Nivens McTwisp was strides ahead, passing hurried glances over his shoulder at you as he closed his pocket watch with a snap. "Ten minutes, ten minutes!" He fret, bouncing on the spot. You didn't understand the rush. At the end of the day, you'd get there more or less on time. After another few minutes of sprinting ahead, he seemed to give up, checking the time one last time before he ran back to you. "There's five minutes left. The Queen will have my head." The look in his eyes sharpened. "Pardon me." Before you knew it, you had been tossed over his shoulder and was being rushed at high speed to the palace.