Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

I’ve never seen a man quite like the creature that stands before me. Standing still there is nothing noteworthy. He’s of average height and build. Black hair, maybe a little too shiny. Beautiful green eyes, that rest just a little too open. His features are sharp, angular even. He reaches his hand out to shake mine. There’s the idiosyncrasy. His arms are tense and his skin seems to fit too tightly. It reminds me of trying to remove a dress that’s soaked from the rain.  He wears a wide smile that accentuates the winkles of his eyes.

“Hello Rosalina. My name is Luma. I’ve been looking for you.” 

I should be scared of this very strange man but he feels familiar. We are standing in the living room of the orphanage I grew up in. It is bright and cheery like always. The walls are littered with the latest artistic endeavors of my peers and I. I have to show him my painting. 

“Hello, Luma. Can I show you something?”

I take his outstretched hand and lead him to our makeshift gallery. 

Where is it? 

Where did they hang it? 

There it is! Just between a drawing of a brown dog and a collage of leaves. Most of the residents are much younger than I am. It's rare to stay here so long. I hold out my work. 

“This one.” 

A dark sky filled with constellations and galaxies. The night sky has always been comforting to me. I imagine what it must be like living in a far away kingdom. It must be better than a dusty orphanage where everyone shutters at your touch. 

“Well done. You are very special.” 

I like this peculiar man. We are both peculiar. Otherworldly. That’s how I wound up here. My parents didn’t understand my eccentricity. 

“That’s the very reason I came here. There are things we must discuss.” 

His smile never fades. His dark hair contrasts his green eyes. They are cheerful and bright, nearly sparkling. 

“What should we have to discuss? We are strangers.” 

Why aren’t I scared? A smiling man shows up to speak with an abandoned girl. This would cause discomfort in even the most curious of people. 

“You see the future. Don’t you already know?” 

I wring my hands to ease my discomfort. This is the point people generally start to fear me.

“It doesn’t always work like that.”

Hopefully my limitations ease his fear. 

“We can help you learn.” 

He isn’t scared of my gift, or as my parents called it: curse.

“We need you. The Celestial Kingdom needs you.”

A pause. He gestures to me, an approximation of that at least. 

“You need us too.” 

He holds up my painting. My painting of the same sky everyone could see. If they only bothered to look. I don’t know what he’s talking about. He reaches his hand into the pocket of his cloak and pulls out a pendant. The movements are stiff and disjointed.

It’s hypnotizing. A large orange stone, oval shaped, framed by five points of silver that form a star. I’m equally certain that I’ve never seen it before and that it is mine.

The stone glitters as it passes through the sun beam between us. The reflects twinkling.

“Our king passed away some time ago.”

He brings his hand to his face. Acting out the motions of a person in thought.

“How old are you exactly?”

“I’m 14.”

“Precisely! It took me a long time to find you. Would you mind being less difficult next time?” 

“Why would you even want to find me?”

“Your gift!” 

My face betrays my feigned hesitation. My interest is palpable. 

“It’s all true. Let me put it frankly. Don’t you want loyal subjects-”

“People that love and adore you-“

“They work for you, pay taxes to you, and  die for you.”

“They will even kill for you.” 

“You are their God.”

Each statement punctuated with gesticulation. Like a marionette who needs restringing. 

“That can’t be true. I’m just a person.”

I’m lying. He knows I’m lying. 

I saw the fear in my parents faces when I started seeing visions. They never had any reason to fear me. Why didn’t they see that I am special? Luma sees it. All my life I have craved my rightful destiny. 

I can be God. 

“Since the death of our King, there’s been a vacancy. Won’t you take your rightful place as Oracle?” 

I can’t meet his eyes anymore. I fear my confidence’s desires are unjust. Who am I to declare myself?

“Who are you?”

“I’ve told you, I’m Luma.” 

“But you don’t even seem human.”

“How could I seem human? This isn’t even my natural body. I had to borrow this one.”

His motions emphasize his point. Suddenly my own body feels inadequate. 

“You aren’t really either.”

The air between us thickens and its weight falls in a pit in my stomach. My words catch in my throat. A truth I've always known. I saw it in the faces of everyone I’ve ever met. This was never the place I belonged. Together, Luma and I can return home.

Chapter Text

She coddles him so. Her long white hair in contrast to the flash of red sprouting from her baby’s head. Ice and fire. Chill for me. Warmth for him. I brush my own hair from my forehead. White like my father’s.

“Don’t you find it strange? The only thing we share is our last name.”

Everyone sees it. She won’t even look up at me. Bowser possesses her attention. 

“Better a cursed prince than a bastard's shame.” 

She’s right and the timing is inappropriate. A knock at the door interrupts my interrogation anyway. 

The doors part and an angel passes through them. Her blonde hair falls braided over her shoulder. Bangs frame her face, obfuscating her eyes and deep and blue as the night sky. I want to study them, discover the galaxies within them. She’s tall, her crown overshadows my own.

She crosses the room, her steps a waltz I desperately want to join. Her attendant, a Lumas, follows, his clumsiness exaggerated in comparison. Mother straightens herself as they pass.

“Prince, meet Queen Rosalina of the celestial kingdom.”

Mother is much kinder in front of others. She won't dare mention that Rosalina is a commoner by birth. Ordained by the Gift. Plucked from obscurity just a year ago. She puzzles her face while examining me. 

“Luma, You must be right, this does seem to be a prince.” 

Directed to her attendant. She pokes her finger to my crown. Her social graces could use some work but I am captivated by her presence none-the-less. 

“I am curious, aren’t princes usually big and strong?” 

Her eyes focused in on mine. Can she see the blush growing on my cheeks?

“I might not be the best example.” 

Mother chuckles. She’s never let a day pass without reminding me of my shortcomings. 

“Now that introductions are out of the way, let us head downstairs. The ball is beginning. Rosalina, you’ll need a dance partner, correct?” 

Her question is directed to the Lumas. They’re the ones who arranged this diplomatic meeting. He simply nods in response, his head landing on the incorrect plane. I have to interrupt their scheming. 

“Does she even have any dance training?” 

A half hearted protest. She makes me nervous to touch her even for a moment, let alone an entire song. 

“Boo, she needs a partner. Just make the best of it.” 

Anger flickers in her expression. 

Do our guests see it? 

Our walk downstairs is filled with chatter. The Queen and the Lumas walk ahead. She’s so pleasant to guests, really anyone but me. I remind her of my father.

That doesn’t matter. The words shared between Rosalina and I don’t matter. I can barely process them. I’m distracted by the way her eyes meet mine. The way our steps match tempo. The way she holds her hands glide as she walks.. 

I regain my senses once we reach the dance floor. The pressure of a million eyes flatten me. Rosalina pulls my hand to her waist and rests hers on my shoulder. Our remaining hands join together. 

“You’re stronger than their expectations.” 

The weight evaporates.

She doesn’t have any training that is certain. Our fumbling must draw eyes but the only ones I feel are hers. Our laughter fills my soul. 

I want to know her and have her know me. I want to escape to the stars in her eyes. 

“Let’s take a break.” 

We’re sitting too close. We’ve been touching all evening but this feels more intimate. Goosebumps start on my neck and shiver down my spine.

