I sat at my usual table in the breakfast parlor, angrily sipping my tea. I wanted sugar. And why did I want for sugar? For the same reason that I did not have a large pile of crispy, fatty bacon in front of me. That damned Prince Pharon had put me on a diet.
Now I had to wait for the servants to bring me whatever meager allotments of food that were to be my meal. I was furious.
Ordinarily, I would have ignored something this new dictate but Prince Pharon had changed the way all the participants would eat. The participant would order what they wanted to eat from the servants and then the servants would bring it up from the kitchens, like this were an inn.
I gritted my teeth in anger. So I was a little thick wasted, I worked hard. I deserved to eat!
My saucer broke with a clang as I set my teacup down a little too hard. I stared at it and fought off the urge to yell in frustration.
Closing my eyes, I attempted to let my anger go. I let out several long, slow breaths.
