GarGar took Pirouette’s hand and held it in both of his. Looking intently into her eyes, he tried to speak but his words seemed to be caught in his throat. He hymned and hawed for a moment, finally shaking off the trepidation that had seized him. “My dear,” he said. “This kingdom is not one monolithic race of people, but rather a conglomerate of different cultures and ethnicities. There is a great variety of voices, thoughts, attitudes and ideas. There are even many misconceptions between these distinct groups.”
Pirouette snatched her hand back from GarGar. “Do you think I am a fool?” She queried. “Why do you think I know how to speak four languages? It is so I can communicate with my subjects, when the time comes, in whatever vernacular they speak!” Not for the first time, she felt irritated and disappointed in her fiancé who didn’t seem to appreciate her intellect.