Mother and Luma had long since disappeared into the crowd. I spot them in a gaggle of ladies. They must be enraptured by Luma’s peculiarities. A novelty to devour. 

“Rosa, look at my mom. She has them all fooled.” 

I gesture towards the flock.

“They’re blinded by her rank as queen.” 

Her eyes are locked onto my mother. Mother flutters through the group, inspiring uproar amongst her companions. How can Rosa be so wise? She sees things so quickly. She’s only a year or two my elder.  

“But watch-“

Her ladies erupt in laughter, likely at some mundane observation. Mother takes a long drink from her glass. Her eyes shift to the throne at the front of the room. Where father entertains a young woman. 

“When they turn their backs, she pulls out her glass.”

She points to my father across the room, nestling his face in some woman’s neck. 

“To forget that.”

My eyes dart back to Mother as she’s taking a long swig from her wine. Her eyes connect with mine. I look back to Rosa.

She studies me for a moment. What is she thinking? What does she see? Does it please her?

“Do you like card games?” 

“I do.” 

With that we retreat to the weightlessness of solitude. As we pass the threshold of my room, she removes her crown. 

“We don’t have to be royalty here.” 

I remove my own in response.

Chapter Text

“In the event of war or carnation-”

I had Toadsworth to teach me some new card games.

“It will fall to you to guide our small nation-”

I hope that your next visit is soon.

“That’s why the Lumas have prepared and will provide you with a special education.” 

Yours Sincerely,

Prince Boo

Luma fingers creep over the letter and lower it. His cheery tone contrasts the morbidity of the topic. He hoists his bag onto the table before us and begins unloading items. Illuminated by the fire they have a soft iridescence.

A large mechanical top like the kids played with at the orphanage.

A smooth black orb filled with liquid.

A deck of cards filled with pictures of beautiful gods and goddesses. 

A handheld spyglass telescope.

“Regarding aptitude, every oracle possesses a unique set of abilities.” 

His gesticulations have gotten familiar with time. The theatricality splinters through his fingers. A comfort in this new world.

“This works by testing some of your previous talents.”

He’s known so many versions of me and I’ve only known the him before me. Is that why he’s so kind to me?

“For example-“

He lifts the black orb and runs his fingers over it. 

“-this allowed you to focus your visions into simple questions. Yes, no, maybe answers. That sort of thing”

I take it into my hand. What could I ask it? I squint my eyes and try to focus on some mysterious energy to concentrate into this orb. What am I even supposed to do?

Is Boo ok?

Ask again later

Disappointing. Luma peers over the table at the response.

“That one isn’t common anyway. Let’s try these instead.”

He fans out the deck of cards before me.

“Pick one.” 

My fingers are trembling as I reach forward. I wish he’d give me more instruction. 

Ouch . 

A trickle of blood appears on my finger. Reflexively I put it in my mouth. 

“No worries, my queen. We have more options to try.”

Why won’t he just tell me what to do? Is this just an exercise in misery? This is hardly an education. 

“Let’s try-“

He brings his hands to his face in thought.

“-this!”

He offers the spyglass. I take it into the palms of my hands. It’s warm. Surely it’s going to blind me the moment it touches my face.

“Go ahead.” 

He stares into my eyes as I slowly raise it to my eye.

Show me Boo.

As I peer through it, the distorted view of Luma on the other end evaporates. Sort of like a flame being ignited. Darkness dissipated by a spark. The spyglass becomes a portal to an unfamiliar room. A child’s room. A well loved child. The room is filled with every luxury I lacked in my own childhood. 

A mother with long white hair kneels before her child. I can’t see either of their faces. I pivot the spyglass around the room.

There he is! He looks healthy. I hope he’s well. 

“My little Bowser is growing up so fast.” 

Queen Morel fusses with the collar of Bowser’s shirt. He’s grown so much from the baby I met. He’s tall for a three year old. His eyes are red, like his hair. Nestled in his hair are white curved horns. His curse. My heart breaks for him. At Least I can hide my curse. 

“He’s a sweet kid.” 

Boo mumbles from the safety of his corner. His gaze lowered to the floor. What has happened to him?

“Nothing like you were-“

Queen Morel’s head pops to his direction. Rage flickers across her face.

“-you take after your father.“

Her words punctuated by her steps as she crosses the room.

“Closed off-“

“Cold-“

“Selfish.” 

Each accusation emphasized with a finger press against his chest. His shoulders slope in response.

“It must run in the family, Mom.” 

His eyes meet hers. Her mouth twists at the title.

“What do you see, your majesty?”

I’m grateful for Luma’s interruption. I move the spyglass from my face just slightly, enough to break contact, ending the vision. 

“I see the mushroom kingdom.”

I mime looking through the spyglass around the room. Hopefully he won’t notice the change.

“It’s the orphanage, I wanted to check in on them.” 

I’m not sure he buys it but he doesn’t push the subject. I rest the spyglass on my lap.

“You truly are special. I appreciate your sentimentality but this brings us to our next lesson.” 

He sits across from me. His expression is serious in a way I’ve never seen before.

“It is an oracle’s job to keep us safe. You must protect our, your, people safe.”

My people. These are my people. The same people previous oracles severed before. Previous mes. Why didn’t I do more?

“When innocent lives were victims in war, why didn’t I stop it?” 

If I can have a vision, shouldn’t I use it? Will I be able to save Boo?

“I can’t say. You said it was better that way.” 

His stoicism breaks into that cheshire grin.

“So if you see an upcoming conflict, we must pull out if there’s no way to stop it.” 

His familiar gesticulations.

“If we take sides-“

“We’ll make enemies!”

He’s pleased with my response. 

“Exactly! So what must an oracle do?”

“I must protect my people first!”

He nods and takes my hands. The Lumas are my people. They’ve taken me in and supported me. I will protect them. 

The weight of a hand falls on my shoulder. I glance back to find a woman, much older than I am. She has long blonde hair and deep blue eyes. She’s dressed in an ornately decorated white gown. At the base of the neck is the glittering citrine stone that currently rests on mine. I turn back to Luma. His stare remains unchanged. Does he see her?

Chapter Text

He’s starting to grow into himself. Prince Boo, one day King Boo. I won’t forget how small he was on his first day of life. His tiny frame overflowed my arms as I held him. 

Some would say it was kindness that inspired King Eidolon to allow Boo to join this meeting. That man knew not a single moment of kindness his entire life. He’s posturing. Telling the Koopas that they are a learning opportunity. Establishing that their cursed prince means nothing while his own heir lives. As an heir, Eidolon couldn’t have crafted a better son. The same shiny white hair, same cold gray eyes. His jaw cut from the same stone. The only flaw is his stature. The king towers over other men while Boo looks up to them. He’s still young. There’s time to grow. 

The king didn’t see it the same way.

“Perhaps the Koopas forgot what they signed. Honestly, did you not read the treaty you agreed to?”

Condescending. The treaty would have never been signed without Queen Morel’s charm. The King’s pride would never admit it. One of the Koopa’s leaders protests. 

“That mine is my territory!-” 

Eidolon’s temper flares and he reaches to grab the paper before him. He gestures so adamantly at the document, it seems it might fall apart before them. 

“Perhaps, I can grant you autonomy. It would be for my own generosity. The treaty is clear.”

Smirking. Boo looks up to him regardless. You don’t have to behave like this my prince. 

