The Crown Noun’s left eye twitched. It was a slight, almost imperceptible, movement.
“I have more pressing matters. That insolent Honorary Member says his kind may not want to work with my nouns any more. Your problems, Viscount Verb, are trivial. I am too busy trying to win back the Honorary Member’s words.” His left eye twitched again—more than once this time—as his voice trailed off. “They determine our well-being.”
The Viscount Verb’s eyes bulged. His ears were deceiving him. “How can that be?” he asked incredulously. “You are nouns!”
