Each day, she appeared in a new outfit that was, technically, perfectly legal.
“Originality is the mother of frivolity, Your Majesty,” he replied, polishing his shears. “And frivolity is the father of... poor time management.” frivolousdressorder
The next day, she wore a dress made entirely of interlocking felt rectangles. “Platonic solids, my lord. The very bedrock of reality.” He nodded, unable to argue with bedrock. Each day, she appeared in a new outfit
Lord Pence stared, his shears trembling in his hand. “That... that spiral has no practical application!” poor time management
“Lord Pence,” the Queen said, standing up. “I find the Princess’s dress to be deeply educational. And I find your shears to be... frivolous. They are a frivolous tool for a frivolous law. I hereby repeal the Frivolous Dress Order.”
Bartholomew Pence dropped his shears. They clattered on the marble floor.
It was a masterpiece of ambiguity. Did it ban dresses that were frivolous? Or was the order itself frivolous? The courtiers, terrified of the Queen’s unpredictable moods, chose the harshest interpretation.