Princess Pirouette sat at her new desk. The polished surface was not visible for all of the papers scattered on it. Lord Boyd, the prime minister’s youngest secretary, personally delivered the piles earlier that morning. Pirouette was aghast. “What am I supposed to do with this?” She asked the secretary incredulously. “My suggestion is that you start from the bottom,” he said smoothly, before bowing low and departing as quickly as he’d arrived.
Chewing her bottom lip, Pirouette took Lord Boyd’s advice and pulled a paper from the bottom of the largest pile. The script was ornate and unfamiliar to her, but she squinted her eyes and tried to sound out the letters. “Whereas the people of the capital have found their streets to be piled with rubbish, and whereas …” That was all she could glean from the document. Scanning further down, she made out the words, “Therefore His Most Gracious Majesty…” Dipping her quill into the ink pot, she began to underline the words that she didn’t understand.