Either that, or the fact that you lack a basic command of any dialect of the English language, heraldry, or symbolism, the Princess thought as she moved some food onto her plate with a pair of plastic tongs. She winced as the two women started eating straight from the platter with their hands. Household pets had better manners than these two.

It occurred to the Princess that the two women could actually be her subjects. Scotland, to which the Princess had attributed Sarah on account of her inability to speak normal Corporate English, was owned by the British Empire, despite numerous ill-fated revolts. Due to the aforementioned revolts and the fondness of the British for literally crushing them, many Scots fled the British Empire to enjoy the safety of her father’s peace, which promised a place for every man and every man in his place.

Namibia, judging by her elaborately braided locks, mythological tattoos, and, again, unjustified cruelty to Corporate English, was probably from the Martian Free State of Tharsis, “free state” being a code word for a country that was owned by her father but was just too charmingly quaint to take direct control of. While their charm could be disputed, Namibia and Sarah were decidedly quaint and, the Princess assumed, could be quite entertaining in the right setting, such as when viewed from an orbital telescope.

The Princess wiped her lips with a plain white napkin that smelled of lavender, a smell that reminded her of Martina in a not unpleasant way.

“Martin,” she asked, gingerly placing some meat on the floor for Audric’s benefit, “when does Martina’s shift start? I should like to discuss some matters of import with her.”

In truth, there was nothing she had to discuss with anyone in the mansion. She just had a strong urge to have a conversation with a person who had no evil intentions towards her royal person or the English language and could demonstrate a level of intelligence and style at least comparable with that of the common housecat.

“At least one maid is always on duty, mein fraulein. If you so desire, I can fetch one forthwith,” Martin said, startling Sarah and Namibia with his sudden reappearance. Martin’s preternatural elegance was too disconcerting to be comforting. Something about the man felt malevolent, despite his so far being the smoothest butler she’d ever seen in her life.

“I was actually referring to the one who waited on me last night. She is, well, eh … she has a burn mark here,” the Princess pointed at a spot on her chin that was still raw on Martina’s face.

“Ah, Martina, yes. Frau Martina was excused from her daily shift on account of general malaise of indeterminate nature.”

“Eh?” Sarah asked. “Dae ye mean that yer lassie is peely-wally?”

“Indeterminate nature,” Martin repeated with undisguised hostility.

“I’d like to pay her a visit,” the Princess said.

“I am afraid I’m going to have to decline this request on account of its contradiction of my master’s visitation protocol. On a personal note, I should care to add, that it is also somewhat inappropriate according to the universal code of conduct,” Martin said resolutely.

The Princess picked up a runcible spoon and pointed it at Martin. “I would like to introduce another factor for your consideration. If I’m not by Martina’s bed within fifteen minutes, I’m going to pick up the heaviest and hardest object in this room and beat you on the head with it until it breaks. Now, at this point in time, neither of us can be sure what ‘it’ exactly refers to though I personally hope that ‘it’ is your stupid head. Concurrently, my loyal sniffer is going to take a break from biting me and direct his full and undivided attention on your toes. Since you’re bound by the universal code of conduct to serve me, my being a petulant teenager about to throw a tantrum notwithstanding, you’d have to just stand there and take it like a good, law-abiding German.

“Now, given the new parameters of your situation, could you please reconsider my request and hopefully reach a more agreeable conclusion?” The Princess smiled a toothy smile. Sensing the tense atmosphere, Audric did likewise.

Sarah whistled appreciatively and Namibia said, “You go, girl!”

Martin chewed on his lip for a while, appearing to be deep in thought. Finally, he said without a hint of bitterness or resentment, “Please follow me.”