“Daimao signed that treaty without any of our leaders' approval.”

The bang of the king's fists against the table silences their protests. 

“Daimao is dead!”

This simple truth reverberates through the hall. The cause, left unspoken, hangs over each of the Koopas’ heads like a dagger. 

“The next person to mention him is more than welcome to discuss the matter with him in the afterlife.”

Boo is unshaken by this outburst. There’s a familiarity that lives within the child. 

“Let us adjourn. I will send out a proclamation with my decision.”

The king is a commanding man. No one moves until he has left the room with Boo trailing.

I struggle to catch up. Damn these short legs. 

We pass a footman who gives a signal. We’ve been waiting for her arrival. 

“Prince Boo-”

He turns. His father continues along not noticing his son’s absence. 

“Rosalina has arrived from the Celestial Kingdom.”

His face shines for the first time all day. 

“Where is she?”

This giddiness is reserved only for her. 

“She’s just arriving now and settling into her chambers.”

We make our way to her room. A small reprieve in the chaos of the castle. The thing about being staff is you see all aspects of the royal family. The ugly included. 

Manifested by the thought of ugliness, Luma waits outside of the door.  

“Hello Prince Boo, the Queen is inside.” 

A stilted nod in acknowledgement goes unnoticed as Boo flies through the doors. 

I close the doors behind and in the gap between them I see Rosalina rest her hand on Boo's shoulder. He deserves the peace of young love.

“Isn’t it sweet? The queen has always been so fond of humans.” 

Luma winks, really he just lowers an eyelid. 

What is this creep even talking about? 

Chapter Text

The night is silent. The only sound in the gardens is our footsteps. Her’s are light contrasted with mine. Heavy and burdensome. I should stand up straighter. The way she moves, you’d think she was a dancer but three visits over 4 years have passed and she still flings me around the room. The sweat from our last battle lingers on my skin. 

“Rosa, why do you always walk alone at night?”

I’ve seen it before. The same path we’re taking now. She wanders down this trail most nights. How did she even find it? 

“It's just something I do.” 

A mystery. She knows everything about me. I hardly know anything about her. 

We meander down the path. The cobblestone leading us nowhere, anywhere, somewhere. She knows and maybe one day I will too. 

The silence embraces me. A peace from the hustle of my days. Disappointments, mine and others, they dissipate in the night air. Maybe this is why she walks. 

“Right here.” 

The spot she’s found is beautiful. A little alcove nestled with night blooming flowers. Their scent is strong but pleasant. Their blooms stand out against their greenery. Just like her against the darkness of night. The darkness of my days. 

“The fire flower constellation is only visible in the spring.”

She hands me a gold spyglass and gestures up to the sky. I put it to my eye and peer up. The vastness of the sky envelopes my vision. Rosa guides the spyglass until it's pointed towards our goal. There it is! 

Her hand rests on my shoulder. It feels nice.She quickly pulls it back. I glance back to see a pained look on her face. I don’t mention it. I don’t want to hear her disappointments. 

“People say stars predict the future, but they’re just astral bodies.”  

She says it earnestly. Such strange things, always spoken sincerely. 

“You’re so weird, Rosa.”

What more can I say? You’re so fascinating. You’re so clever. You’re so perfect. No word any man has even spoken can do her justice. 

The glint of her spyglass catches my eyes as she fidgets with it between her hands. 

“Does that make you ashamed to be seen with me? I know that your people think I’m corrupting their prince.” 

Ever earnest. A desperation builds between our eyes. 

“I’ve known you for so long. If you’re trying to corrupt me, you aren’t very good at it. 

“But earlier-”

I hold her hands in mine. She doesn’t look pained this time. I hope she can feel my sincerity this time.  

“It doesn’t matter. Those nobles are ignorant.”

Her head falls. It feels like abandonment. 

“They just fear those who are different.”

Calling the Lumas different is not entirely truthful. The castle often gossips about their uncanny movements and strange phrasing. There’s a charm in their unearthly presence. 

“My powers can be frightening.” 

Her tone is anything but frightening. I’ve wished for this intimacy since the moment I met her. She’s a performer, like me. We play our roles and bow for the applause. Here she is stripped bare of artifice. That scares me more than any power she could have. 

“I don’t fear the future, only today.” 

I reach to lift her chin. She cracks a smile. A beautiful smile. Wide and consuming. She rests her hand on my arm. 

“What about the past?”

Chapter Text

I hold in my hand a mushroom. It’s small with a red cap and white stem. There are big white spots ornamenting the cap. It smells horrible. Musky and dank, like a dungeon slipping into darkness. 

“Just like we practiced, your highness.”

Luma is right. I have practiced this ritual many times before but they were just that, practice. I know all the steps but this feels different. This room is different. It’s not like the library where I studied. Filled with sunlight and books and people. The stone walls make the air damp and the darkness reminds me that we are unground. There’s so much smoke. Scented and thick. No other people are allowed here. It is just Luma and I. 

Luma is a comfort certainly but his presence does not resolve all of my discomforts. He set all of this up. He lit the candles and incense. He arranged the sacraments. He’s here with me, always.

“Lumas, I’m scared.”

“I know, my Queen.”

He hasn’t used my name since we first met. Why would he? My name is attached to this body. This body vulnerable in the middle of this ritual stage. Bodies mean nothing to him. He knows me as my soul. My soul is his queen.

“You can do this. You know what will happen. We’ve prepared for all the possibilities.”

He’s right again. He’s always right. I have poured over this ritual. Taken it apart and examined its pieces. I’ve performed it before in my past lives. All my past lives have ended of course. Surely from other means. Luma spares me those details. 

“You’re right, I can do this. Thank you for being here.” 

He nods politely from the edge of the room. His movements are more fluid recently. I think he likes his current body. His consistency is a comfort. Even when I am different. Today I was told to take down my braids. As my hair falls across my face and down my back. It feels suffocating. I am wearing a loose cloak. I’m told it’s to be unrestricted by fashionable garments. The costume for the role I play. 

I bite down on the mushroom. The taste is foul. I’ve never actually tasted it before. A mixture of some kind of nut and dirt coats my tongue. I haven’t touched the dirt in months. The flavor reminds me of the Mushroom Kingdom. A small comfort.

The brief reprieve ends as I crash down to the floor. The stone is damp beneath my hands. Where is Luma? I raise my gaze and find him. He isn’t surprised. 

“What is happening Luma? I’m scared.”

The words come out as a bark as they slice against my throat. I’m locked in with his eyes. They’re green and always seem to shine but as darkness creeps in from the edges of my vision they seem to glow. Am I going insane? 

“Please don’t be afraid my Q-“

My senses are lost. I am no longer in the damp, smelly room. A new scene envelopes me. It’s the orphanage I grew up in. It’s aged from the last time I saw it. There are children, each in their bed, coughing. The same bed I used to lay my head now holds a child, no more than five. The cacophony is agonizing. The smell of blood overwhelms me. Their tiny hands clutch rags stained crimson. Am I able to move? I need to move. I must leave this room. 

I stagger myself from the floor. I’m running. No one reacts to my footsteps. I stumble downstairs into a dark familiar room. A living room I once played in. There is a gloom I’ve never felt before. It stinks of death. Two women with gaunt faces and sloped backs are mid conversation.

