No Great Magic
That age point fascinated me so much that I risked asking her a question. Probably I was figuring that she couldn't do me much damage because of the positions we happened to be in at the moment. You see, I'd started to lace her up and to do it right I had my knee against the tail of her spine.
"How old, I mean how young might your majesty be?" I asked her, innocently wonderingly like some dumb serving wench.
For a wonder she didn't somehow swing around and clout me, but only settled into character a little more deeply.
"Fifty-four winters," she replied dismally. "'Tiz Januarius of Our Lord's year On