Doing acrobatics

“Look, look! I can do a handstand! With one hand!”

Arthur’s smile comes into view upside-down. “Very impressive,” he says.

“Can you do it?” you ask, idly shifting your weight to your other hand.

“Oh, I haven't tried since I was your age. I think I would only make a fool of myself,” he admits with a sheepish chuckle.

You ease yourself down on the grass and shrug. “It’s never too late to try again.”

The way his face scrunches up, you doubt he shares your optimism. “I… A king needs his bones intact, preferably.”

“Come on, try it!”

Arthur steels himself and tries to do a handstand, or at least that’s what you think he’s doing; it’s sort of hard to tell with all the flailing going on. He finally tumbles down unto the grass, admitting defeat. You unsuccessfully stifle a laugh.

With as much dignity as he can muster, he says: “I think I’ll leave the acrobatics to you.”

You don’t argue with that, but you do get down to the task with enthusiasm, proceeding to do a couple more cartwheels and roundoffs, showing off your skill, before settling down on the grass opposite Arthur.

“I asked Accolon if I could use these moves in my swordfighting, but he said you only see that in theater plays.”

“Oh, I know the sort. Our parents used to take Kay and I to see them. We’d often bring Lance along with us. When we got back home, Kay would try to recreate the stunts: the cartwheels, the rolls, sweeping someone’s legs with a sword while doing a handstand. With a practice wooden sword”, he hastily adds. “He wasn’t that reckless even as a child”, he chuckles. “He mostly didn’t fumble the moves, and it looked fun, but I don’t think it would have been any effective in an actual fight.”

You consider his words, the nod. “It does sound fun”, you say not really caring about practicality or efficacy. “Maybe I should try it too.”

“Carefully,” Arthur adds on.

You simply nod, placating, then ask: “Do you go anymore? To those shows.”

“No, we don’t go these days. They come to the castle. Theater troupes clamor to give the royal family a spectacle.”

“Must be nice”, you say, pulling at a handful of grass. “They don’t clamor to our castle.”

Arthur gives you a sympathetic smile. “Well, why don’t we go to them, then?”

You perk up. “When? When?”

Arthur chuckles. “Well, whenever they’re playing, obviously.”

“We must go and find out right now!”

You don’t wait for an answer before springing to your feet and sprinting up towards the castle, Arthur in tow, laughing, half-bemused, half-delighted.