I’m fairly certain that this is a member of the Sulfur clan. There’s a variety called Pink Edged, and they are fairly rare. Often, the outer edge fades, but the circle on the wing maintains its pigment longer. So as a shot in the dark, I’m calling this fellow a Silver Edged Sulfur. If anyone else has some input on this, please leave a comment! We love comments!
Watching the palace guard frogmarch the Chief Cook into her informal Presence Chamber, Queen Pirouette felt a tinge of sympathy for the poor man. This was the third time, in as many days, that the Queen had summoned the portly, red-faced man to come to her. This last time, she’d told the Captain of the palace guards, “Don’t be overly gentle with him.” They took her at her word.
The guard gave the Chief Cook a shove and he fell to his knees in front of Pirouette, who was sitting on a daybed, her lap covered with a pile of paperwork that followed her wherever she went. Grabbing a handful of the papers, she shook them in front of the Cook and then tossed them into the air. “Do you see how hard I work, day and night, for the welfare of my people? How am I supposed to fulfill my duties when I have a cook who insists on serving me food that he must know I won’t eat?”
The poor man began to sputter, but Her Majesty cut him off with the wave of a hand. “I am demoting you,” she said as evenly as she knew how. “You are changing places with your number one assistant. Now I don’t want to hear about any infighting or discord in the kitchens. You shall train your assistant to the best of your ability. You can start by telling him to ignore anything the doctors tell him about what fare I should be eating. Do you understand me?”
The Chief Cook nodded his head, but didn’t say a word. He eyes were trained firmly on his shoes. Etiquette forbad him from looking the Queen directly in the eyes. A single tear trickled down one of his cheeks.