I wake to the unmistakable sound of chaos. It isn't subtle. It isn't quiet. It is, in fact, loud enough to make me briefly consider whether I've been abducted by some particularly enthusiastic cult that worships noise itself. My eyes remain closed as I process the sheer volume of whatever is happening outside my chambers.
[Good morning, birthday tyrant.]
My eyelid twitches. No.
[Yes.]
I crack one eye open, greeted by the soft glow of morning light filtering through the heavy curtains. Everything seems… suspiciously normal in my room. Too normal. Which means everything outside of it is probably a disaster.
A sudden blast of trumpets confirms my suspicion.
I groan into my pillow. "What… is that?"
[The sound of your impending doom. Or your birthday celebration. Same difference.]
"It's too early for this."
[It's never too early for forced merriment.]
