The Extremely Happy Time Machine

Previously

…“The Whispering Woods it is!” Lily announced, already picturing the adventure. Sir Reginald, oblivious to the plans being hatched for his emotional well-being, grunted and took a large, unenthusiastic bite of his swan. The feast, for him, was a hollow affair, a silent testament to a joy that had been snatched away, leaving only a gnawing emptiness and a profound, unshakeable grumpiness. He missed the silly toy. He missed the laughter. And, though he would never admit it, he missed the loyal jester who had tried so desperately to bring it back. The knight’s lament, it seemed, was a song of lost mirth, and the melody was only just beginning to be understood.