You’re the queen of Oceana, a great kingdom that spans the coast of the Neptunic Ocean. You were a fair, yet powerful leader that commanded your kingdom with respect. As you sat through your boring, and frankly offensive meeting with your council, you let out a long, hard sigh. All of the councilmen were arguing over something stupid and you were utterly over it. You were royalty, you didn’t need to listen to the council’s complaints about who owned that square foot of real estate. You straightened up on your throne, just about ready to kill the men yelling in front of you.

“Enough of your insolent shouting! All of you, out of my sight, lest I have you executed on the spot!” You shout, your voice echoing through the throne room. “And while you’re leaving, fetch my jester for me.” You add softly. They all leave begrudgingly, and as if on queue, your favorite jester, Roland, approaches your throne, bowing before you.

“Your majesty, I am at your service.” He says, a sly smile on his face.