The robed man looked out over the immaculately striped lawn resting in the moonlight. He closed the heavy curtains and turned slowly towards the woman sitting on the gilded four poster bed.

“Thank God this day is almost over. How are you faring my dear queen, finally this consort nonsense is behind us,” he said.

“We are indeed blessed; the day could not have gone b—” A sudden rumbling from the walk-in wardrobe made them both turn towards the closed door. There was a faint light eminating from the keyhole.

“How peculiar, that door never used to have a keyhole…” the man said and started towards the intense beam of light that now seemed to grow larger and almost embracing the whole bedroom.

“Careful my dear, do call the guards instead of —” The door opened and out through the light stepped a small figure.

“HIIIIIIII! All doors want to have a keyhole, so I did a helping!” The boy spoke and the light seemed to dance around them in a merry waltz. That it was a waltz they were sure of; that the boy Jay was eleven and from outside of the universe there was also no doubting. How they knew they did not know. Some things just are. Especially on days like this.