Arthur made his way towards the Great Hall, thence towards the private apartments. The two guards to the royal apartments stood to attention. Arthur looked at them. "Tut, full plate mail, as if I had the money to buy full plate mail for my door guards."
"Excuse me my Lord?" said the one on the right.
"Never mind, my good man," he remarked as he opened the door into the royal suite.
Guinevere was sitting at her dressing table, a handmaiden brushing her hair as she powdered her face.
"Have you seen the Queen?" asked Arthur.
"I am the Queen, why Arthur do you not recognise me?"
"Oh, sorry dear, getting confused for a moment. Just checking you were going for your morning ride." Arthur scratched his bald head through his wig.
"Why of course, would you like to come?"
"No, I thought I'd have a meeting of the round table before lunch, then have a go at a round of golf after."
"Golf?"
"A game with clubs invented in Scotland."
"Scotland?"
"A land to the North of England."
"England?"
"A name we will give to the part of Britannia we are now living in."
"Oh," she looked back in the mirror, "steady Miriam, I do want to have some hair left when you're quite finished."
"Sorry, your highness," said Miriam.
"That's more than I could have wished for. All queens alike, I suppose," murmured Arthur. "High and mighty ruined princesses."
"What did you say dear?"
"Wide and flighty ruined the dresses."