“The prince survives. He will be king.”

“Are you sure? The king and queen haven’t been dead a week. What if his condition overtakes him?”

Hushed whispers. 

“If he doesn’t survive, that cursed bastard might take the throne. He remains unaffected.”

“Let’s pray the plague takes us before that day.” 

Their laughter turns to fits of coughing. I have to leave this place. My head is spinning as I dart out of the door. The streets are filthy. Shrouded in the darkness of the night. Toads push covered carts. I don’t dare to imagine their contents. Up the hill sits the castle. Black draping adorns the towers. Beyond its silhouette, I see the constellation where my body endures this torture. 

I can’t stop running. How do I escape this hellscape? I have to get out of here. Please anyone get me out of here. 

The scene changes. I stumble and almost fall.

I am outside of Boo’s room. The conversation between the crones suggests that he will survive. Is he really ok? I push open the heavy door and see a shy guy hunched over his bed. His hands peek out of his sleeves and press a towel across Boo’s face. A toad stands next to him.

He’s safe. 

“You aren’t back to full health, your highness but you will survive this.”

Toadsworth looks pleased to deliver the news but Boo’s eyes are heavy. They’ve always been gray but they seem to have even less color than before. He is staring blankly at the door. I will him to see me. To find comfort in my presence. Please Boo. See me. I am here.

“There is the matter of your succession, sire.”

“My succession?”

His eyes lazily break their path and shift towards Toadsworth.

“We wanted to wait until you were well but we are running out of time. The king and queen passed four days ago and the courts are growing restless. You are the new king.”

The scene disappears. I have dissolved away. My body is no longer my own and what remains has tangled itself into a knot. I feel a coldness against my side. Where am I? I blink open my eyes and squint at the brightness of the candles to see Luma. He has not moved from his station. I sit up and pull my knees to my chest. My eyes are flooded with tears.

“Luma,-”

“Well done. I am proud of you.”

“-Luma, we have to close the borders.”

My tears overwhelm me. Luma kneels at my side and provides a handkerchief. He wraps his arms around me. His embrace is soft and graceful. We’ve never touched before. His skin is warm to the touch, almost hot. 

“We can discuss all of this later.”

Chapter Text

“Bowser can just be my heir.” 

Crack

“Come on. Not my face. People will talk.”

Brother smiles. Dad stomps out. They never smile at the same time.

“Let’s go find your mom.”

Boo wipes something red off his face. He grabs my hand but I don’t want to touch the red. My eyes are watering. I’m scared. 

We don’t even make it to the hall before mom throws open the door into the room and scoops me up. My tears fall all over her dress but she doesn’t care.

“Why do you have to antagonize him?”

Mom is yelling.

“I was just telling him the truth.” 

“How would you even know the truth? You’re a child.”

She lowers me down to the floor. I don’t have any tears left but she wipes my face anyway. 

“My baby.”

She sits at the table and I climb into her lap. She holds me again. 

She reaches across to touch Boo’s face where dad hit. 

“It’s time you grew up. What kind of king allows himself to be hit.”

She rocks slowly and I bury my face into her shoulder.

“You have to start attending parties and make some connections. A wife even.” 

She raises a finger to stop his words.

“I don’t care. I don’t care about whatever excuse you have.”

She waves one of the Toads over. He walks over with his red hat bouncing. I like the way their hats bounce. 

“You’ve gone long enough pretending to be a child. We are going to teach you how to behave tonight.”

The toad pours them two glasses of a pretty drink. It’s red and smells sweet. I reach for one of the glasses but mom pulls my hand away.

“Oh no my sweet. You’re not old enough yet.”

Chapter Text

The barrier between self and sensation is melting. Ego death. I didn’t wake up this morning. Only a collection of senses did. The smell, vinegar and sweat. The sight, foggy and unfocused. The sound, pounding and loud. The touch, wet and warm. The taste, acidic and sweet. 

Did you think you could marry Rosalina?

The queen's voice pushes through a memory. A conversation across a table. 

A royal romance won’t sway their neutrality.

I shake her from my mind. The thoughts churn inside my head. 

The prince who inherits the throne needs his queen.

Her grip chokes me. 

So many hands. All over me. I try to pull them from me but they aren’t there. 

Just have some drinks and a conversation

Someone hands me another glass. I dropped the last one.

Your mother speaks so highly of you.

A refrain of laughter. The demons along the river Styx cheering on my damnation. 

Show me around the castle

My fate, signed by another's hand.

Chapter Text

“I’ve never seen him drink like this.”

Luma doesn’t respond with anything other than a smile. He’s always smiling. How can he smile at a time like this? We came all this way to watch Boo drink himself to death. Every night, another party, another hopeful weasels him back to her room. 

Knock. Knock. Knock. 

Does he see me as another hopeful? After all this time. 

Luma is so sneaky. He slips out unnoticed by Boo as he enters. Is this his plan, a more permanent alliance? 

Boo is stumbling, two glasses in one hand, a bottle the other. The stench fills the room.  

I don’t stand to greet him. He’s too focused on where his next step will land to notice. He clumsily shifts a chair next to mine and plops his offerings on the table. 

“Rosa, I’m sorry we haven’t seen much of each other this time.”

His breath, thick with alcohol, carries the words across the diminishing space between us.

“I missed you. There’s just so much to do now. I’m getting older. I have more duties.”

Did duty bring you here now? 

He offers me a glass. His reach is unsteady. His eyes meet mine over the libation.

The same Boo I’ve always known. 

“Boo, what is going on with you?”

Instinctually, I reach up to touch his face. I shouldn’t. His past is his own. To intrude on this would be a betrayal. 

“Just tell me.”

His eyes moisten. Their focus is still on mine. The pause between us stretches longer than I can bear. 

I shouldn’t. 

What is a betrayal between monarchs? Are we not both demon and deity? 

I cup my hand against his cheek. Tears overflow his eyes and run across my hand. 

The scenes that flash before my eyes are chaotic and blurry. He’s not been sober for any of them. The same hands giving him drinks are grabbing his body. The protests stop the longer I watch but the unwillingness remains the same. The whole time, Queen Morel lurks. 

“Why didn’t they listen?”

The surprise causes me to recoil, breaking contact. He doesn’t know what I’m seeing. It must be always on his mind. He pulls my hand back to his face and nestles it against his cheek. 

“She didn’t hurt me.”

“She knew you were too drunk.”

His eyes widen and dart away. He stands, slipping against my fingertips. He takes a long swig from the bottle and shuffles towards the door. 

“You wouldn’t understand.”

He opens the door and leaves. Who knows when we will see each other again. 

Ever present, Luma enters through the same open door. Were his plans foiled?

“We need to leave in the morning.”

He looks surprised at my determination. I spend so much time deferring to his judgment. 

 “Of course, My Queen. I can set up an audience with the King first thing so that we can be on our way.”

“No.”

“We can warn them, maybe if they are able to quarantine -”

“No.”

I’ll be God today. Even if it takes a million lives, one of them is Morel. 

“Not everyone is meant to be saved. Close the borders, our kingdom will be safe”

“I trust you.”

When the next Oracle asks about this day, what will he say?

Chapter Text

Momma doesn’t look so good. They’ve let me stay in her room while she’s been sick so I’ve spent most of the time snuggled in her arms. She can’t get out of bed lately. She passes the time by telling me stories. I love her stories. 

