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A Dance Without Rhythm
Chapter 1 - The Prince of Pressure

Chapter 1 - The Prince of Pressure

The rings of the new planet form a glowing arch over The Kingdom, one of humanity’s older settlements. A boy in a fine silk cloak runs between rows of prefabricated buildings in what he would consider to be a full sprint and what anyone else might call a brisk walk. Princes aren’t supposed to so heavily exert themselves, but Howard makes an exception for tonight.

The Earth temple closes soon, and he doesn’t want to inconvenience the old man.

He stops several times to dump pebbles from his slippers before finally arriving. Unlike the plastic prefabs around it, the outside of this building has been scored and painted to appear as if it were made from planks of wood.

Howard nudges the weightless door open. Brown plastic pews line from where he stands all the way to the stage at around half the temple’s length. Multicolor grids of glass tiles let in just enough ringlight to illuminate the room without wasting precious electricity.

“Pastor Nickel?” Prince Howard calls.

“I’ll be with you in just a moment!” An old man’s voice answers from behind the stage. The prince sits on the pulpit closest to the stage and waits patiently for the pastor.

“Howard? What are you doing here?” The old man sits beside the prince, wearing black vestments with a small pin depicting Earth above his heart.

“I need help, Mr. Nick. I know it’s my fault you were fired from the palace, and I’m sorry for bothering you here so late, but I just don’t know where to go or who else to talk to-”

“Peace.” Nickel takes a deep, slow breath, motioning for Howard to do the same. “It’s good to see you again. I have missed you.”

“I missed you too.”

“Now, let’s see what I can do to help. How often now are you having temptations?”

“Every time I look at my reflection. I’ve covered my mirror, but it doesn’t help at all.”

“And are they the same desires as before? The, hmm,” Pastor Nickel strokes his white goatee, “the one we talked about last?”

“The dress one, yeah.” Prince Howard blushes.

“Young man, there is no need to be embarrassed; everyone has degenerate thoughts sometimes. What’s important is not what you think, but what you do. Have you acted on any of the urges?”

“No.”

“Then you are a stronger man than you give yourself credit for. All day people come to me, confessing the ways they stray from our traditions. And not one of them has had a demon come to personally tempt them from the path. To tell you the truth, I admire your resolve. I don’t think I could last half as long as you have.” The old man stands up.

“Well, thanks, but what do I do? She still won’t leave me alone, and-”

“Just keep doing what you have been doing, and you will be fine. You can have a billion blasphemous thoughts, so long as you just don’t act any of them out.”

“But the demon-”

“Goodnight, Prince Howard. It is late, and you really shouldn’t be here.”

“Oh. Goodnight, Mr. Nick.”

Howard picks a rock and kicks it all the way back to the palace.

Well that was a bust. I don’t know how much longer I can keep this up. The things she shows me, I want them more than I want life itself. I cannot allow myself to fall from the path.

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I will become king, and kings must be strong. I will persevere.

He repeats the affirmation a few more times to hype himself up. She always comes at the end of a bad day, and today was worse than most. He waves to the guards as he enters the palace. They do not react.

Good composure, I guess. I should make dinner, since dad’ll be dining with that ambassador.

Howard enters the private kitchen, reserved for himself and his two sisters. Technically the king too, but he never cooks his own food.

All of the cabinets containing food are already open, revealing a variety of foods stocked by the royal kitchens. Princess Arabella is splayed out beneath them, taking up the majority of free space on the floor. Howard nudges her with his foot.

“Get out of the way, freeloader.” She groans, but makes no attempt to move.

Howard sighs and resigns to cooking around his year younger sibling. He searches pots and pans, gathering ingredients around the stove, all the whilst careful not to step on his sleepy sister.

“I’ll have mine to go.” Arabella says, her face an inch away from Howard’s foot. “Also, your shoes are gross. Did you wear those outside?”

“Why of course I can make you some food.” Says Howard, having already measured out enough beans for the two of them. “Anything for my sister.”

