Once Queen Pirouette finished her speech to Parliament, she was rewarded with thunderous applause. Great had been the fear that due to her extreme youth that she would muddle the ceremony, or introduce crazy policies and legislative proposals. Instead, every step she took was perfectly measured. Her speech was a model of moderation. So great was the relief by members of Parliament, that some wept with joy, others nearly fainted into the arms of the their colleagues.
Solemn, poised, graceful and regal, she proceeded down the main aisle of the Parliament House. Those members closest to her as she passed knelt and sought to kiss the hem of her skirt. Others even tried to seize her hand. She brushed by them as though they weren’t even there. Before her, two members of the elite palace guards carried her orb and scepter on red velvet cushions.
When the doors of the Parliament opened for her, Pirouette saw a stage that had been hastily erected, upon which stood at least two dozen children dressed in simple white robes. They began to sing the national anthem. Pirouette stopped in order to listen. Not one given to public displays of emotion or maudlin expressions of the same, the sight and sound of the little ones had a profound effect on the Queen. She smiled benignly at them, fighting back the impulse to cry. Just then, the smallest, prettiest little girl approached and offered her a small bouquet of white flowers. “God bless your Majesty!” The child said proudly.
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