“Bow, do you remember the badge that I keep in my desk? The black one with the scary red face?”

She imitates the face. Her faces aren’t as big as they used to be. 

“Yes, momma. The one that looks like this.” 

I stretch my mouth open and squint my eyes.

“Yes, exactly. Did I ever tell you where I got that badge?” 

“No.” 

I run my fingers through the ends of her hair. There are more tangles than usual. 

“I got it from a hero who was very big and strong just like you.” 

She boops my nose. I can’t stop a giggle from escaping.  

“He came from a far away land to meet with the King and I. He spent many years uniting all the villages in his kingdom. Before, they were all split apart and argued a lot but he went one by one and put them together.”

“Like a puzzle?”

“Just like a puzzle! The king was suspicious of him because he did things a little differently but he was able to convince the King that we should all be best friends.” 

She hasn’t smiled in days but now she has a huge one. 

“Even though he was a powerful warrior, he was sweet and gentle as well. Just like you. One day he even brought me flowers as a sign of our friendship. They were beautiful flowers. We were great friends from that day on.”

Momma sounds sleepy. Her words are getting slower and slower. She puts her head on my pillow. 

“Bow,”

She cradles my face in her hands. She runs her fingers over the scales that frame my forehead. 

“Yes, momma.”

She looks like she’s struggling to keep her eyes open.

“You are my baby.” 

She closes her eyes. She’s been sleeping a lot. I hope she wakes up soon. I want to hear more about the hero. I lay my head across her chest and wrap her arms around me. Usually I hear her heart but I don’t hear anything right now. 

“Momma?”

Toadsworth puts his hand on my shoulder and I lift my head to face him.

“Momma’s quiet.” 

He nods in response and scoops me into a hug. He pats my back and it feels nice. Momma never opens her eyes again.

Chapter Text

The medications they give me are horrible. I hear them scratching and clacking as they prepare it. I’d rather die than take another dose. 

If I died I’d never hear Rosa’s laugh again.

I down the potion. It’s sticky and thick. Tastes like poison and it lingers on my tongue. A small reprieve from my headaches is found in the cool towel the doctor lays across my forehead.

“You aren’t back to full health, your highness but you will survive this.”

Toadsworth looks pleased to deliver the news. My eyes are heavy. I thought I heard the door open. Was it just a hallucination caused by the garish mix of medication and fever? If only it would open and reveal Rosa. 

I hope that she’s safe. No one has brought me letters in weeks. Did she even bother to write?

“There is the matter of your succession, sire.”

“My succession?”

I muster my strength to read Toadsworth’s face. 

“We wanted to wait until you were well but we are running out of time. The king and queen passed four days ago and the courts are growing restless. You are the new king.”

Maybe I will die and leave it all to Bowser. 

My final rebellion against my father.

I could never give my mother such a gift. 

“Toadsworth, will you get me paper and a quill?”

Chapter Text

Every kingdom has opened their borders. There’s no reason to delay a visit. 

Yours sincerely,

Boo

I crumble the letter between my hands. I want to erase its words from my mind. 

“You don’t wish to see the King?”

Concern flashes across his face. It looks genuine compared to his usual caricatures. There’s a softness in his features I’ve never noticed before.

“It’s not that. How can I even stand before him knowing that so many in his kingdom died because of me.” 

My voice is filled with desperation. Nothing would settle my soul more than seeing him. I just can’t. 

“He doesn’t need to know.” 

Tears fall onto my lap. I can’t even lift my head to face Luma. He places a hand on my shoulder. When did we get so familiar?

“We were surprised. That you didn’t warn him.” 

His voice is soft and intimate. 

“Why?” 

I can’t bear to see the judgment on his face. Does he think I made a mistake?

“You’ve always favored humans. I assumed you wanted to save the species.”

His hand weighs heavy on my shoulder. What sort of god needs comfort?

“They’re hardly going extinct.”

I look up to him. Luma, tell me I’m right. I’m begging you. Save me from these consequences.

“You’re right!”

He removes his hand and returns to his usual pantomimes. There’s a melancholy in his gestures. 

“Populations grow and decline.”

He holds his hand up to the light, the same one that comforted me, observing it. The light catches a glint in his eye. He’s really a beautiful creature. 

“Perhaps I’ve stayed in this body too long. I’m growing sentimental.” 

Don’t say that. You’re my only family. 

He shuffles across the room and sticks his head outside. His mumbling is unintelligible, quick. After a few moments a voice responds. What are they saying? He returns inside and finds a seat and lowers himself into it. 

He’s abandoned the facade of disassociation with his limbs. He slowly unwraps the scarf from his neck. Unfastens the buttons of his jacket. His uniform of sorts. I’ve never seen him without it. He begins rolling up his sleeves. His exposed arms flex at this motion. His veins slightly protrude against his muscle. He lifts a glass of wine to his lips and stares into the fire blazing in front of us.

I shouldn’t stare. Did his oddness really prevent me from noticing his beauty before? I drown that thought with a sip from my own glass and face the fire. 

I don’t dare break the silence. I don’t want to confirm my suspicions. I cross my arms in equal measures of protest and protection. 

“Why do you have to change bodies?” 

The tension breaks. I can’t stand it any longer. I turn to him.

“This one makes me feel too much.” 

The light from the fire flickers across his features. He doesn’t break his concentration on it. He takes a long swig from his glass.

“I don’t understand.” 

Tears fall down my cheeks. I taste the salt on my lips. 

“Humans are very-“

He turns towards me. Our eyes connect.

-emotional creatures.”

His voice is frustrated. His eyes exasperated. 

“Does it hurt?” 

“Yes.” 

He’s never lied to me. We rest in each other's gaze. The room a vacuum where no more words can pass between us.

The door opens and a sheepish man enters accompanied by a priest. The man is slightly taller than Luma. A follower judging by his dress but not one I’ve seen before. His hair is angelic blonde and shaggy. His features are soft. He lowers his head as he enters. 

“It is an honor to offer this vessel to Luma Polari.” 

His voice interrupts the solitude shared between Luma and I. Luma snaps to attention and stands. His normal wide smile stretches across his cheeks. He and the priest make a moment of eye contact before Luma turns back to me and offers his hand to lift me from my seat. The follower continues.

“And for Oracle Rosalina to witness my departure.”

The priest begins arranging candles and salt to form a circle across the floor. Is my office truly the best place for such a ritual? Luma brings my hand to his lips. Why is this happening now?

“Good bye, my queen.” 

A whisper unnoticed by the others. He releases my hand and helps the priest with his preparations. I beckon the follower to me. 

“You are a devoted follower and will be a blessing to our nation.”

I hold his hands in my own. This is the role I must play. I wanted to be God and sacrifice is the price of my greed. A smile beams from his face. Does he know what happens next? Do I? 

The priest calls the follower over as the preparations are complete. Smoke begins filling the room from the incense. The follower removes his shirt and the priest begins transcribing a symbol on his bare back. It’s from the dusty book in his hands.  A crescent moon surrounded by fractal points emanating across the whole of his body. 

This is all so sudden. How were they able to secure a new vessel so quickly? How many times has Luma performed this rite? If my screaming could stop this I would with enough fury to fuel the stars for a thousand years. 

