The midday sun beat down on the crowd assembled in the Town Square. Pigeons flocked to and fro, landing on several peasants’ heads. The priest’s voice echoed around the buildings.

“King Hugo Fritzgerald Winko Hinavere XXXXVI was…a respectable man.”

Several in the croud booed. Prince Hugo stared sadly out at them.

“Sure, he may not have actually defended the coast from that Dragon of Antelle, nor actually battle the ferocious Gorgon-Beast of Ibarice, nor fight when our city was being overrun by invaders—”

“All right, all right, that’s enough,” said Prince Hugo as he stepped out from his chair beside the casket. He took the podium from the old man. “Look, I’m not saying my father was the best of kings. Nor the best of men. But if you could show me the best of men, I would eat my helmet. So my father didn’t do those things. But I am what I am today because of him. I can only hope I can be the best of kings for my people.”

“Time to eat’cha ‘elmet,” a peasant cheered, looking at him.