Standing on the prow of the ship with her herald standing directly behind her, Queen Pirouette waved obligingly at the crowds that lined both sides of the riverbed. Her flag which depicted a unicorn argent on a field of white with a golden crown around its neck. It was a fairly simple design of her own making. Trumpeters, half a dozen, blew tunelessly. They weren’t onboard to make music. They were they to let the people know that Her Majesty was coming. From the crow’s nest, a man with a good, strong arm threw silver coins at the people. So this is where my taxes are going, he thought as he tossed the money at the sea of outstretched arms.
“Jesus Christ!” Said the Queen over her shoulder to the herald. “My arm is getting tired! Abigail!” She shouted to her chief lady-in-waiting. “Get over here and wave at these people. They don’t know me from Adam. Here, put on my crown.”
Abigail laughed. “You can’t be serious.”
“Just who do you think you’re talking to?” Said Pirouette sternly. “Well?”
“Your Majesty!” Replied Lady Abigail tartly. “Your wish is my command.”
“Your loyalty to Our Royal Person is truly moving,” hissed Pirouette, oozing sarcasm. “I’m going to marry you off to the first troll I see!”
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