In a mere few minutes, a waiter enters the lounge to summon the guests for their final course: a ridiculous two-tiered chocolate fudge cake, oozing with a fudge filling. The diners clap their hands with glee as they embark on their second feast. Impa politely declines: the overwhelming overindulgence is almost sickening.

Once the guests have filled their bellies, the plates are swept away. In a circle of silence, they allow the food to settle before His Majesty speaks:

"Thank you all dearly once again for attending this evening!" he beams. "I for one have enjoyed a fabulous time!"

"But Your Majesty: who is to say that the evening ought to subside?" Caedis chimes merrily. "The night is still young!"

"Well, what sort of activity do you suggest we revel in, Caedis?" the Commander grunts.

"I propose a night of board games!" the young Count grins excitedly.

"That sounds just delightful, Caedis." Tilda swells in her seat. "However, I must retire to my quarters. That heavenly dessert finished me off!"

"On the contrary, Your Highness!" Caedis exclaims. "I must insist you join us!"

Her fiancé rests his hand upon hers. "If you wish to rest, I will arrange for a coach to collect the guests at once."

"You will do no such thing, my darling!" Tilda rebuffs and leans into the Count with a smirk. "If it's a game you want, your Countship, then a game you shall have!"

Caedis grins ecstatically and turns to the King. "I like her…don't let her slip away!"

"Then we shall reconvene in the lounge." Daltus claps to rouse his audience. "Let the games begin!"

His Majesty and his guests relocate to the lounge area, where they spend the remainder of the evening amusing themselves with various charades. Impa accompanies Her Highness to the ladies' room, where they reapply their make-up and relieve themselves in time for the charades.

"By Her Grace's blessing, we escaped just in time!" the Princess remarks in the mirror. "I cannot abide their company for such a prolonged period. Don't you agree that their conversations grow tiresome?"

Impa hesitates before replying with a smile. "A little."

The two ladies share a moment of mirth as they mock the mannerisms of the pretentious patrons. As they ready themselves to return to the lounge, their exit is obstructed by a large lady in distress.

"Marjory?" Impa inquires at the sight of the spooked kitchen servant. "Is everything alright?"

"Oh, Your Highness, I didn't mean to intrude!" the Head Cook sobs apologetically. "I heard voices and came in search of help!"

"Help?" the Princess asks. "Help with what?"

"The Chamberlain, Your Highness…" Marjory swallows. "He's dead."