Speak. 

Beneath the majestic chandelier in a luxurious throne room of gold, sat Queen Lieka--all but fifteen years old. Two diligent maids tended to her with fans, artisanal pastries, and salted meat. 

Your majesty, we’ve cleared level three. Donavan said.

And? Her gaze drifted slightly. 

We haven’t found it yet.

CRASH.

A vase spun through the air, just inches from Donavon’s skull.

But I’ve hired an adventuring party to clear level four. He said. I’m certain we will find what you’re looking for soon.

If you fail me again… 

Never, my quee–

Let me finish, you impertinent oaf! The queen said. If you fail me again… I’ll kill you.

Isn’t that right, my love? She turned to her incredibly unattractive pet pigeon, Sebastian, whom she loved more than anything in the world.

You’re dismissed, ogre.

Your majesty, if I may? Donavon said. There have been reports, rumors, that Princess Tiana has been spotted in your dungeon.

Is that so? A twisted smile stretched across her face.

Sir Donavon. A guard entered the throne room. She’s ready to talk. 

He followed the guard to a dark prison cell deep within the castle. A woman hung from the ceiling, her body beaten and bruised. He pulled out a chair and sat down. 

Tell me, where is it? He said.

After a minute or so of silence, the woman stuttered, barely able to speak. 

Sc…re…w. Y…ou. She said.