sheets once again. The pillow felt soft. For a moment the image of the handsome, slim young man in his riding boots appeared before his sleepy eyes. 'It was a pleasure'. Robert smiled and pulled the blanket over his head. He will still go far, although the Arieman also has a great chance or Jack Bulton, almost invincible or... His eyes slid closed as the sun disappeared behind the horizon like a crimson ball.