The aroma of sizzling meat filled the air, while Levi was spooning mush into his mouth across the dining table. Rosa remained sequestered in the guest room, likely still battling ancient texts. I savored each juicy bite of my steak, a delicious anticipation bubbling beneath the surface. Tonight was the night. Tonight, Levi and I would once again chart a course across the familiar yet ever-surprising sea of pain, pleasure, and madness.

Then, a sharp rap echoed through the cluttered house. The mundane world had come knocking.

"Rock, paper, scissors for the esteemed honor of facing whoever dares interrupt our pre-voyage repast, Levi?"

He offered a nonchalant shrug. We counted down in unison, a brief moment of childish anticipation in the midst of our otherwise… complex lives. "One, two, three… bam!" My fist shot out in a rock… only to be met by Levi's victorious paper. Damn his predictable yet consistently effective tactics.

A frustrated groan escaped my lips as I pushed myself away from the half-eaten steak and headed towards the insistent knocking. Standing on our doorstep was a man who looked to be around fourty, clutching a worn leather satchel. Unimpressive was an understatement. The early stages of male pattern baldness were evident, framing a face etched with what looked like stress-induced wrinkles. He had the vaguely harried air of a mid-level bank employee perpetually behind on paperwork.

"Hello?" I offered, my curiosity piqued despite his unremarkable appearance.

"Good evening." He shifted his weight, glancing nervously around the cluttered hallway. "May I… have a conversation with… Levi Blake?" He punctuated the request by clenching his jaw, a flicker of something beyond simple politeness in his eyes.

An imperious voice sliced through the house. "Raphael! Bring that little vermin inside!"

My eyebrows shot up. This man hardly seemed like the type to warrant such vitriol.

I gave him a hesitant gesture towards the kitchen, a silent invitation into the brewing storm. As he shuffled past me, I could practically feel the tightly coiled fury radiating off him. Levi, seated at the table amidst the remnants of his grey mush, presented a starkly different picture. He wasn't shouting, wasn't visibly enraged. Instead, his face was an impassive mask, devoid of any discernible emotion. Yet, his eyes… his eyes were a turbulent sea, a swirling vortex of offense, as if the man had personally insulted the very fabric of his being.

"Showing up at my private residence uninvited, unannounced? Where are your manners? I thought this fledgling democracy possessed a Minister of Economy with at least some rudimentary understanding of decorum and, dare I say, respect for personal boundaries."

Minister of Economy? This rumpled, stressed-out man with the receding hairline was the Minister of Economy?

"Respect for boundaries?" the Minister retorted, his voice rising. "Respect? What about you, Blake? You think you can just change the fundamental financial structure of an entire nation with a flick of your aristocratic wrist? With a casual snap of your entitled fingers? Who do you think you are?" His hands clenched into fists, the leather of his bag creaking under the pressure.

Well, this was certainly a first. I'd witnessed plenty of fear, bewilderment, and even outright terror directed at Levi, but this anger? This was a new and rather intriguing development. A slow smile spread across Levi's face, a predator scenting blood in the water. With a snap of his fingers, he gestured imperiously to the chair opposite him. The man, still visibly trembling with indignation, grudgingly sank into the offered seat. I, popcorn at the ready in my metaphorical hands, sat next to the Levi, eager to witness the unfolding drama.

Levi leaned forward slightly, eyes fixed on the Minister. "You tiny little vermin. In a mere sixty rotations of this planet, during my brief absence, you managed to steer my country to the very precipice of economic ruin. And now," he continued, his eyes narrowing, "you have the audacity to question my methods? To demand justification for taking what you yourself have necessitated – desperate measures to salvage your spectacular incompetence?"

"Oh, I'm the vermin, am I?" the Minister spat. "The one tirelessly trying to bail water from a sinking ship while the esteemed leader was off… indulging in his… eccentricities. And now, you return with this grand solution? To 'salvage' our precarious situation by detonating a financial bomb under the entire nation? Brilliant. Truly, breathtakingly brilliant."

Uh… well, the truth was a tad more… complicated. Levi's "brief absence" was, in reality, a forced stay at that rather exclusive rehab, courtesy of yours truly. And the initial binding and gagging before his swift departure? Strictly for his own good, of course. So, technically, the Minister's assessment of who was truly at fault was… skewed. But there was zero chance I was volunteering that particular nugget of information.

