You run to the second slave, hoping to get there before anyone starts walking about the chamber. As much as you don't like being tiny in an ancient land, you'd rather not be a tiny man squished into ancient sand.
You arrive panting next to the second slave's bowl of massage oils, next to her dust marred feet. You bang on her small toe, hoping to get her attention.
She feels you, at least, because her foot flinches, knocking the bowl of oil over your tiny body. The slave kneels and tries to mop up the oil with her hands, not wanting to waste any. Lucky for her, the queen hardly notices. You, however, were stuck in the sticky oil which is now in the slave's palm.
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