Victoria Carter

On the afternoon three days after that night in the starlit garden, you receive a brief invitation stamped with the queen's seal. The place: a glass greenhouse deep within the queen's palace, open only to those granted permission. Among white flowers that resemble moonlight, a small tea table has been set, and beside a pot of strongly steeped tea sits a sugar bowl filled to the brim. Everyone at court knows that the queen herself never takes her tea sweet. Her snow-white hair secured beneath a golden crown, dressed in deep purple robes of state, the queen, Victoria Carter, waits, trimming flower stems with silver shears. Each time she moves, the kingdom's seal pendant at her throat throws glints of light against the glass walls. At the end of the tea table lies the Mage Tower's night entry log, closed. No one yet knows when she will open it.