While Queen Eleanor slept the blissful, deserved slumber of a woman who had secured her destiny, an altogether different scene played out in the gloomy confines of Prince Vincent's fortress.
The deposed regent paced like a caged beast through the flickering torchlight of his operational command center. His face was contorted into a rictus of fury, lips peeled back from gritted teeth as he snarled a constant stream of curses and invective.
"Incompetent fools!" he roared, wheeling about to fix his withering glare upon the cowering group of advisors and technicians. "I gave you explicit commands! I poured all of my resources into that army of robotic demons to disrupt Eleanor’s precious coronation!"
One terrified-looking young man in grease-stained robes shrank back from Vincent's rage. "B-but my prince...our intelligence confirmed the suppression codes were infallible! There was n-no way Shane could have compromised our control matrices so thoroughly..."