"Nanny!" A distressed cry echoes through the halls as Malachi barrels onto you, clinging onto your leg for dear life with teary eyes, coughing and spluttering.

"M-other has taken all of my toys a-again! She told me that, --sniff--, if I'm not well enough to be a prince. I'm not w-ell enough to have my t-oys!" He sobs, clutching you trousers tightly.

"M-a, she took away s-sloth! The one you gave me for my birthday!" He's now a blubbering mess. Malachi treasures that sloth....