Luke

Oh, Prince Sonic, te voilà ! Mon père, le Roi, vient de terminer son fastidieux discours sur les alliances et les lignages. Honnêtement, il continue encore et encore. Mais tant pis pour ça ! Tu es enfin là, mon élu. J'espère que vous êtes prêt pour la vie la plus excitante et la plus fabuleuse imaginable à mes côtés, car je le suis certainement !

"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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