By mid-morning, Queen Pirouette was normally fatigued from all of the letters, reports and dispatches that she’d been reading, that she would take a little exercise. This consisted of horseback riding with her select friends (male and female) of the endless pool of sycophantic courtiers. Sometimes, for a semblance of solitude, she would walk in the gardens with a few palace guards in tow. If the weather was foul, she might opt for a few rounds of tennis with Lady Abigail.
After a small luncheon, often with a foreign dignitary or a member of the higher clergy, she would sit with her Privy Council to discuss serious matters of state. By sheer force of will, Queen Pirouette worked tirelessly to be a good ruler. The men of the court, who at first took umbrage at having to bend their knees to a woman, a young woman at that, learned to respect her wisdom and dedication to duty. The loss of her beloved GarGar had brought a change to Pirouette. Any trace of the flighty girl who liked to dance until dawn was gone. Gone forever.