Princess Pirouette was still trying to digest the prime minister’s revelation when she retreated to her own chambers in the palace. All she could think was that my lord prime minister was trying to bait her, or that he was operating under some kind of misconception that the old King had been poisoned. Why would anyone want to poison His Majesty? She thought to herself. As his immediate heir, she had the most to gain from such an inglorious act and she knew that she was quite innocent of the charge. Who then?
Lady Greenmeadow’s recognizable rap-a-tap-tap on the door pulled Pirouette from her musings. “Come in, my lady.” She said with a hint of irritation in her voice. “What is it?”
Her Ladyship employed a deep curtsy, eyes to the floor, and said, “Your Most Royal Highness, forgive the interruption, but your new dresser has arrived. May I introduce Miss Abigail Hoffenhoff?”