The King and Queen of Griffonia, along with their squad of twenty heavily armed royal guards, were [i]never[/i] going to fit inside Griswielda's tent. It was out of the question. Even without their trumpets and swords and bulky armor and all the pouches that the guards seemed to carry... awkwardly... in their belts. Awkwardly, like they weren't normally there. Like they were there for this trip specifically...

...Very [i]bumpy[/i] pouches. And were they jingling?

Griswielda swung her eagle arms in a circle and bowed, welcoming her guests inside. She grinned stupidly. "Your Majesties!" she managed, her bedazzled and somewhat offensive turban jangling quietly. "Whatever brings you here to my tent?"

King Gorderia scanned the fortune teller from her black head feathers to her blunted talons and back up again. He was probably visualizing her inside his guillotine, just to make sure she could fit. He snapped a talon. A single guard stepped forward, his pouch [i]most certainly jingling.[/i] He unfurled a scroll.

"Are you Griswielda, the Magnificent, the Blindingly Accurate Augurist, the Seer of the Unknown, the—"

Griswielda waved a talon dismissively. "Yes, yes, I'm all of those. To what do I owe the pleasure?"

The guard stammered, but pretended he didn't. "His Royal Majesty King Gorderia, or 'Gord' among his friends, which you are not, wishes to have a fortune told."

Griswielda squinted. King Gorderia was decidedly [i]not[/i] a griffon who wondered about his future. He owned the future. Quite officially, in fact: He had his attendant draft up a deed and everything. There was a parade.

"I don't understand," Griswielda answered smartly.

"It is not for me," the king clarified. Queen Gree smiled meekly and rubbed her stomach.

"A-ha... Congratulations," Griswielda said. "Am I to assume that your... expectation is what I'm to foretell?"

The royal couple nodded.

Feeling brave, Griswielda pushed. "Well, my rate..."

A pouch crashed to the floor and spilled gold outwards. Griswielda tingled all over. She grinned inwardly. 

To have so much money that they didn't even think to just threaten her with capital punishment. It was splendid. She had a ranking system, where she sorted the most gullible to the least gullible types of griffons and gave fortunes accordingly. These two were in the top percentile for sure. 

She threw her head back, her eyes rolling back into her head. She chanted improvised nonsense.

"O'Kasala Minthior...! O-ho! Your child will have a [i]remarkable[/i] future. I see many great [i]events[/i] in their royal life. I see a kingdom full of prosperous griffons, not a one of which failing to respect the new heir to the throne." The guillotine was public knowledge, so that last part was always true.

Gorderia and his wife clutched talons and looked at each other nauseatingly. Griswielda raised the claw that she had them wrapped around.

"But!"

The royals visibly clenched.

"Burfertur... Manial... I see many hardships!" 

A gasp from one of the guards.

"...Hardships that will shape them into a better leader. Hardships that they must tackle on their own!" There was always room for some parenting advice in Griswielda's fortunes.

King Gorderia interrupted. "Why are you saying 'they'?"

"Beg pardon?"

"If you can see their future, surely you know the gender."

Griswielda frowned, but she made it look like she was concentrating. "Well, not every couple wants to know..."

The king and queen scooted forward. "We want to know," the king said.

Griswielda panicked. She stopped thinking of the baby's future and pondered her own. She saw two distinct paths before her. One of them led to fame, fortune, and unending respect. The other led to certain execution. But which was which?

"Hocus Pocus...It's a boy?" she hazarded. The royal couple raised opposite eyebrows. "Yes, yes... I see it now! It's a boy!"

"Hurrah!" the king shouted. The guards repeated his exclamation, shaking the whole tent with their cheer, and nearly bursting Griswielda's only working eardrum. She pretended she was receiving a vision as she covered said ear.

"My boy shall be a great king!" the current king celebrated. "He will explore the world, create new alliances, and conquer those stupid ponies!"

The queen rubbed her stomach expectantly, cooing. Griswielda cringed.

The guards abruptly yet ceremoniously dumped their pouches on the dirt and escorted the royal couple out of the tent. Griswielda waved them goodbye and closed the flap. Her dirty floor now shined with gold varnish. She collapsed into it and made a gold angel out of the coins.

"I'm going to die," she presumed.