Asterix in Athens

Semi-returned from an unwanted brink, I've a true (I assure) tale to weave, one witnessed first-handedly. This time the setting is a palace.
"Sire?" (Here's where I caught wind of the situation, the speaker a small, bell-clad jester.)
"Ah, there you are," said a king of sorts. "Tell me, what is the nature of your relationship with Lord Yansen?"
"My relationship with Lord Yansen, sire?"
"Yourrelationshipwithlordyansensire."
"Well, he's my mentor, sire."
"Your mentor?"
"Yes, sire."
"And what exactly does that entail?"
"Well, sire, it entails him teaching me things what I don't already know."
"I see. And what things are these?"
"Usually, he starts by teaching me how to use the piano, sire."
"And after that?"
"After that he teaches me about acting."
"Pardon?"
"—Sire."
"I see. And is there more after that?"
"Um—"
"Um?"
"Yes, sire."
"Well, go on."
"Yes, sire. After that, he— He—"
"He what?"
"He—"
"He what!"
"...Handles me, sire."
"A fine piece of music, but I don't see what that has to do with Lord Yansen."

Well, you can imagine how this went down with the tour group. I mean, what are the chances? Heck, if I wasn't there myself I'd never believe it. But I was. And I do. And if I lie, may God strike me down.