“You didn’t answer my question.”

“Isn’t it obvious?”

“Okay, let me rephrase. Why were you outside? It’s literally midnight.”

“11:30.”

“I hate you.”

“Careful. I could step on your face at any moment.” Howard successfully suppresses a smirk.

Arabella doesn’t. “With your butt-nasty slippers?”

Howard drops a buttered tortilla onto the pan. The pan hisses, then falls to a sizzle when he pours beans and cheese on top of it.

“These shoes work for me.” Howard flips the tortilla in half and pats it down with a spatula. “Men don’t need a special shoe for every occasion.”

“Chtck chtck. That’s the sound of me punching my ‘Howard Brings Up Gender Apropos Of Nothing’ card. I’m only one more away from getting a free smoothie.”

Howard frowns. Arabella grabs his ankle.

“Hey, there’s something that I want to talk to you about.”

“Hmm?” He dumps the quesadilla onto a plate, and starts making another one.

“You have to promise not to freak out and tell dad though.”

“I promise.”

“I’ve been on the internet.”

Howard hesitates.

“Arabella. That’s illegal. How did you even get on it?”

“The Yanks launched a satellite last month. They say they’re going to connect the whole world together, like how it was on Earth.”

“That’s!” Howard thinks, and supposes that that’s technically true. Earth’s internet did span the entire planet, or so the story goes. But the Yanks are not devoted to the old ways like The Kingdom is, and that makes him suspicious.

“Well, I guess that’s not a heresy, but still! Be careful, be critical, and definitely don’t go spreading that information around. If the people find out one of us is breaking that law, we could stand to lose quite a bit of influence. They’d definitely push harder for it to be repealed.”

“I know, I know. That’s not what I wanted to say though. There are these people, and they’re called transgender-”

“Stop.” Howard says. “I know what those people are. I am not one of them.”

“Why not? I know you enjoyed it when I used to practice makeup on you.”

Howard pretends to inspect the ceiling. The quesadilla in the pan begins to blacken.

“It’s not right. People didn’t do that back on Earth. If we allowed ourselves to start changing, we’d keep changing until we forgot who we were. Our ancestors made a promise to never forget, and it’s our turn to uphold it. Even if that means a little discomfort every now and again.”

“But do you want to be a girl? Putting the sacred duty stuff aside, would you rather be a woman or a man?”

“It’s illegal.”

“Not up north.”

Howard looks down at Arabella.

“I’d have to leave everything behind and start a new life. I’d lose everything.”

“You wouldn’t lose me.”

Howard goes back to inspecting the ceiling through blurred vision. That is, until he smells something burning.

“My quesadilla!”

Arabella laughs as he throws it off the heat, missing the plate entirely and landing on the counter. The top half looks fine, but the underside is burnt. He takes an experimental bite.

It sucks that it’s burnt, but it’s not as bad as I thought it’d be.

Arabella finally gets off the floor, and together they finish the meal.

“I could kind of go for seconds.” Arabella says.

“There’s enough to make more. I could eat another one too.”

“...Nevermind, I’m full.”

“Freeloader.”

Arabella sticks her tongue out. They clean the kitchen up together, then go to their separate rooms.

That was good. I hope I never lose her.

Howard hops into his room, sliding his slippers off, kicking the door closed behind him, and throwing his cloak into the corner in a well practiced show of dexterity. Clothes fly onto the pile as Howard makes his way to the opposite side of his room. By the time he reaches his bed, he’s already in his night clothes.

Howard lays down, closes his eyes, and is lulled into a deep sleep that lasts all of a few seconds before a demonic presence pulls him back.

Not her again. Please, can’t she leave me alone for one night?

A high pitched whine sounds from everywhere at once. Bright light shines from behind the closet door. The shadows in the room melt like liquid that flows up into the ceiling and into the vents. Howard is forced to squint as the door is opened, revealing the demon that fills his mind with degenerate desires.

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