Queen Margot herself! she mused as she looked wistfully at her key ring. You could not have sent her at a better time. Thank You, Lord. “I presume you are ready,” a voice curtly said in an upper-class British accent. Alice looked up.. … A short, heavyset woman wearing a blonde perm and a long gown was standing over her. Alice jumped to her feet. “Ready, ma’am? For what?” “You’ve forgotten? Or has chumming with the Queen of Hearts turned your head? Although turning it is admittedly better than swelling it, I suppose.” “Upon my word, I honestly do not know what you mean, ma’am.” The woman huffed and looked at her watch while straightening the straps of her ample brassiere. “This whole thing is being thrown, as they say in deplorable vernacular, for your sake, Queen Alice. And I am the one who has been running myself ragged to coordinate the affair. My husband and I, along with that delightful chap from the Useless Status, Benny Goldstone, have invested heavily in bringing it to pass.” “Er … excuse me, ma’am. But did you also say Queen Alice?” “I did so. Oh, I suppose I should introduce myself. I am Brittany.” “Oh, as in Brittany Spears, ma’am?” “God forbid, child! As in Brittany Rhombus of the Royal House of Harrick.” Alice curtseyed. “Pleased to meet you, Your…” “Auntie Britt to you, Alice, now that you have joined me in bearing the crown. Do you not remember?” “You do seem familiar, ma’am. Oh my goodness, yes! Queen Britannica … you were a playing … umm … was it in that … er … dream?” “Experience, rather,” said Brittany, guiding Alice to the double doors of a conference hall. “Now we should make an appearance. Remember to walk stately. And should hors d’oeuvres be offered, politely decline, and remember to sip your drink holding the glass between your thumb and forefinger and with your little finger daintily extended.” “I don’t know if I feel up to such a stately occasion, ma’am. …” “Fiddlesticks, child!” said Brittany as a pair of liveried valets opened the doors for them. Upon entering the hall teeming with elegant guests, Alice stopped and drew her breath. An enormous banquet table laden with all manner of sumptuous gourmet food and drink ran down the middle, and, on a stage at the far end, a tuxedo-clad orchestra was playing what Alice recalled as the Commission Symphony. To her astonishment, giant oil paintings executed in various styles from clas-
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