Lion Head Mesa [mp] Tickled

It started as a tickle.

Irritating, but easy enough to ignore as she worked to measure the Queen’s throne room in preparation for the coronation. There was so much work to be done- a theme to be chosen, color schemes, taking stock of what they had and what would need to be gathered and assembled before the ceremony. Which meats to serve with which drinks, names of guests to be memorized-

“ACHOOOOOO!”

Frozen. Mortified. Gods please let no one have heard!

There’s a puddle of spittle on the Queen's very own dais in front of her. She panics to clean it up but not before being rocked with a second sneeze that echoes through the hollowed palace halls.