That is useless. The path that I’ve chosen, in this life and all my lives before, it is beyond human too. Luma is taking the easy way out. I don’t have the option to reject this body and free myself from these emotions. I have to conquer them. 

“Shall we begin?”

The priest has completed his markings. The altar has been set. I nod my approval. The priest rests his hand on the follower’s shoulder as he stands in the circle. A lamb to be slaughtered. 

The priest begins his incantation. Luma mouths it from his place at the edge of the room. 

By light of stars

And blood of moon 

Thyself, a vessel, is now attuned.

Luma locks his eyes to mine. We can stop this at any moment. Just tell me.

A white light shines out from his eyes and mouth now fixed into a scream. The followers do too. It’s too late.

Blessed tonight

By this rite

To give Luma Polaris a body anew

The symbol burns into the followers back with a blazing white flash of light. The former body of Luma clutches his hands to his head. 

“That’s better.” 

The new body of Luma cracks his neck to the side. Adjusting himself within its skin. The old body begins frantically pulling at his hair. 

“Will he be okay?” 

I contain the horror in my expression. 

“He’ll calm down. They always do.” 

The priest gathers the old body and escorts him from the room. His screams echo through the door and down the hall. Luma pulls his coat over his new shoulders. His movements remind me of the day we met. 

“Is something wrong?” 

My face betrayed me. 

“You’re so different.”

“Am I? Humans are so caught up on appearances.” 

He pulls on his own face. Calculating its dimensions. It seems more angler than it did before. His previously blue eyes now the familiar shade of green. 

“I asked them to bring a vessel that would be considered attractive by human standards.” 

It might be. I’ve seemed to have lost my discernment of physical beauty. The ritual took a piece of myself with it.

“Do you feel any different?”

I raise my hand to touch his face. My fingers make contact before he grabs my hand and lowers it. There’s a darkness in his eyes I’m certain wasn’t there before. 

“I feel like myself again-“

I cross my arms across my chest. 

“-that’s a good thing.” 

“Right.” 

This is the same Luma I’ve always known. He’s seen me through countless of these transitions. This is just my turn to accept the change. This is the inhumanity of ourselves. A God and her follower.

Chapter Text

A kid. A kinslayer. A King

All three are whispered as I walk through the halls of my castle. 

Mine. 

Count Bleck. My mother’s brother. 

As I sit to write to Rosa, the words escape me. We’ve said so much in our absence but how do I tell her what I’ve done?

The grief in his eyes

The count spoke as though he’d ever looked at me directly. My fathers funeral was inevitable. My entire life was spent preparing for the day. An old man. His young wife. Both gone. 

The crown needs stability. 

His regency would shatter that possibility. 

Can you rise to the challenge? The crown requires a king with strength.

He was my only challenge. The punishment for treason is death. He knew it. Now he knows nothing. 

What salvation is there for his soul? His life gone by only my word. Will he be waiting for me at the gates of hell? His arms wide open to welcome me to my eternity. 

I crumple the page between my palms. 

There is no use in relaying my sins to god.

Chapter Text

Today is my tenth birthday. It’s my fourth without a mother or father.

But I have a brother. 

My brother who always stinks. I never see him early in the morning. He says I’m not old enough to share his drinks but he doesn’t say much else.

I’m lonely. 

We are having a party but we always have parties. This one's for me. I got to sit next to my brother. 

He asks about my badge. I don’t tell him Momma gave it to me. He doesn’t like talking about her. Her kindness especially. I tell him I stole it from her desk. He liked that. 

I tell him the story. This came from a strong and brave warrior. A good man. That’s what I want to be. 

A good man. 

He shakes his head. 

“The Queen wasn’t friends with any good people.”

Looking around the room, he’s right. There aren’t any good people here. The room is loud and dark. It feels like the dungeons. Screaming, joy and fear sound the same at this volume.

They’re afraid of me. The cursed prince. It’s even more obvious when I’m with my brother. He looks like the King. White hair, grey eyes, slim build. He’s just short. 

I’m almost the same height already. With my horns, I’m taller. My coloring is different too. Red eyes, red hair. A little green around the edges of my face. 

Everyone sees it. 

Everyone fears me. 

Chapter Text

The stacks of letters piled up. If I had delayed a visit any further they would have toppled under their own weight. The flowers lining our path remind of the stacks. In number and color. It is a beautiful night to be here. 

“I didn’t want to be king. I had to. Otherwise it would go to some power hungry noble or distant relative.”

My companion rattles on. He doesn’t remember our last parting, does he? He’s never mentioned it in letters and we picked up right where we left off. Well, minus an evening.

“What about your brother?”

 “He’s a teenager.”

His eyes are focused on the path in front of him. He hasn’t had anything to drink since I’ve been here. He’s shakier than before. How long has it been since he took a break?

“He won’t always be.”

He didn’t have to live this life. I made that choice for him. Surely it’s better now than it was before. 

“Could you imagine the scandal? A cursed king!”

There’s already one on the throne. 

“They’d never accept it. I’d have to fake my own death.” 

He chuckles. I made the right choice. 

“You’d have to go into hiding.” 

“I could come stay with you. The Lumas can keep a secret.” 

Our steps slow to a stop and he turns to face me. He raises an eyebrow expectedly. Knowingly. Critically? I’m not sure. 

“You know you can’t. It would take years of worship before you would even be considered.”

“Rosa, I know. It's all just fantasy. I couldn’t give up my life here.”

He’s happy. He turns and we continue on our stroll. The wind is starting to pick up. It reminds me of home. It’s very cold there but still. Sometimes the loudness here makes me miss the stillness there. It’s predictable. 

“Rosa, you know, I’ve always wondered one thing about you.”

 “Your people, they aren’t scared of your visions like the people here are. I’ve never understood why people here don’t see it as useful. If you stayed here, you’d be a powerful asset.”

His words freeze me in my step. 

“It seems I must apologize. I haven’t been entirely honest.”

He stops. Have I not been careful enough in my letters? Has he sensed my involvement in his fate?

“I actually don’t see the future that often. Really only once. I am much weaker than previous oracles. My gifts are much more… tactile.”

He ponders for a moment and bypasses the latter half of my explanation.

“What was the premonition?”

I can’t answer that here, now. 

“It was too much. I’m never doing it again.”

We have to move on.

“My powers allow me to see the past of anyone. I just have to…”

I hover my hand above his shoulder.

“Touch them. Then I can see things they don’t want me to see.”

Don’t test me Boolerious. What is monarchy to divinity? I continue my threat.

“Their memories.”

Your memories

“My followers believe I’m an oracle of the future. The truth is, I only see their pasts. I have to lead in other ways.”

They come to me with all of these issues. Usually their problems are caused by their own hands. The consequences are easy to foresee. Thederelict angers his wife. The gambler loses his security. The prevaricator is abandoned. 

“I see.”

He doesn’t flinch. 

“It seems irresponsible. Your people look to you for guidance.”

He shrugs off his comment. He’s been a king for seven years, I’ve done this for fifteen. 

“I just can’t make another impossible choice.” 

“Sometimes a leader needs to make tough decisions.”

He pulls my hand to his cheek. Flashes of fury, the glint of steel, a vast nothing.

What have I done to him?

Chapter Text

“That’s the girl you write letters to, right?”

