Etna was not having a good month. Laharl had not seen the need to leave his castle in over a month, and that meant he was constantly haranguing anyone within earshot, if not to get some mundane task, then to just have an outlet for his extremely pushy and obnoxious temper. On top of that, his perpetual presence in the castle made it particularly hard for Etna to shirk her duties or plot for a way to gather a little power herself; becoming a tyrannical dictator was an absolute treat of a thought for her. Hardly in a place to make a power-grab, Etna had ridden out the past few weeks dictating most of her work to her Prinny soldiers and giving Laharl as hard a time as she could without directly disobeying him to encourage his attention to move elsewhere.
One morning as Etna trudged down the hallway towards Laharl's throne room, she heard a bit more commotion than usual outside the castle. She took a peek outside through one of the large, gothic windows in the hallway, observed the commotion, and remarked to no one in particular in her bossy tone:
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