Credit to author and illustrator Tomie dePaola for Strega Nona, and the Disney Wiki for assorted facts - like how Maldonia's language is derived from Italian.

Their Majesties, King Adalfieri and Queen Elisabetta of Maldonia, had hardly been intrusive parents. They allowed Naveen free reign of his time outside royal obligations and lessons, free use of the allowance granted to him as Crown Prince, and free right of associating with whom he desired. They (and the prince's wet nurse, and nannies, and chaperones, and tutors, and bodyguards) had raised a child with fair use of reason, they believed, and was therefore entitled to their trust.

Which was why they were glad for the fourteen year gap between Naveen and Raphaele, for God help them, they had learned from their mistakes.

After, by royal decree, Naveen's allowance was cut to cover but the basic necessities, and by royal decree announced that Naveen was to travel to the United States under the guise of attending the Mardi Gras celebrations in New Orleans, Queen Elisabetta scoured the court for someone who could, by means physical or magical (or even illegal) put a bell on their wayward firstborn. Letters were slow, wires unreliable when left to Naveen's discretion, and anything less than constant vigilance made their hearts cold with terror. Which was how, after countless disappointments, attempted forgeries, and even one memorable failed assassination, Naveen's old nanny came forth from the very southernmost ends of the kingdom with an ancient woman with placid eyes in tow.

The woman, who answered only to Strega Nona was old, gentle, and intent on listening rather than bludgeoning the King and Queen with her own knowledge. In fact, she listened to their paternal dilemma so patiently that King Adalfieri eventually forgot he was speaking to one of his subjects and not the Queen Mother (may she rest in peace).

"- and the girls, Strega Nona, the girls. Just last week we have had father and uncles and brothers and- and second cousins demanding their right to challenge Naveen to a duel. Were it not for the diplomatic engagement in New Orleans he would be dead or a fugitive, and I cannot begin to decide which I'd prefer." The king sagged desperately on the velvet cushions as his wife tenderly combed his gray forelocks.

"We have limited his income, taken away his privileges." Added the queen with resignation. "But the greatest inventions of man speak more of his laziness than his intelligence, no?" She sighed. "If there is a way to live in comfort without our help, he will find it. All we ask, dear woman, is that you allow us to follow his steps."

Strega Nona nodded gravely. "You have been permissive. You have been perhaps too absent. But you must not lose hope." From her reticule, she produced a worn deck of playing cards. The king barely hid a roll of his eyes (how many tarotists had come to their doors?) and was ready to sit through an hour of grandiose vagaries when Strega Nona dealt herself the cards. Or rather, when the deck flourished into a complex design – without a single touch.

"Let us see…the prince is lazy. He is a terribly prolific flirt - ah, he is at port, serenading the Duchess of Scordia with poetry as he bids her goodbye, expect a stern letter from her husband – and he has plans, yes. Marrying a young woman who is rich. A fitting solution for a man so used to sweetening the female ear." Strega Nona cast a few more cards. "He shall be met in the ship by Lawrence Malvolio, whom you have appointed Royal Valet. Hmm." Strega Nona snatched up her cards (or rather ordered them back into the box with an elegant sweep) and turned her chair towards their majesties. Politely ignoring the King while he wiped the unbecoming shock from his face, Strega Nona addressed the Queen. "This Lawrence, he is the brother to Count Malvolio? Yes? Well, you would do well to check the good Count's tax regime. As for our wayward young prince, allow him to reach his final destination. I am afraid that, clear as his objectives appear to himself, he does not really know what he wants! Summon me again in three weeks when the ship has touched port." She bowed deeply.

"Signora, your payment-"

"Summon me again in three weeks' time, Your Highness. Have a good evening."

Three weeks later, after Count Malvolio was imprisoned over the impoverished state of his countymen and the excessive taxation was dealt with, Strega Nona was once more seated at the table set up for her in the queen's boudoir. The cards flew from their box once more.

"The prince has wasted no time indeed. He has his sights set on Charlotte La Bouff, sole heir of the La Bouff sugar plantations –quite prolific – and the young lady has her sights set on a prince, whichever his name or his kingdom might be. Handsome pair, I fear." Even Strega Nona had to shake her head. "But I dither. What has happened to Count Malvolio?"

"He was found to be a cruel slavedriver to his countymen and imprisoned. As per your warning, Strega Nona." The king was halting, for had the witch truly forgotten?

"Good good. I fear the hunger for gold runs in the family, however…"

The queen gasped. "Lawrence, you mean? How? Naveen is all but destitute!"

"Yes. But a man…a man wreathed in skulls, will plant in him the idea of becoming the young lady La Bouff's husband. He will wear Naveen's face. A feat that, given certain means, is…easy." And with that, Strega Nona briefly changed her face into that of a young boy's. The illusion lasted seconds. The King's heart jumped like a child's spring toy.

"We must go rescue Naveen! Arrange for a detachment of guards! Request his extradition!"

"Why did I not insist he take his aunt Ferdinanda as chaperone instead!?" The Queen clutched at her head in despair.

"The prince treads dark waters. And yet…" Two cards were dealt. Then three. Then four. And then Strega Nona's eyes shone. "No. You will do no such thing."

"You would have us leave our son at the mercy of a conman! Dear Strega Nona…!"

"He will not be alone." Strega Nona tapped her fingers. Three cards flew out from the deck. "He will have friends. A…very kind man of the country…a very gifted young…musician…and a hard-working young woman." She drew another card. "Fear not. They shall save him."

The queen looked on in awe. The King did not consider himself the foremost authority on tarot cards, but the "gifted musician" card looked astonishingly green and pointy-teethed to his untrained eyes. Then again, the matronly old witch had not led them astray yet.

Strega Nona drew a final card – and gasped. But she ordered her cards back into the box right quick after that. "You must wait for a week, and then set out for the United States. You will accept your son's explanations as best you can. And above all," she added with a smile "remember to take deep breaths."

"Signora, your pay! Will you not accept even a coin?"

Strega Nona hesitated for a second. Then she smiled and said. "Not a coin. But perhaps, if she finds a way to make them last the journey…do ask, when you meet Miss Tiana, that she see if she might send with you a few beignets."