Akiko in the Castle of Alia Rellapor by Mark Crilley

asked.
    “Oh, it was just a silly little misunderstanding, Akiko,” Alia explained with a smile. “I’m sure we can hardly even remember what it was about now, can we, dear?”
    “Indeed,” the King agreed, chuckling. “A laughably trivial matter, as I recall.”
    “Now hang on a minute, here,” I said, planting my hands firmly on my hips. “We’ve gone through an awful lot of trouble to get the two of you back together. I want some details on this little spat of yours.”
    “Yes, well . . . ,” King Froptoppit began, turning to Alia with a look of mild discomfort, “. . . correct me if I’m wrong, dear, but it was something about my last name not being quite
good
enough for you, wasn’t it?”
    “Come now,” Alia answered very matter-of-factly, turning to address everyone present, “I’m sure you’d all agree that ’Alia Froptoppit’ doesn’t have nearly the same
lilt
as ’Alia Rellapor.’”
    “I think ’Froptoppit’ has an
abundance
of lilt,” the King answered with an angry snort.
    “Okay, okay, I get the general idea!” I said. “Look, you two have got to
watch
it with these little spats. That’s when guys like Throck step in and turn everything upside down!”
    King Froptoppit walked toward me, dropped down on one knee, and placed his hands on my shoulders.
    “You’re quite right, Akiko,” he said very solemnly. “
Quite
right. Alia and I owe you a debt of gratitude that can never be fully repaid. Indeed, you’ve done more than just reunite our family. You’ve saved the planet Smoo from tyranny!”
    He stopped and took several big sniffs with his oversized nose.

    SHNIFF SHNIFF SHNIFF.
    “Ahem,” he coughed, rising to his feet. “Now don’t take this personally, but I’m ordering all of you to the royal bathhouses to be, er,
freshened
up
a bit.”
    Mr. Beeba, Spuckler, and I all stared at each other and blushed. Let’s face it: Five days without a bath doesn’t do much for a person’s body odor. We were all
seriously
stinky.
    “When you’re done with that, we will reconvene in the royal gardens,” King Froptoppit announced, his voice now filled with gleeful anticipation. “Today there will be a celebration in this palace the likes of which you’ve never seen!”

 Chapter 20 

    The rest of the day was a bit of a blur. I was escorted to the royal bathhouses by a team of heavyset women who led me from one scented, steamy pool to the next. One of them washed my hair, another scrubbed my feet, and yet another filed my nails. Finally they just let me soak for a while in a hot tub that swirled gently around me like a slow-motion whirlpool.
    While I was in the baths, someone had washed and pressed my T-shirt and jeans and all my other clothes (they even replaced my shoelaces!), so when I got dressed I felt as clean and fresh as the night I’d left home. Even cleaner, really, if you want to know the truth.

    I was then led out to the royal gardens, which were every bit as gorgeous as Prince Froptoppit had said. There were trees of every size and shape and flowers of every color. In the middle of the garden was an enormous yellow tent stretched over table after table of
delicious-looking food. A large band of musicians was making beautiful but very unusual music, like a symphony slowly being played backward.
    In the center of everything stood a big round table for the guests of honor. Spuckler was there, having
evidently just received a shave and a haircut. He looked very handsome but very embarrassed to be so clean! Mr. Beeba was dressed in some sort of official robe, with matching gloves and a very scholarly-looking hat. Gax had been polished up as clean as they could make him. (Actually I couldn’t see much of a difference, but at least they’d tried.) And of course Poog was there too. I don’t know if he’d been given a bath or not, but he certainly looked happy and very proud.
    The gates of the gardens were thrown open so that all the people of Smoo could