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The royal treasury was on fire.
Not metaphorically. Literally. Blue-gold flames danced out of the vault, singing a melody that sounded suspiciously like laughter.
"My Queen," the Royal Accountant squeaked, clutching his ledger. "The vault is… uh… laughing again."
I sighed and took a sip of rose tea. "It does that sometimes. It's shy."
"No, Your Majesty," he gulped, trembling so hard his wings buzzed, "it's laughing because it's empty. Completely empty. Negative, even!"
I blinked. "Negative? That's impossible. I personally enchanted it to refill with moonlight taxes every new moon."
"Yes, well, the moon hasn't been paying taxes lately," he muttered under his breath.
Before I could throw my teacup at him, a burst of glitter exploded through the grand doors. In walked the Fairy Council — four elderly fairies in oversized robes and judgmental expressions. Never a good sign.
"Queen Lyria of the Silver Bloom," the eldest croaked, "you stand accused of reckless spending, misuse of royal funds, and summoning twelve unnecessary rainbows last Tuesday."
I gasped. "They were emotionally necessary! The gardens looked so gloomy!"
"Silence," another councilor snapped. "Due to the debt exceeding seven billion glimmer-coins, the council hereby—"
The head fairy slammed his wand onto the floor. "—strips you of your royal title and magic until your debt is repaid!"
The throne room fell silent. Even the flames stopped laughing.
I stood there, teacup frozen midair, trying to process the absurdity. "Wait. You're firing your queen? That's illegal. I wrote the laws!"
The councilors ignored me. The ground beneath me began to glow.
"Effective immediately, you are banished to the human realm," said the head fairy, grimly. "May you find humility… and employment."
"Employment?!" I shrieked. "I don't even know what that is!"
The next thing I knew, a blinding light swallowed me whole. My wings dissolved into sparkles, my crown vanished, and the last thing I heard was Puff, my tiny assistant, yelling, "Don't forget your tea, Your Majesty—!"
Then—
THUD.
Pain. Cold. And a strange smell.
When I opened my eyes, I was surrounded by metal bins, stale bread, and a pigeon glaring at me with royal disapproval.
"Ugh," I groaned, sitting up. "What dimension of doom is this?"
The pigeon cooed, unimpressed.
"Oh splendid," I muttered. "Even the wildlife judges me now."
A human voice broke the silence. "Um… are you okay, miss? Why are you glowing?"
I turned. A boy about my age — messy hair, tired eyes, holding a bag of groceries — stared at me as if I were a rare zoo exhibit.
"Glowing?" I repeated, standing up (and nearly tripping over a banana peel). "Excuse you, peasant, but I am Queen Lyria of the Silver Bloom!"
He blinked. "...Right. And I'm the Tooth Fairy."
And that, dear reader, was how the mighty Fairy Queen of a thousand years began her new life — homeless, powerless, and apparently, glowing in a trash can.
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