In the early days of the Rebuilt Court, the Queen tired of wasting her breath on the unworthy. Courtiers, suitors, and opportunists alike crowded her halls with petitions, proposals, and poorly phrased compliments. So she commissioned a set of cards — small, elegant, and devastating — to deliver hersentiments with precision and poise.
Each slip bears the authority of the crown and the artistry of insult. Some sting like lightning, others smolderlike fire, and a few — the most dangerous — arrive shaped like kindness.
To carry them is to claim the Queen’s prerogative:the right to decline with dignity, to dismiss with style, and to remind the world that silence, when gilded properly, can cut deeper than any word.
Issued by royal decree for every occasion.
Emotionally expensive, financially inexpensive.
Also, consider the Queen's clutch for that added touch of "fuck around and find out" or simply "Not today, sir."
