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I decided to take Ronda on a luxury leisure drive to view my whole kingdom. I pulled out all the stops and hired an old fashioned coach pulled by no less than six white stallions. Pelicanus adventurously volunteered to replace the snooty coachman but I bribed a minion to tie him to his bed until we got back from our trip around the countryside. Ronda spent the morning having numerous pampering beauty treatments and a relaxing massage and smelt like a garden full of red roses when she finally took her place in the polished coach. She sported a white and red polka dotted scarf and donned huge sunglasses that made her look like Jackie O. She gracefully emulated the queen of England and did the wave thing which had the numerous onlookers sighing and smiling as they nodded their heads in approval. My Ronda was an instant hit. She had won over the hearts of my people without even trying too hard. She was fit to be a queen. My queen.
Pelicanus fumed for a week after he had finally managed to untie himself. He stomped around on tall, gangly pelican legs, his knobby knees making awkward squeaky sounds matching the clicking of his tongue whenever he happened to glance my way. He still carried his camera and measuring tape around but was careful not to use it where I could see him. Now and then I would happen to glance up and found him staring at me with a scheming light in his eyes. I know that look all too well. Pelicanus only had that particular look about him when he had something up his sleeve. Something was definitely cooking away in that brain of his. But what? Ronda just laughed when I shared my concerns with her. She was having too much of a good time enjoying the amenities the Vaalnest Boutique Hotel had to offer to worry about a slightly deranged pelican who snuck around and peeked at us from behind trees. I decided to invite Pelicanus for tea on the porch but he declined, saying he had a million things to do. I was getting very worried.