"Leader? Please," Levi scoffed, a dismissive wave of his hand. "Spare me the platitudes. I am no leader, no savior, certainly no hero in this tawdry little drama. I am simply a man with the unfortunate burden of ensuring we don't all collectively shrivel up and die due to your… stewardship." He leaned forward, his gaze piercing. "Now, let's dispense with the theatrics, shall we? The real reason you're so vehemently opposed to my… elegant solution isn't the concept itself, is it, you indolent little pest? No. It's the monumental effort it will require of you. You will be the one tasked with the back-breaking labor of recalling the old, worthless currency, overseeing the printing of the new, and then, heaven forbid, actually distributing it to the populace." Levi's lip curled in disdain.

Ouch. Straight for the jugular. But again… he's not entirely wrong. The Minister does have the air of someone who prefers delegating to, you know, actually doing.

"And who exactly appointed you the sole arbiter of our nation's fate?" the Minister countered. "You disappear for weeks, leaving us to drown, and suddenly you're back, issuing decrees like some petulant god from your… house? This isn't a monarchy, Blake. You can't just command things into existence with a wave of your hand!"

Oops. Big, big oops. Monarchy? Those were fighting words, especially directed at Levi. I could practically see the air around him crackle with an impending storm.

"Monarchy?" Levi repeated. "Of course, it is not a monarchy, you blithering idiot. Cast your pathetic gaze upon the flood of cardboard that currently infests my domicile, you lazy cockroach. Those aren't dusty relics of a bygone era for show; they are centuries-old laws, waiting to be digitized, to be dragged kicking and screaming into the modern age before being consigned to the oblivion they so richly deserve. Do I need to remind your feeble mind how the entirety of the government staff practically worked themselves into early graves, desperately clinging to the hope of my return? I explicitly stated, multiple times, that I would not be coming back. And what transpired then? Your staff, the very people you so ineptly oversee, descended upon my home, practically weeping and begging for my intervention. And now," his voice rose, the fury finally breaking through, "you have the unmitigated gall to question my actions? To demand an explanation for why I must clean up the monumental mess you and your ilk have created? Hm… Well then. Perhaps you are right. Perhaps I am not suited for this thankless task. In that case," he concluded, "I resign."

Oh, shit just got real. He actually said it. Resigned. Just like that. The Minister looks like he's swallowed a lemon whole. All that bluster from a moment ago has completely evaporated. The chaos that Levi's resignation would unleash… it's almost beautiful in its terrifying scope. And all because the Minister dared to utter the M-word.

"You can't be serious!" the Minister sputtered. "You're just going to walk away? After the mess you indirectly created? That's it? You throw a childish tantrum and abandon your responsibilities yet again? Some savior you turned out to be!"

Levi tilted his head. "What was your name?"

The Minister blinked, utterly bewildered. "Y-you… you don't know my name?"

"Well…" Levi drawled, waving a dismissive hand as if swatting away a bothersome insect. "Your name, frankly, never warranted the allocation of precious neural pathways in my considerably more complex brain. You see, you insignificant speck, even your unremarkable face failed to register in my consciousness until your desperate pounding echoed through my sanctuary. Then you had the audacity to enter my home, practically groveling once again for me to rescue your pathetic existence from the abyss of your own making. And after all that, you still dare to utter those… presumptuous words? Savior, hero, leader? No, no, my dear, deluded Minister. I am not some benevolent figurehead. I am the looming shadow that will haunt your every waking moment, the architect of your impending sleepless nights."

He leaned back, a cruel glint in his eyes. "Hm… What, indeed, would transpire if I were to simply… resign? Ah, yes. A delicious irony. You see, unlike you, I hold no official position, no cumbersome title within your failing government. To the public, I am merely a private citizen, my invaluable consultant services a well-kept secret. But you, Minister… they know you, don't they? They remember the riots just a week ago, the unrest your ineptitude fueled. And who intervened, who stopped the heavy-handed tactics of your equally incompetent police force while you were likely cowering in some dimly lit office, shriveling and sniveling like the vermin you so accurately resemble?"

Oof. He just systematically dismantled the poor man's entire existence and career in under a minute. The "precious neural pathways" line was particularly savage. And the reminder about the riots… Levi's right. The public doesn't know he's the one pulling the strings, but they sure as hell know who the Minister is – and they're not happy with him.

