[The Queen stood at the very center of the gardens, surrounded by orchard on every side. With a smile gracing her face, she walks slowly over to the nearest tree, and touches the bark. She runs her hand up and down its rough surface, almost wistfully. And then, with only the slightest of hesitation, she leans in and kisses the tree.]
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Th-that's... that's not really how autumn works, Your Majesty. I'm a bit concerned for your trees.
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[She seems to be having trouble coming up with the words.]
Oh, blast, I have such trouble with your language sometimes. I know the answer, but I don't have words for it you'll understand.
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