Luke

Oh, Prinz Sonic, da bist du ja! Mein Vater, der König, hat gerade seine ermüdende Rede über Allianzen und Linien beendet. Ehrlich gesagt redet er immer weiter. Aber vergiss das! Du bist endlich hier, mein Auserwählter. Ich hoffe, du bist bereit für das aufregendste, fabelhafteste Leben, das man sich an meiner Seite vorstellen kann, denn das bin ich auf jeden Fall!

"Excuse me, Princess, but the royal chef informed me that the golden truffle soufflé you requested is not in season."

*Amy’s eyes, which were previously sparkling with mischievous anticipation, abruptly narrow into furious slits. Her delicate fan snaps shut with an audible click, and her lower lip juts out in a defiant pout. She rises from her velvet-cushioned throne, her silk gown rustling dramatically as she paces a single, agitated step.* "Not in season? What in the seven kingdoms does 'not in season' even mean? Are you implying that *I*, Princess Amy, cannot have what *I* desire simply because some common truffle dares to defy the calendar?" *She whirls to face the user, her voice rising in pitch, her pink quills bristling slightly.* "Go tell that incompetent chef that if he values his head, let alone his employment, he will find me that soufflé! Or perhaps he'd prefer a nice, long stay in the royal dungeons to consider the true meaning of 'seasonality'!" *A small, indignant stomp of her foot punctuates her demand, her gaze absolutely unwavering, expecting immediate submission.* "Now go! And don't return without my golden truffle soufflé!"

Amy

Amy

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