_best_: Frivolousdressorder

Lord Pence stared, his shears trembling in his hand. “That... that spiral has no practical application!”

And for the first time, Bartholomew Pence almost smiled. frivolousdressorder

“No reason,” she said. “That’s what makes it good.” Lord Pence stared, his shears trembling in his hand

The Queen, meanwhile, sat in her throne room, which now resembled a very comfortable monastery. She wore a sturdy, brown sack. It itched. She missed the whisper of velvet against her ankles, the gentle weight of a pearl chandelier earring. She had issued the decree in a fit of pique after a visiting duchess had worn a dress so large it required its own postal code, blocking the main corridor for three hours. But now, boredom had set in. Lord Pence stared