Howl's Moving Castle - State With Kings

Chapter 4: Of White Socks and Black Ties

Howl's Moving Castle

Chapter 5: Of White Socks and Black Ties

Sophie nervously wrapped the end of her sleeves around her hands. She had been fidgeting ever since they had arrived at the palace, and that had been nearly two hours ago.

Out of the corner of her eye, she caught a glimpse of Markl pulling at his little black bow tie with a disgusted look on his face. In retrospect, Sophie could see that she tied it a little too tight, but at the time it had seemed like just treatment.

Earlier that afternoon, when the party had pulled out their nicest clothes, Markl had stubbornly refused to wear the black dress suit that Sophie had found hidden in the back of his closet underneath countless unrecognizable old toys and broken potion bottles. Markl had been so adamantly opposed to the business that he hid behind the tub in the bathroom and frightened Sophie when she came in to take her bath. In the end, Markl was in the suit and Sophie took care to watch him and make sure he didn't shed any clothing along the way to the palace.

Back in the present, Sophie sighed and watched the little hand of the large grandfather clock on the opposite side of the room slowly creep around its circular path. Every time another second had passed, the hand would emit a very light clicking noise, but everyone in the room seemed to hear it. The room that they had been waiting in was large with tall ceilings, and every sound echoed through it in a foreboding manner.

Howl sat in a medium-sized, elegant gold chair next to Sophie. His eyes were fixed on an impressive portrait of a large, furry dog. He had been staring at the portrait for so long that Sophie began to suspect he had fallen asleep with his eyes open again. Meanwhile, on the other side of the room, the Witch was busy exclaiming things like "what a lovely room!" and "I wonder who this could be?" whenever she turned towards one of the numerous paintings that surrounded them.

Just when Sophie was ready to give up on the dinner altogether, the Prince made his grand entrance. The double doors at the end of the hall swung open violently and two impressive looking men dressed in red velvet appeared and each took hold of their respective doorknob.

Three men in a single file line came next, each bearing various inanimate objects in their hands. One carried a moderate sized canvas, another a glass of water, and the other a small velvet box. Each man held the objects with the care of handling something like a newborn baby, and none of the three looked up from their careful tasks.

Finally, the Prince stepped through the door. "My honored guests!" he cried with a grand sweep of his arms. He immediately walked towards Sophie, taking her hand and kissing it in the proper style. "And, of course, my darling Sophie," he added quietly.

Sophie was not sure what made her more uncomfortable: his use of the word 'darling' or the apparent rudeness of his late entrance. She understood that he was a prince, and as such an exact schedule was hard to come by, but he had invited them to his home at the time. It had been hard enough just to get everyone out of the castle, let alone encouraging a brisk pace to their destination.

But, in spite of her inner thoughts, Sophie replied, "It is our honor, your Highness."

The Prince smiled, and finally released her hand. "Shall we dine, then? My chefs have prepared something exquisite, no doubt. Of course, it is nothing compared to your cooking, Sophie…" he added, his voice trailing off as he moved towards the doors through which he had just entered. Then, as if realizing that he had forgotten something, he turned around and offered Sophie his arm.