Lo, upon a star-lit eve in the fair lands of Los Angeles, at the noble house of Chateau Marmont, there gathered the radiant kin of the famed minstrel Sir Roderick of Stewart. The occasion? A jolly repast and merry fellowship, shared with his beloved consort, Lady Penny of Lancaster, and his fair-haired daughter, the Lady Kimberly.
Sir Rod, though aged 68 winters, did carry himself with cheer and vigor, his spirits high as he emerged from the evening’s revels. Dressed in fine garb—sand-hued trousers, a blazer of sky, and a tie of blue—he cut the figure of a nobleman prepared for courtly affairs. ‘Twas said he had just come from a performance upon the great stage of The Tonight Show of Sir Leno, where he had shared song and jest alike.
Yet it was not the minstrel’s music that echoed through the streets that night—but rather the laughter shared between husband and wife.
As they approached their gilded carriage (or motor-chariot, as it is called in this age), Sir Rod tarried, speaking kindly to the townsfolk and photographers who gathered as witnesses. But Lady Penny, ever the playful mistress, did gently press upon her lord’s noble brow, bidding him with a grin: “Mind thy head, my love!” as she ushered him into the carriage like a dutiful and impish squire. The crowd did erupt in mirth, and lo—it was a moment of chivalry and jest, captured for the ages.
📸 “In ye go!” quoth the scribes, as Lady Penny, towering in beauty at six feet tall and adorned in a gown of black lace, guided her lord into the waiting chariot. Her limbs, long as the spears of the Queen’s Guard, were clad in slender heels black as a raven’s wing, giving the illusion of a goddess walking the Earth.
Beside her stood Lady Kimberly, daughter of the house, who matched her stepmother in beauty and stature. She too wore black—her raiments revealing both grace and daring, with a backless gown and golden tresses cascading like silk down her spine. A noble competition of limbs and loveliness did ensue, and the people murmured: “Tis a war of legs most wondrous to behold!”
As they prepared to depart, Lady Penny was seen taking a painted likeness (known in these lands as a photograph) of the Chateau’s great sign—perhaps to keep in memory the joy of this family night.
Also present at the table was Lord Sean, son of Sir Rod, who partook in the evening’s feast. Yet the younger scions—Aiden and Alistair, as well as kin from afar—Sarah, Ruby, Renee, and Liam—were not in attendance, their absence no doubt felt by all.
In recent discourse with the famed court jester and broadcaster, Sir Howard of Stern, Lord Rod did confess the trials of finding solace and quiet within his grand and boisterous manor. “Four of mine children dwell within,” he mused, “and though our halls are vast, the halls echo with ceaseless mirth and noise.”
With a wink most roguish, he added:
“In truth, our time alone lies between journeys to the warm lands of Florida. There, I find the peace… and perchance a dalliance or two with my beloved lady.”
Thus ended the eve—not with fanfare or horns, but with smiles, winks, and familial joy. For even the great knights of rock and roll must bend their heads to enter the carriage, guided by the gentle hand of love.
