The Queen Clementianna

I have no wrinkles. They're not wrinkles, just crinkles.

— What I don't understand is how you intend to pay for the party. It pains me to say this, but you're broke, my Queen.
— Then go collect more taxes.
— Your Majesty, I don't know the last time you were in the town, but the people are starving.
— Do you have no imagination? Go tell the villagers that bread is meat, less is more, blah, blah, blah. Commoners love a good metaphor.

Oh, for the love of God, could someone please get this man a shirt so I can concentrate!