“How I miss my beloved GarGar,” sighed Queen Pirouette, hiding most of her visage behind a fan. Abigail turned to her with downcast eyes.
“Has Your Majesty considered taking a lover?” She whispered.
Snapping her fan shut, Pirouette looked aghast at her friend. “I thought you knew me better than that, Abby!” She exclaimed. Handing her fan to another of her ladies in waiting, Abigail Hoffenhoff felt the sting of reject. The Queen normally put the fan in her hand. Mortified, she watch her friend and sovereign sail out of her boudoir with nary a glance. When she moved to follow Pirouette, the Queen held out the palm of her hand and said, “Wait here. I shall call you if I need your assistance.”
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