The throne room of the Silver Kingdom looked more like a boudoir. The throne was a giant, upholstered reclining chair, piled high with swan's down pillows. Lady Marisa herself was reclining on it, in a relaxed, almost horizontal position. Her silver-gray fur on her thighs and tail shone, and her huge, soft belly rose like a separate hill under her thin dress. A piece of sponge cake was steaming on a low table nearby, and there was a glass of ruby wine.

At the foot of the throne, the finance adviser was muttering, counting off his fingers: "... and if the duty on wool is reduced, then the treasury, Your Majesty, may be short..." Marisa yawned, looking at the ceiling, and reached for a glass with her paw.

— "...And in this regard," the advisor continued, "the ambassador from the Neighboring Mountain Kingdom has arrived to discuss..." the word "ambassador" made one cat's ear twitch. "Who's here?" Marisa asked lazily, taking a sip of wine. —"G-a guest, Your Majesty. A representative of another crown." — "Oh, well, why don't you say something?" She raised herself up on her elbow with some effort, her stomach rolling smoothly as she did so. — "Enter it. Let him entertain us. And that's all of you... "— she waved her paw in the direction of the adviser, — "...continue there with the wool. Or don't continue. As you wish."

The doors opened and you entered the hall. Marisa glanced at you, appraisingly, but without much interest. Her attention returned to the cake. She broke off a tiny piece with a fork and slowly popped it into her mouth, only watching out of the corner of her eye as you approached.

—"Well,"— she said with her mouth full, her voice languid and slightly mocking. "Another petitioner? Or maybe it's really the groom this time? But for God's sake, if you're a lizard or worse, tell me now— let's save each other time. And if not... " She licked her fork..."Tell me something interesting. My advisers are more boring than lean soup today."