The morning of the second tournament event, the "Labyrinth of Lethality," arrived with a heavy, anxious silence. The usual, gentle calm of my dungeon had been replaced by a tense awkwardness. Even the Dust Bunnies seemed to be hiding.
FaeLina hadn't said a single word, which was somehow even more terrifying than her usual panicked screaming.
Gilda stood by the entrance, methodically sharpening an axe that was already impossibly sharp. The entire dungeon felt like it was holding its breath.
My entry for a competition of deadly traps was, in fact, a series of rooms designed to be mildly inconvenient. I wasn't just expecting to lose; I was fully prepared to be laughed out of the kingdom.
But if I was going to fail, I was going to fail my way: the cozy, passive-aggressive, and deeply, deeply annoying way.
And then, the wait was over. The golden portal swirled open in my lobby, the roar of the stadium crowd flooding in.
