GarGar le comte des Deux Chats let the letter drop to the floor and heaved a sigh of relief. It was a commission, signed by the old King himself, to raise an army and lead it against the Imperial forces that were massed on the border. At last, here was his opportunity to escape from the stultifying atmosphere at court and to lead an expedition against the enemy. While he enjoyed some aspects of court life- the balls, the banquets, and courting Princess Pirouette for her hand, for the most part, he couldn’t stand the rumor mill that characterized life under the old King’s roof. The endless ceremonies that somehow seemed to give meaning the the old man’s reign. It was time to strike out and prove his worth as a general.
When Pirouette got the news that GarGar would be leaving soon for the front, she employed that age-old device and unfurled her fan, hiding most of her face behind its folds. While part of her enjoyed the attention that the dashing comte showered upon her, another part of her just wanted a little peace and quiet. She was still trying to come to terms with the notion that he would be her husband. Yes! He was handsome. Yes! He was charming, but his constant attendance on her, his endless stream of compliments, were beginning to ring hollow. She knew the Count to be a most charming individual, the most handsome of the courtiers in the palace, but she also knew him to be ambition. If Pirouette resembled a goat, his stream of compliments would have been the same. This sad truth tired the Princess and made her wish that he’d simply give her a much-needed rest from the bowing, hand-kissing and endless dancing to punctuated her typical day at the palace.
“Goodbye, GarGar,” she murmured to herself. “Your princess needs a break.”