"Think about the country, Blake! Think about the people who will suffer!" the Minister pleaded, his voice thick with desperation. "You talk about my 'shriveling' and 'sniveling,' but what about the families who will lose their savings? The businesses that will go bankrupt? Is your personal vendetta against me, your wounded pride, truly worth that catastrophic cost? You may not see yourself as a leader, but the truth is, you are. They listen to you, even if they don't know your name. To abandon them now… it's not just irresponsible, it's cruel. Can you honestly live with that?"

Aw, Minister. You actually believe Levi operates on such quaint notions as morality, or a sense of civic duty? How utterly adorable. He doesn’t care. It's about the enjoyment he derives from wielding this kind of power, from watching the world dance to his discordant tune. I could feel a hysterical laugh bubbling up inside me.

Levi's initial reaction to the Minister's desperate plea was a narrowing of his eyes. For a fleeting moment, I believed he was about to physically lash out. But then, the shift. A crinkle appeared at the corner of his right eye. His gaze, detached itself from the Minister's distraught face and fixed intently on the worn leather bag clutched tightly in his trembling hands.

A knowing smile spread across Levi's lips, devoid of any warmth. "Oh…" he murmured, a chilling blend of pity and utter contempt. "You pathetic excuse of a man…"

The Minister visibly flinched at Levi's contemptuous words, holding on the leather bag, as if it held his very life force. Levi extended his pointer finger in a sharp beckon towards the worn satchel. "Give it to me," he commanded, the earlier playful menace gone. "Now."

What in the world had just happened?

"I… I can't…" the Minister stammered, his voice barely a choked whisper. His eyes darted nervously between Levi and the leather bag clutched to his chest, a silent battle raging within him.

Hm? Why the sudden resistance? Just hand it over. What could possibly be so important in that drab-looking satchel?

Levi's patience, never a boundless resource, was clearly nearing its end. His gaze hardened, the earlier flicker of observation replaced by a steely resolve. "This is your last warning," he reiterated. "Give it to me. Now."

The Minister flinched again, a small, whimpering sound escaping his lips. "I am sorry… I truly can't…" he pleaded, his lips trembling, his grip on the leather bag now bordering on frantic.

Levi seemed to find a perverse amusement in the Minister's distress. A faint smile played on his lips as he slowly rose from his chair, his movements deliberate. He closed the distance between them, his gaze locking onto the Minister's with an unnerving intensity. "Yes," Levi said, his voice deceptively calm. "Yes, you can. There is only one singular talent you possess, one solitary skill at which you consistently excel. And that is obeying. Open the bag."

Obeying? Savage. But… not entirely inaccurate. The Minister does seem more accustomed to taking orders than giving them. What the hell is in that bag that's making the Minister so resistant?

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"L-Levi…" the Minister choked out, tears welling in his eyes. "I am sorry… Please… I can't… they'll…"

Levi's eyes narrowed. "Hm… So. You are more terrified of them

than you are of me. Excellent." A cruel smile stretched across his lips. "You should have heeded my words. I am not a hero. I am not a saint. I am the insidious smoke that will slowly fill your lungs, choking the very life out of you, not in one swift act, no… From this moment onward, your existence will be a struggle for breath, a constant gasp that never quite fills your lungs. Open the bag, Minister."

The smoke metaphor… chillingly apt. I should probably intervene, say something, but… a morbid curiosity has me completely frozen. What the hell is in that damn bag?

I caught Levi's glance – a silent command. Distraction. Understood. I moved with slowness, gently placing my hand on the rigid forearm of the Minister. "Sir…" I said, my voice soft and laced with concern. "Are you alright? You seem… distressed. If you are in need of help, if someone is threatening you, you can tell us. We can help."

The Minister's tear-streaked face swiveled towards me, a flicker of desperate hope in his red-rimmed eyes. Before he could utter a word, Levi moved with lightning speed. He snatched the leather bag with force, and with a sharp tug, he ripped it open. From within its worn confines, he extracted a wired transmitter, its tiny red light blinking.

Levi held the device aloft, his gaze now fixed on the Minister, a look of utter disdain contorting his face. "Disgusting," he spat. "So, Minister. While you were feigning remorse and pleading for mercy, you were also meticulously planning to record my… private conversation? How utterly predictable. How utterly pathetic."

"The fuck?" I exclaimed. "He was actually recording us?"