Boo looks up from his plate. We always sit next to each other at these state dinners but don’t have much to talk about. Today feels a little different. Boo is a little different. 

“Rosalina? Yes.”

We both steal a glance at our new guest. He hasn’t said much about her before but he’s always scribbling away. 

“She’s awfully pretty.”

She is probably the most beautiful girl I’ve seen. She almost sparkles, like the stars. 

“I suppose.” 

He’s smiling at his plate. He doesn’t smile very much. 

 “You smile a lot more than usual when she’s around. Not like your other friends.” 

The smile fades. Did I mess up? I never know what to say. 

“Other friends?”

He raises an eyebrow. I’ve gone too far, too familiar. 

“The ones you kiss at parties.” 

I’m nervous. I can’t control my words. 

“What are you getting at? Spit it out.” 

A little anger in his voice. 

“Well, is she the reason you aren’t getting married?”

I sound so stupid. I’m falling over my words. 

“Life isn’t like your silly books. There’s no forbidden maiden. I just don’t see any reason to marry.”

He continues eating. I can save this. I can change the subject.

“I hope I can find someone to marry someday.”

I’d be lucky to find a woman as pretty as Rosalina willing to marry me. 

“Well you have a lot of growing up to do first.”

He’s right. 

“Actually, why don’t you join me for the council meeting in a couple of days. With the Koopas. You’re the crowned prince after all. It’s probably about time you learn what that means.”

 I passed the test.

Chapter Text

We left the ball early. The whispers of common blood and cult leadership were killing the evening. Those hellhounds can’t even behave for a single evening. 

I was nervous. I drank too much. The gloom overtook me. We spend the walk to my chambers in idle chit chat. 

“Ignore them, they don’t know how to behave.” 

I stumble. She doesn’t. She’s always so much more composed than I am. 

“I know humans are like that.” 

She is human. She pulls me into her side so that I can walk upright. How have I ended up like this again?

“You know I could tell when you were having premonitions?”

I’m still wobbling as she props me up. 

“I just hoped they were good.”

“I’m sorry, Boo.”

“No, I'm sorry. That couldn’t have been enjoyable for you.” 

“It never is.” 

She’s miserable. I hate that she’s seeing me like this. I’m more sober than I’ve ever been and I ruin it in a single night. I’m as weak as I seem. A jester in my own court. 

We make it to my chambers and collapse on the couch. My soul heaves. It's not the way it used to be. We were so different the last time we saw each other. I would give anything to turn back time. 

That’s impossible. The only thing that is, is now. The two of us splayed on a couch. I’m sure I stink. I’m sure she doesn't. This person, the only person that knows everything about me, was she ready to see it in the flesh? Was I ready to show her?

“Let’s get you to bed.”

A mercy, and a threat. 

“Oh.”

I shift and drop my glass. It tumbles to the ground. Its contents ooze onto the floor, soaking the carpet.

I know what comes next. I lean into her and press my lips to hers. Softly. This is different. We are different now. Have we strayed even further apart? There’s a stillness in the room. A moment that was meant to exist. 

“What are you doing?”

She pulls away.

“Was this not what you wanted?”

“Not like this.”

Not like this. 

A mercy. A moment at the wrong time. 

She is divine. 

With all of her powers, and her kingdom in the heavens, does she know God?

I’d meant to ask her to thank him, because if she’s made in his image I could really start believing.

Chapter Text

Not like this.

He wouldn’t have done that if he knew. I’ve been deceiving him. Is this my fate? I’m forced to reach the peak only to have the bolder slip back down the hill. My punishment for betraying death for so long. 

I’ve watched the stars tick across the sky from his window all night, unable to stop the sun from rising. The passing dawn mocks my impotence. 

He’s stirring now. The sun has been up for a few hours. Luma would have noticed I didn’t return to my quarters by now. He must be pleased. 

“I didn’t expect you to be here.”

He’s shading his eyes against the light pouring across his bed with his hand. His eyes are narrowed. His clothes are matted with sweat and his hair sticks out at odd angles from his head. I grant him the only privacy I can at this moment and turn back to the window. 

“I was worried.”

A toad out in the garden catches my eye. Fluttering about his work, his world is the same as it was yesterday. I wish this room could have remained the same. 

“I drank too much, at least that’s what my body is telling me. I really don’t remember much.” 

The toad moves from the roses to the myrtles. A few bees hover around the fragrances. The air must be pleasant there. I don’t know how to respond. 

“I’ve been having weird dreams lately. There’s an older version of me, it's strange.” 

“That’s a symbol of self discovery.”

He doesn’t hesitate. He’s clever, even in this state. He must be grateful for the subject change.

“Really?”

He shakes his head. Some of his hair falls back into place. 

“She always tries to bring me somewhere. I’m not sure where.”

Another toad joins the first. They bicker for a moment and leave together. The bees stay at their work. 

“I hope it’s here.”

I must face this, before the boulder falls again and crushes me beneath it. 

“Boo-”

His eyes are hopeful. I wring my hands in my lap. The bees continue, unaware the world is changing. 

“The vision I mentioned before-”

There’s sadness in his eyes now, maybe just reflecting my own.

“I knew about the plague.”

 The bees persist.

Chapter Text

She may be the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen. She kind of almost floats when she moves through a room. It makes sense why Boo smiles more when she's around. Maybe one day she will be around more often. 

“Thank you for entertaining us.” 

He just looks straight ahead and nods. Why is he being such a bitch? I would kill to have a woman like that even look at me. 

I’m standing close enough. I could smack him. 

Her face drops, her eyes are getting glossy. For a moment her smile fades before picking back up. She won't give up without a fight.

“You won’t even stand to stay goodbye to your guests?”

Finally he stands.

“A guard will escort you out. Safe travels.”

He gestures out the door leaving his arm outstretched. She reaches for it. He pulls his arm away. Can I offer mine instead? A tear rolls down her cheek. He doesn’t notice. 

“Don’t forget to write.”

He’s going to follow her, right?

“I won’t” 

With that, the room empties. Boo takes his seat again. What the fuck?

“Why didn’t you follow her? I can’t believe you.”

Maybe a little too forceful but he has to know what a moron he’s being. 

“I’m a busy man.”

Does it take so much time to warm the throne? I can’t believe this. 

“Are you kidding me? She’s your-”

“My political ally.” 

He’s so much smaller than me. I could kill him. There’s no reason to be so obtuse. 

“That is true, but you two are-”

He might be the one to kill me. Who knows at this point?

“Well, I thought you-”

“You’re better at wielding than thinking, you know.”

That’s it! I’m going to kill him. He doesn’t even care. He’s a devil on a shining throne. Unbothered. He stands and dusts himself off. Moves to leave me to my embarrassment. Won’t even bear witness to the rage he inspires. Just like with Rosalina. He makes it to the threshold and pauses. 

“She knew about the plague.” 

With that he retreats to his solitude.

Chapter Text

The lumas have told me it takes billions of years for a star to die. It feels like I’ve seen the death and rebirth of our entire galaxy over the past 10 years. 

He wrote. Just as he promised. It feels like there are more letters cluttering my office than stars strewn across the sky. He kept his promise but not a single one contains an invitation. No matter how I’ve explained the situation, he doesn’t understand. The letters are polite but empty. There’s too much left unsaid. 

