Call off your servants so you can go have sex in your room

Philia: "We gotta find a better place than this."

Sophie: "You're right. The cleaners might be here any moment, and they're not gonna like what they see. It's funny - I'm the most powerful person on planet, and ain't nobody gonna lay a finger on me without my explicit permission, but jaded cleaning ladies... *shudder*. They terrify me."

In saying this, you're already dialing the service number of your room. One of your servants answers.

Luigi: "Room service of Queen Sophie of Kpau, Luigi on the phone. How may I be of assistance?"

Sophie: "Cut the crap, greenhorn. I'm bringing a high-end guest for a meeting, and we require absolute privacy. So vacate your sorry asses out in five, or I'll have the guards drag you out."

Luigi: "As you wish. Was there anything else?"

Sophie: "Hold a moment."

You cover the mic with your paw and whisper to Philia:

Sophie:"(Whaddya wanna eat?)"

Philia: "Huh? Uhh... how about cold smoked salmon, beef stew, french fries with aioli mayo and... a dessert table. And soda for drinks."

Ohohoo, Philia likes to eat, it seems. Same boat, you're salivating at the thought. You can only hope that the chefs are up to the task. You present the daunting order to Luigi.

Sophie: "Did you get all that?"

Luigi: "Of course Your Highness. What would you like for the dessert table?"

Sophie: "Ohh let's see... Get us two of everything."

Luigi: "Hmm..."

Sophie: "Is there a problem?"

Luigi: "I'll be glad to supply this order, but just so Your Highness knows, there are over 13 thousand dessert items on the palace menu."

Sophie: "Ah, of course. Cancel that. We're having two of everything that starts with 'C'."

Luigi: "Yes, Your Higness. I'll make sure to relay your order to the chefs and waiters."

Hell yeah, you're starving by now. This body of yours is super cool, but it consumes energy like a goddamn Dyson sphere. Of course, having copious amounts of sex in a short amount of time might have to do with this as well...

You head over to your room on the upper levels of your palace. The security this high up in the planet's chain of command is superb. If you called the Royal Department of Intelligence right now, they could tell you how many specs of dust there are in the hallway leading to your room. A visitor could never tell there are always eyes upon them, and they could get incapacitated with an automated laser system under certain conditions.

You enter the antechamber, where you had your bukkake session just earlier this morning. As stipulated, there's a three-course meal for two with the promised foods, including the dessert table. Not a small one either - it stretches from wall to wall in the cavernous room. Cookies, cotton candy, carrot cake, coconuts, chocolate cake, custard, cantaloupe, cashews, cherries, créme caramel, clafoutis, cassata, castella, chantilly, cheesecake, chiffon cake, cupcakes, candy canes, candy corns, candy cigarettes, caramel, cezerye, chikki, comfits, cuberdons, churros... The list just goes on.

Sophie: "Geez, how did they do this all in five minutes? Either they're stocked for the apocalypse or **** for a bonus."

Philia's ran off ahead and is peeking from the doorway into your room.

Philia: "Wow Sophie, your room's a mess."

Sophie: "I know, ain't it great?"

However tight security measures are in your palace, your own room is clear of any scrutiny. This is where you can forget about the troubles of your Kingdom and your mantle as the supreme ruler of billions. Here you can live like any normal catgirl. Nobody is allowed in here besides invited guests, not even cleaners, servants or body guards.