As they passed through the door, Spar caught sight of him and snickered. Mouse shot a fierce glare at Spar and pretended not to notice his glances. Quietly, Spar followed behind them, hooves clopping against the stone.

“I don’t like Reginald,” Felix grumbled.

“Me either,” Mouse agreed.

“I wish I could just—” His grip on Mouse tightened.

“He’s the crown prince, Your Majesty. You’d need to challenge him to a duel first, at least.”

Felix snorted. “Like you did?”

“He challenged me,” Mouse corrected smugly.

Felix sighed, shaking his head. There was a pause, and then he sighed a second time. “The king is holding court tomorrow. I suppose I should go.”

“You should.”

“And you’ll be there?”

“Naturally.”

He nodded. “We should bring up the blight in the Arena.”

Mouse yawned. “The king already commissioned an investigation to hunt it down. I’m sure it’ll be fine.”

Felix furrowed his brows. “I don’t know. Something fishy is going on.”

“Is it?” Mouse glanced up at him.

“Blight appears in the capitol city for the first time in centuries, and the king barely bats an eye? Isn’t that odd?”

Mouse hummed. “No, you’re right. It didn’t strike me as odd because blight is much more common in Soanna.”

“So common that a casual order is normal?”

Mouse laughed. “There’s hardly a day we moon elves don’t confront blight. We’re on the frontlines of the battle, after all. If it appeared in our capitol, there might be a bit more excitement, but usually the arrival of a new case of blight wouldn’t make its way to our monarch.”

Felix walked in silence for a few moments. When he spoke, he hesitated, thinking first. “You fight on the frontlines, while us humans sit in safety and sling insults at you moon elves. Drow, poisonous, border race… doesn’t it bother you?”

Mouse shrugged. “It’s how it’s always been, Your Majesty. I can’t say I like it, but… if I let myself get riled up by every little thing, I'd never calm down.”

“You shouldn't have to put up with that. We’re all part of the Barrier Alliance. The races should all stand as equals. No one should see themselves as inherently above another.”

“Says His Majesty the Mage-Emperor,” Mouse chuckled.

Felix winced. “You know I don’t see myself that way.”

The atmosphere became serious. Not knowing what to say, Mouse shut his mouth and closed his eyes, pretending to sleep.

The gentle sway almost rocked him to sleep in actuality. When Felix stopped, he half-opened his eyes and peered out, yawning.

“Your rooms,” Felix announced.

Stolen from its rightful author, this tale is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

Mouse stretched and pushed his way out of Felix’s hold. He straightened his skirts lazily, one hand on the wall. “Your Majesty, I think you have a good dream.”

Felix inclined his head half an inch, oddly stiff.

“However, if you want to achieve it, you can’t be Felix. You have to become the Mage-Emperor.”

He spread his arms, a small, tense smile on his face. “Aren’t I already?”

Mouse looked over the finery, the braiding on the jacket, the perfectly tailored trousers, the lovely, now-muddied shoes, then back up to the youthful face and glistening, soft eyes. He shook his head. “No. Not yet. You’re just a boy, playing pretend.”

Felix flinched, hurt.

“But you have the potential. As long as you hold on to that dream of yours, I will do everything in my power to see you installed in true power.”

Honey-colored eyes found Mouse’s. Something like hope glistened in their depths. “Truly?”

“Truly.”

As he said the word, Mouse’s voice dropped an octave. He put a hand to his throat, eyes wide. Shit, the potion wore off!

“Mouse?” Felix’s brows furrowed, concerned.

Mouse grinned and giggled in an awkward falsetto. Waving and curtseying, he ducked through the door and slammed it in Felix’s face.

On the other side, Dayander stared. He rushed over and hissed, “Did you just slam that door in—”

“Dayander, the fucking voice potion wore off,” Mouse hissed back.

“Mouse? Are you okay?”

“He…er, she’s fine, Your Majesty! Just tired. Many apologies, but it seems she’s already fallen asleep.”

There was a pause. “Who… are you?”

Dayander kicked Mouse toward the bed. He jogged over and dove in, tugging the sheets over his head.

He opened the door with a smile and offered his hand. “Her trusted advisor, Your Majesty. Dayander. Quite honored to meet you. I believe we’ve met briefly before, at court…”

Felix shook Dayander’s hand, brows still furrowed. “Er, Mouse…?”

Dayander gestured. “Asleep! You’ll have to come back tomorrow.”

Mouse let off some snores, extra loud.

Felix blinked. “We were just…”

“Just?” Dayander prompted.

Over Felix’s shoulder, Spar peered into the room curiously, craning his long, equine neck to get a better angle.

“Just… nothing. My apologies. I’ll be back tomorrow.” Pushing a ton or so of unicornflesh back with some effort, Felix bowed to Dayander and backed out of the room.

Dayander bowed back as deep as his old back would allow and shut the door. He turned to Mouse. “What did you do now?”

“Ruin these sheets,” Mouse grumbled, climbing out of bed. Mud and pond water stained the previously-flawless sheets.

For a second, Dayander frowned at the sheets, but then he whirled on Mouse. “That’s not what I meant. The Mage-Emperor. What happened between you?”

Mouse yanked off the dress, glad to finally be free of the muddy skirts. He kicked them into a corner for good riddance. “Not much. I showed him a few spells—that’s all the overnight invitation was. A few things happened, we purified some goblins, and anyways, Moss should have a great bond with the Mage-Emperor whenever she gets back. Where is she, anyways? Has Mother found her yet?”

Dayander narrowed his eyes. “You don’t get to dodge the question like that. A few things happened? You purified someone?”

“Ah, yeah, I got blessed by the Moon Goddess. Fantastic, right?”

“Congratulations, Your Highness. Did you show him the ritual, as well?” Dayander asked dryly.

“Who am I to deny the Mage-Emperor?”

Dayander put his head in his hands. “Those rituals are intensely private and form the most important aspects of our worship of the Moon Goddess, and you showed—”

“Eleda showed hers, too. It was only fair.” Mouse stretched, glad to be free of the corsets and straps. He plopped down on the bed, then immediately bounced up again. “Where’s the clean sheets?”

“Never mind the sheets. What other spells did you show him? Nothing too serious, I hope?”

“Eh… a group purification and the blight location spell. Just the standard stuff.”

Dayander’s eyes bugged out of his head. “The blight location spell? You mean the one spell we moon elves are never meant to reveal, the one spell that serves as the foundation of our long-term claim as a essential member of the Barrier Alliance, as the only race who can sense and detect blight from afar?”

“Is it that important? Someone should’ve told me,” Mouse yawned. “Anyways, only moonlight elementals can use it. Aside from moon elves and the Mage-Emperor, who uses that element?”

“Spells can be modified, my dear brainless child,” Dayander groaned. He put his head in his hands. “Oh, dear. Your mother will not be pleased.”

“Hey, if you’re communicating with Mother, tell her to find Moss and send her down here already. You think I’m having fun stuck in the human country, playing dress-up?”

“She hasn’t found Moussaesa yet. Patience.”

Mouse found a dry segment of the bed and plopped down in it. “Then tell her to have some of that patience with me, because I never asked to get stuck with this bullshit.”

“Mouse—”

He rolled over and closed his eyes. The same fake snores from before drifted from the bed.

Dayander sighed and hung his head. He rubbed the back of his neck and wandered off. Under his breath, he grumbled, “I’m too old for babysitting, dammit.”