The man, still on one knee, closed his eyes and bowed his head. “If you don’t know who I am, then I have nothing to live for.” He spoke quietly, almost as if he were talking to himself.
This did not sound like the GarGar that Queen Pirouette had known and loved. She thought that she had memorized his face, but this was not the case. As she mentally reviewed her personal catalog of his features, his nose, his eyes, his mouth, she realized that she was unable to piece them together to form an image in her mind. Overcome with distress, she shouted at the man. “Just tell me your name! Answer me! Who are you?”