On Derse in his office the archagent stood,
The Black Queen's most trusted serf.
His carapaced face never knew a smile,
Everything got on his nerves.
Jack Noir had recently caught
A prisoner, a fatherly man.
But he had caused naught but trouble for him,
So the man was sent back where he came.
Archagent Jack loved to stab with his knives,
And children he hated a lot.
But nothing could one-up the hate, that he held,
'Gainst the Queen and her sovereign plots.
She watched, very careful, so he would obey
The dress code that she had made known.
Ev'ry shell in the kingdom was forced to be dressed
In the suit of a princess and clown.
Citations he filed were litt'ring his desk,
And in between all of those
Illegal contraband, that he received,
A parcel, a green coloured box.
To the archagent came the Parcel Mistress
From Prospit, the enemy state.
To retrieve the package her dutiful goal.
The mail could never be late.
The woman was nervous, the man made her scared.
"I'm occupied. Can you not see?
Now state your business, my patience is thin,
What brings a white shell to me?"
She asked with a stutter "That package, the green one,
I'd very much like to deliver."
"I'd much rather stab you, than fill out the papers,
Required for this to be given.
If you insist, I'll offer a deal though,
I'll happily trade what I own,
In exchange for two items, two symbols of royalty,
Bring me your monarchs' crowns."
He gave her a sword and sent her away.
'No way that she'll play along.
Though if she tries, she'll be dead in her grave
Before the next morning has come.'
Though he wondered, 'What reason has she,
To be so obsessed with this case?'
He sneaked a peek at the content inside,
His eyes grew widened, amazed.