Roses blossomed all around. Layered blossoms in reds and pinks let off a heady fragrance. Wound into trellises, delicate vines climbed upwards, heavy with bloom. Interspersed with the red blossoms, brilliant white roses unfurled under the sun. Thorns snarled at the end of Mouse’s skirt, searching for a hold. He yanked his skirt away and turned the corner.

Seated at a spindly white table, Sabelyn lifted a teacup to her lips. Three tiers of treats sat atop a tall tea tray, and a porcelain tea set barely fit on the tiny table. Smiling coyly, she nodded to one of her friends.

Sabelyn’s expression darkened at the sight of Mouse. She waved her hand, and her friends stood and vanished, leaving behind half-finished snacks and tea. Taking the cue, Mouse sat opposite Sabelyn and smiled.

“After what happened, you still think you can waltz in here?” Sabelyn asked calmly.

“I should ask you that,” Mouse replied. He threw the tea out of one of the cups, wiped the rim, and filled it with fresh tea.

An uneasy silence settled over the table, broken only by the quiet click of porcelain.

“I take it you haven’t been summoned by His Majesty?” Sabelyn asked at last.

“And yourself, neither?” Mouse returned.

She shook her head. “It is a… concerning development. One I would like to know more about.”

Mouse nodded. So she’s in the dark, the same as me. He set down his cup. “I am quite curious, princess—after that display before the king, it is plain to see that His Majesty is little more than a figurehead. As such, what is your interest in chasing him?”

“Does a pawn need knowledge of the queen’s plans to march onward?”

Another pause. Mouse sipped his tea, waiting.

At last, Sabelyn shook her head. “A figurehead has its own uses. What I want is power. Rulership, if you will. Figureheads can continue on blindly as muddleheaded figureheads, but a wily companion could seize upon such ceremonial rank to further their own goals.”

Find this and other great novels on the author's preferred platform. Support original creators!

Mouse nodded. She wants to marry him to gain power greater than her brother and become the true ruler of the human kingdom. No other man, neither a foreign prince nor a human noble, could offer her such a chance at power. The human kingdom defaults to a male ruler, after all. No matter who she married, her brother would become king, and she, likely as not, would become another country’s queen or a mere high-ranking human noble.

There is no species that would accept a monarch from outside of their own species, so marrying another country’s king is as much a dead end as marrying a human noble. Even considering fratricide, she would lose out to her husband or to a male cousin when it came time to choose Reginald’s replacement. However, with Felix as the Emperor in name but incapable in actuality, Sabelyn could use his title to seize power over the humans’ country—perhaps even the entire Barrier Alliance—and rule over her brother and the Emperor both. An emperor outranks a king, after all.

He shook his head. Sabelyn had to go to so much trouble to gain power, all because of the humans’ silly traditions. We moon elves have the better method. Any royal can inherit the throne, regardless of gender, as long as they attain the blessing of the current monarch. If Sabelyn was born one of us, she would only have to contend with Reginald for the crown, not crawl and scrape her way into a marriage.

“And you, you never desired him from the start. Why not?”

“We are a long-lived race. A human’s life is but a fleeting moment to a moon elf. I could not bear to grow attached.”

“A romantic. How unexpected,” Sabelyn commented.

Mouse took a sip to wash the taste of bullshit out of his mouth. “I have a soft side, too.”

Sabelyn sat back. Her eyelids lowered, calculating. “What we both need most now is to know what occurs within the Mage-Emperor’s quarters. So far, only the demoness and the fae have absconded there. Neither proved willing to share what occurred within, unsurprisingly. He has yet to choose a princess for tonight. While I do not fear being called upon, I would prefer to be… prepared.”

Mouse raised an eyebrow. “Prepared?”

She waved a hand. “Gossips will as they do. If I somehow fail at capturing the Mage-Emperor, I cannot have myself stained with a… reputation. I must remain untouchable, unsullied, a lily in the mud, you understand?”

“It’s your brother who requires a lesson on the concept, not me.”

Sabelyn’s eyes narrowed. Mouse smiled sweetly and sipped his tea.

“In any case,” Sabelyn continued, “if it is an innocent… overnight stay, then we must disseminate such knowledge before I am called upon. If it is not innocent, then other preparations must be made.”

“Other preparations?”

“A maid to stumble in at an opportune time, a companion to keep him busy, a horrible illness that suddenly befalls my brother and yanks me away from his arms. Preparations.”

Mouse nodded, understanding. He stood. “My thanks for the tea.”

“Please, stop by any time.” Sabelyn’s lips curled up, but her eyes narrowed unsmilingly.