Levi held up the transmitter, turning it over. "Hm… Yes. While my intellectual pursuits rarely intersect with such pedestrian contraptions, this rudimentary device bears all the hallmarks of a common recording instrument. What a profoundly pathetic specimen you are, Minister. If you were going to engage in such treacherous idiocy, you should have at least procured an active transmitter, one that actually broadcasts. My, my. It seems your shadowy 'allies' were actively encouraging you to embrace this truly suicidal course of action."

The Minister scrambled to his feet. "Levi… I am so desperately sorry, please… Please, you have to forgive me…" His voice was a broken plea, his hands outstretched in a futile gesture of supplication.

Levi didn't even deign to acknowledge the pathetic display. The physical disparity between them was stark – Levi towering over the slighter man, his broader frame radiating an aura of effortless dominance. Instead, Levi looked at me, his eyes twinkling.

"Do you see, my dearest Raphael? Even in the act of betrayal, the man is utterly incompetent." He let out a short scoff.

That's going straight into the Levi Blake book of memorable insults.

"Minister," Levi began, staring at the incriminating transmitter, as if it held more interest than the trembling man before him. "I believe I'm beginning to grasp the rudimentary workings of your… desperate little scheme. Let me hazard a guess. The coterie of affluent parasites whose ill-gotten gains I so rudely disrupted have, predictably, formed some pathetic alliance. And you, with your remarkably diminutive and vacant cerebral cortex, likely reasoned, 'Ah, yes! I will expose Levi! I will reveal his true villainy to the masses!' You envisioned yourself as some sort of righteous whistleblower, didn't you? Tell me, dear Minister, am I not painting a rather accurate picture of your profoundly flawed thought process?" He didn't truly expect an answer, his attention already drifting back to the recording device, the Minister barely registering as a particularly unpleasant stain on the otherwise tolerable backdrop of his evening.

The sheer idiocy of it is almost… endearing.

"Oh my god, Levi," I interjected, a genuine cackle escaping my lips. "Your insults are reaching new levels of artistic brilliance. 'Remarkably diminutive and vacant cerebral cortex'? You outdo yourself."

Levi turned to me, a genuine warmth softening his sharp features. "Only you truly appreciate the exquisite artistry of my tyranny." He then turned back to the Minister, his amusement taking on a sharper edge. "Now, now, Minister. Be a good little vermin. Sit down. Let's have a civilized conversation, hm? Or perhaps I might be inclined to further elaborate on the manifold deficiencies of your intellect, purely for my husband's amusement."

He knows how to make me feel special, even amidst this bizarre and terrifying interrogation.

The Minister, his face pale and etched with fear, slowly sank back into his chair. "Levi…" he stammered. "Are you going to… are you going to hand me over to the police?"

Levi settled back into his own seat with a languid shrug. "No," he replied, a hint of boredom creeping into his tone. "You see, I was growing rather weary of repeatedly cataloging the profound ineptitude of your staff. However there is a certain… novelty in dissecting your particular brand of incompetence. So, speak then, Minister. Unburden yourself. Perhaps, if the mood strikes me, if a rare flicker of mercy illuminates my otherwise shadowed soul, I might just consider delivering you into the rather less imaginative custody of the police."

That particularly tedious little mouse squeaked, "You… you can't do this! You can't just… toy with people's lives like this! I am a minister! I have a responsibility! What you're doing… it's not right!" His voice, though laced with a final attempt at indignation, trembled precariously.

Levi tapped his fingers, his gaze fixed on the Minister with a dismissive boredom. "Gods," he sighed. "You have devolved into utter tedium with remarkable speed. Toy with lives? My dear Minister, I assure you, the lives you so ineptly managed were already teetering on the precipice of disaster. No, no. I am merely… engaging in a bit of targeted amusement with you. Now, now. Be a good little vermin for me, won't you? Provide me with names. The architects of this delightful little betrayal. Otherwise," Levi's eyes glinted with amusement, "I might be inclined to finally put some of your more… novel qualities to use. Your surprising, albeit clumsy, ability to manipulate a keyboard, for instance. I'm certain my assistant Rosa could find a fitting role for you… perhaps you may be her assistant. The filing system is complex, and your meticulous attention to detail – or lack thereof – might prove… enlightening."

"I'll resign, Levi! I swear it! I will vanish. You'll never see me again!" the Minister blurted out, his voice cracking with a desperate finality.

Levi tapped his fingers once more. "Hm… Defiance. My favorite poison." He then bellowed. "Rosa!"

