The Queen’s Privy Council had been in session for three hours. At noon, Her Majesty was scheduled to give a speech to a Synod of Bishops, so she rose from her seat and called for an adjournment. The men sitting around the table all rose, bowed and made a hasty exit. “My lord, le compte,” she said to GarGar, “would you be so kind as to attend me?”
GarGar grinned and bowed. He caught a few glares from the other men in the room, but he discounted them. Jealousy is a green-eyed monster, he thought to himself. “Yes, ma’am,” he said. “I am at your service.” Pirouette suppressed a smile. “Thank you, my lord,” she said in return. After the others had left the room, Pirouette took GarGar’s arm and leaned into him. “I need to talk to you in my bedchamber,” she whispered. Wide-eyed with surprise, GarGar simply nodded. With his hands, he made a symbol that meant, “When?” He and the Queen had developed a secret method for communication in order to keep their conversations private, even when they were in a room full of people.
Pirouette, still holding him by the arm, whispered again into his ear. “There has been a malfunction in my spy network. I suspect sabotage.”
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