...no matter where she is. Safely seated, she considered the situation. She needed to appoint a Deputy for Freda Knight swiftly if she was to have any chance of keeping order in Knightingale village... but who? THAT was the question. "What are One's options, Beefy?" she asked her right-hand man. "Well, Ma'am, as I see it, there are only two suitable candidates," he said thoughtfully, "Firstly, there is Lord Havasham..." but he got no further before the Queen interrupted, "WHAT?! That irresponsible old Casanova?! In charge of the fate of the whole village when he can't even control himself? One thinks NOT!" she said emphatically. "Well then, Ma'am, might I suggest that Edith Dolltea, JP and well-known Pillar-of-the-Communnity, would be eminently suitable for the task?" The Queen looked like she'd swallowed a slug, "EDITH DOLLTEA??? But she's not even a Grec... um, she's not... well, One expects she is far too busy in court to take this on," she said thinking of recent reports of Dolltea's detestable little son, what was his name again? Tom, yes, Tom Dolltea, parading around in a crown, no no no no no, THAT woman would be plotting treason before sundown and she wasn't going to let some plastic-headed upstart be the unwinding of her. "Lord Havasham it will have to be then," she declared firmly, "Now leave One be, Beefy. One wishes to exercise the birds before dinner and One's cree needs a good mucking out," Gavin the Grenadier sighed inwardly but retained his composure outwardly: he knew who'd be doing that job and it wasn't her Maj.