Go see the prime minister

Queen Belinda strolled through the castle's north hall towards the audience chamber. She liked taking this route because of the beautiful tapestries lining the walls. They had been made by the master craftsmen of old, and chronicled the history of the royal family and its wonderful rule over the land.

The tale was as long as the tapestries were opulent. Belinda's husband had told her the story once, but she didn't remember much about. Something about a witch, and a curse, and other nonsense about how wonderful hubby's ancestors were, it was all quite droll, but they were very pretty to look at.

At least, they normally were. Two rather dirty people dressed in leather outfits (peasants she presumed) were in the process of taking down one of the tapestries. Another two had already been rolled up and were lying on the ground.

"These are worth a fortune," said one, a rather stout man with brown hair.

"Careful! They're no good if they're ripped," said his companion, a thin woman with black hair tied back into a pony tail.

Neither one had noticed the queen approach, which greatly irritated her.

"Just think what we could..." said the man, interrupted by a loud throat clearing from the queen.

The two dropped their tapestry and practically jumped out of their skins.

"What do you think you are doing?" Asked the visibly angry queen.