Gods… Here we go. Rosa is about to get another unsolicited peek into the more… assertive aspects of our domestic bliss.

Rosa emerged from the direction of the guest room, her brow furrowed with a mixture of concern and curiosity as she took in the tense tableau. "S-sir?" she asked, question directed at the visibly distressed man in the chair.

"Ah, my dearest Rosa," Levi said, his voice smooth as velvet. "Please forgive this rather uncouth Minister for so rudely encroaching upon your valuable work hours." He gestured towards the sweating man with a dismissive wave of his hand.

Damn it all… Levi was practically vibrating with glee. And judging by the sudden widening of Rosa's eyes, she definitely recognized the Minister.

"Sir," Rosa began, slightly ruffled, her gaze shifting between Levi and the increasingly agitated Minister. "I… I don't understand. Why is Minister Shaw here? Is everything alright?"

And yes, finally, the poor, pathetic man had a name: Mr. Shaw.

"Nothing too elaborate," Levi said, his eyes gleaming with mischief. "I was merely contemplating a… reorganization of personnel. You see this rather distraught gentleman, Minister Shaw, possesses a unique, but limited, skillset. While his general competence leaves much to be desired, he does possess the rudimentary ability to vocalize written text. I was considering assigning him to you… as your assistant. A small way to lighten your workload, wouldn't you agree?"

Oh, he's not actually going to make the Minister Rosa's assistant, is he? That's… petty.

"You… you think this is amusing?" Minister Shaw choked out, a final, pathetic spark of defiance flickering in his tear-filled eyes. "You think you can just… humiliate me like this? I won't do it! I refuse!"

"Still clinging to that fragile shred of defiance? Delicious. Since your vocal cords seem incapable of uttering anything of value, it stands to reason that the names I seek, your last desperate lifeline, are likely inscribed somewhere. Perhaps within that rather revealing satchel? Raphael, my dear, Rosa, my invaluable assistant, would you be so kind as to retrieve Mr. Shaw's bag? And, if you would, locate the thinnest file within. Even better if it's rendered in some utterly illegible scrawl. I rather suspect," Levi's gaze flickered back to Shaw, a cruel amusement dancing in his eyes, "that during your clandestine little endeavor, your pathetic heart was drumming a frantic tattoo against your brittle rib cage, rendering any attempt at coherent documentation utterly impossible."

There's a disturbingly captivating quality to witnessing Levi dissect a man's very being with nothing more than precisely chosen, exquisitely cruel words. Under different circumstances, I'd likely find his behavior reprehensible. But this isn't just some random unfortunate soul; this is a government minister who attempted to bug our home. So, instead of simple cruelty, it feels more like observing a malevolent shadow reveling in the pathetic, ultimately futile defiance of its intended victim. And damn it all… I have to admit, there's a certain… vicarious thrill in it. A dark satisfaction. Damn you, Levi. You've finally dragged me down your delightfully wicked path. I think… I actually kind of enjoy this.

Rosa took the worn leather satchel and wordlessly handed it to Levi. With a theatrical flourish, Levi upended the bag, sending a cascade of files tumbling onto the table.

"Hm," he murmured, sifting through the scattered documents with a dismissive air. "Spreadsheets. Predictably boring. Another spreadsheet, this one organized by a pathetic little insect brain. Equally tedious. Ah, and yet another spreadsheet, filled with particularly uninspired and demonstrably inadequate datasets…" He paused, his fingers finally closing around a crumpled piece of paper. He held it up, his lips curling into a contemptuous sneer. "You utter fool."

"It's… it's just names. People who… who agreed with me," the Minister stammered, his voice weak and unconvincing. "They were worried too. It wasn't a conspiracy… just… concerned citizens."

Levi, paid him no mind, his attention fixed on the crumpled piece of paper in his hand. "Disgusting penmanship, Minister," he remarked. "One can barely decipher this pathetic scrawl. Hm… let's see which 'particularly concerned citizens' felt the need to conspire against me. Ah, yes... owner of the second-largest pharmaceutical company. My… 'rival,' as he so delusionally believes. Though, frankly, I find the concept of him being a threat to me rather… laughable. Hm… and who is this other 'concerned citizen'? Lady Finch, the power behind the biggest cosmetics empire. How utterly predictable. Each and every one of you is breathtakingly boring." He sighed.

Ah, my dramatic lion… always finding the most wonderfully peculiar things to be incensed by.

