Several minutes later.
Okay. I swear on every coffee bean I ever brewed… this was not how I planned my life today. I had barely caught my breath from the grand breakfast, the Council, the war room, the mana guns, and now THIS.
Because apparently, everyone in the capital decided that my retelling of Cast Away was gospel, and that I could somehow predict the future. And the future now included:
Sir Alex and Jin stranded on a mysterious island in the Icelandic sea.
My uncle, Duke Tyler Agro, nowhere to be found.
Princess Milabuella's dramatic internal screaming, of course.
I mean… What the hell? I was just trying to tell an emotional story about a man and his volleyball. I didn't sign up for prophecy!
But anyway…I ended up pacing the war room like a caffeinated lion, throwing my hands around, pointing at imaginary waves and islands.