"What do you want? Information? I can give you information about them. About their businesses… their finances…" the Minister offered, his voice laced with a desperate plea. "Just… just don't destroy them. They have families…"

Levi recoiled as if struck by a physical blow, mouth agape. I had to bite back a laugh. "Raphael," he said, his voice dripping with weary disdain, "please, silence this pathetic vermin. I find myself utterly disinclined to waste another precious breath on his mewling."

Alright, alright, playtime's over for the poor guy. Though, Levi's theatrics are endlessly entertaining.

"Minister," I began, leaning forward slightly, a genuine curiosity overriding my earlier amusement. "Please, indulge my bewilderment for a moment. You risked… everything. Your entire career, your reputation, your freedom… over these?" I gestured to the crumpled paper. "These two individuals? Not even some shadowy, powerful secret lobby pulling the strings? Just… two rather predictable, albeit wealthy, people? Forgive me, but I am struggling to comprehend the logic here. What was the grand strategy? What did you possibly hope to gain from such an… underwhelming alliance?"

"I…" the Minister stammered, pausing, his gaze flickering nervously between Levi and me. He took a shuddering breath. "It… it was just a cover. Levi was right. I was… being scared. It's just… it's not every day a country fundamentally restructures its entire financial system, changes its currency… So, yes, those people… they reached out to me. They offered me a substantial bribe to obstruct the transition. But…" he swallowed hard, his eyes meeting mine, "I didn't take it." He looked down at his hands, twisting them in his lap. "Instead… instead, I thought… I thought if I could just… subtly undermine Levi's public image… show the citizens a glimpse of his… actual persona… not the 'Saint'… then maybe… maybe the transition wouldn't be so smooth. Maybe people would resist."

Well, that's… unexpected. He didn't take the bribe? Color me surprised. So, it wasn't just about lining his own pockets. It was about fear. Fear of Levi, fear of the change, fear of losing control.

"So, in essence," Levi drawled, "it boils down to your own… profound lack of initiative. You were too cowardly to directly accept a bribe, and too unimaginative to devise a truly effective scheme. It's just… laziness, then. A pathetic attempt born of fear and executed with staggering incompetence." He sighed dramatically, running a hand through his hair. "What an utterly boring evening this has become. Our conversation has devolved into a tedious flat circle of your ineptitude. I had hoped for at least a modicum of intellectual stimulation."

Lazy? Ouch. That's probably worse than calling him incompetent. Levi's utterly deflated. He was clearly hoping for some grand conspiracy, some worthy adversary. Instead, he got a bumbling bureaucrat.

The Minister stared at his trembling hands. "I didn't take the bribe… not because I was a coward," he insisted, a flicker of wounded pride in his eyes. "I… I wanted to do something. It's going to be chaos, Levi… utter chaos when you change the currency… It was foolish, yes, incredibly foolish in hindsight…"

Levi shrugged. "You should have taken it, Minister. At least then I might have entertained the illusion that you possessed some minuscule capacity for strategic thinking. And yes, obviously it is going to be chaos. Blindingly, screamingly obvious. But engage that pathetic excuse for a brain of yours for a fleeting moment, conjure up some dusty images from your presumably uneventful college days, you utter idiot. Why in the seven hells do you think we have to do this? I have already deciphered the grand design, and now the tedious process of instilling it is underway. Nothing but mind-numbing drudgery for me. The puzzle is solved. All you, in your limited capacity, have to do is… your job, vermin. Nothing else."

"I… I don't know," the Minister confessed. "I don't understand your grand design, Levi. I just see the potential for utter disaster. And in my own clumsy, misguided way… I was trying to prevent that."

Levi, by this point, radiated a palpable aura of ennui. With a dismissive wave of his hand, he addressed Rosa, who had been observing the unfolding drama with a thinly veiled amusement. "That will be all, Rosa. Thank you for your… contributions." Rosa, with a knowing glance at me and a slight smirk directed at the deflated Minister, quietly withdrew.

Then, my dramatic, magnificent lion turned his pleading gaze upon me, his intense eyes conveying an urgent message: boredom… and the desperate need for sugar. A chuckle escaped my lips. I rose from my chair, a smile playing on my lips, and began preparing his customary hot chocolate, while brewing a pot of strong tea for the Minister and myself. A little caffeine and sugar seemed to be in order for all of us, in varying degrees of potency.