Luma interrupts my train of thought by tapping my shoulder. How many of his billions of years are left? How many of mine? 

“There’s only so much that humans can understand.” 

Regards,

King Boolerious 

I put his latest letter down. He’s signed like this since our last visit. I look up like Luma. He still looks so stiff. He’s not as comfortable in this body yet. 

“Why don’t you relax? You were so much more comfortable in the last one.”

“If I meld, I don’t know that I’d reincarnate like you. You always had powers I lacked.” 

That’s what I don’t understand. Why did the first version of me want to be human so desperately? To risk all of herself for misery? He continues.

“I told you not to, for the record.” 

“If I knew what I know now, I doubt I would have.” 

“You wanted to live like one, so you died as one.”

“But I was reborn.”

“And I’ve found you every time.”

“All the humans do is hurt each other.”

“I’m not sure that’s all they do.”

We’ve hit such a familiar rhythm. I twirl my fingers around the edge of my telescope. It rocks with the motion. A small peek. 

“That’s not all they do.”

He takes his leave. He’s known me for millennia. I’ve only known him for this lifetime. He knows what’s needed, privacy for this indulgence. 

I lift the spyglass to my eye.

A ball. The same as every other intrusion. Truly the most wealthy on the planet. Their planet. I should renegotiate the terms of our trade. Mostly the same cast of characters. The usual legion. 

A young blonde girl and her ginger companion. Maybe sixteen. The ginger girl eyes Bowser from across the room. Sweet Bowser. I hope his brother treats him well. No sign of Boo, King Boolerious.

The blonde girl is fussing with her dress. She seems anxious, flustered. The ginger girl tried to calm her. Oh, the poor thing just spilled her glass all over herself. She runs out of one door while Bowser exits through another. 

I lower the spyglass and flip through the letters piled on my desk.

Regards,

Flip 

King

Flip 

Boolerious

Flip

So much has remained the same and yet everything has changed. Who is Boolerious?

I peer once more through my spyglass.

The blonde girl is making her way through the halls and runs into, ah, there he is. Is he Boolerious or Boo? King or Man. 

The girl is grinning wide. He’s polite in return. They part ways without much event. He makes his way to the ballroom and quickly grabs a drink.

Boo, man or king is little matter. He is and will remain drunk.

Chapter Text

Twenty years. 

Twenty years, a King. 

The mirror before me shows the years far more than anything else. The world has remained steady but have I? 

Each day, the same. A letter in, a letter out. 

Truly,

Rosa

Would she recognize me? The lines on my face have deepened. How has she aged? 

Bowser has questions. How would she respond? 

I rest my head in my hands. I run my thumb against the cold metal of my crown. Staring at my eyes in the mirror. It’s a cruel fate that we both wear our curses on our heads. No hiding from them. At least I can remove mine.

And I do. It clatters to the floor. 

The world has changed. There’s far fewer humans. Left over nobles able to consolidate their wealth through inheritance. It’s mostly toads now. And Bowser. And me. I can barely breathe but Bowser is strong. 

Inhuman, more than human.

He wants to know about the curse, how to lift it. He cites the tropes from his books: a beautiful woman’s kiss, slaying a dragon, a mother’s love.

His mother’s love.

That got him into trouble in the first place. 

He’s proven himself worthy of the crown. He commands a strong military. He’s well read. He’s not drunk. 

But he’s angry. 

At me. At the situation. At the not knowing. 

I don’t blame him. 

I’m angry at him. 

For letting his desire to satiate his curiosity distract himself. If I die, he takes the crown and not one person would let him have it as a Koopa. He’ll have a hard enough time as a cursed king, he’d be a dead king if they knew. 

The dead king has a nice ring to it.

Chapter Text

hy does she have to pull so tightly? The strings can only do so much. I brace myself for the tugs. This room should reflect my rank. I am a princess. It is small and dark and barren. 

This is my father’s fault. A weak man that bends to the will of his wife. He’s sold off all the land we can afford to lose. I’m just the next property for sale. 

“Relax your face, my sweet”

Toadette shifts her gaze in the corner of the room. She sees it too. My mother has always called me that. Her sweet. What she really means is her tool. I’m just here to serve her. She raised me well enough. I had the best of everything. At least the best we could afford. 

She planted seeds for her own salvation in me and it was time for her harvest.

“We wouldn’t want any wrinkles on that pretty face.”

Disgusting. Every part of me is hers.

“This is what we’ve been waiting for. Finally an invitation to the King’s ball.”

The invitation sitting on my dressing table could sink to the center of the earth with its weight. I haven’t touched it for fear its edges would cut me to pieces. It is dangerous and it is my only way to survive. 

“20 years without a Queen. They’ve been waiting for you. Finally, you’re old enough to attend his parties. This is our chance.” 

A final tug and she wraps her hands around my waist and rests her head over my shoulder. This should feel nice. Basking in the glow of a mother’s love. 

“You look beautiful, my sweet. It reminds me of being young.”

We hold this moment. The same blue eyes framed with thick lashes. A gentle sweep of cheekbones contrasted by the sharp angle of our jawline. Even our hair, blonde with rolling waves. It makes me sick. It reminds me even my face is not my own.  Her eyes are transfixed on herself as she runs her hand across my cheek summoning hellfire on my skin. 

“You are still a great beauty, my queen.”

Toadette saves me my response. She is my only solace from this torture. I meet her lovely pink eyes. Thank you. A wink confirms her loyalty. 

“If only my beauty could save our kingdom. Peach, you will have to be that beauty.”

A familiar refrain. I know, Mother. You’ve told me this every chance you’ve had. 

“I’m happy to have this opportunity.”

I am. Not for her sake or even my kingdoms. For mine. If I can claim this role, my body will be my own. A king may possess parts of me certainly but as long as I fulfill my duties in producing an heir, my life will be my own. I have to do this. I have to escape.

She kneels in front of me fiddling with the decorations on my dress. 

“Toadette, don’t you agree this dress is a much better pick than the gaudy mess we decided against.”

Toadette please. Don’t betray me. She knows how much I loved my dress. I worked with the tailor to pick the fabric, a beautiful embroidered pink pattern similar to fine China. It reminded me of the settings we used when our kingdom still hosted parties. 

Mother hated it. She wanted a smooth satin. She said the other fabric distracted from my beauty. I’m wearing her satin. Mother dressed me herself. 

My dress lays in a heap on the floor. 

“Of course, your majesty. Your taste is impeccable.”

Toadette truly is remarkable. I should have known to never doubt her. This pleases mother. The corner of her lips twist into a smile. I hate that smile and how much it reminds me of my own.

“You must not forget, my sweet. This night can change our lives. I wish I could join you in this but I know you’re ready. Any matter, you will have Toadette for anything you need.”

“Of course, your highness”

“I wish you’d call me mother.”

I would rather eat my own foot. I’ve never been a daughter and I’ve never had a mother. 

“I will leave you to finish collecting your things. Please be safe in your journey my sweet. I look forward to your return.” 

She’s leaving. Not even a single glance back as she moves through the door. She couldn’t even be bothered to see me off properly. From here on out it’s Toadette and I. 

“Are you ready to leave princess?” 

I run my eyes up and down the mirror. Should I?

“I need to change first.”

I see her expression change in the reflection. The joy sparking from her eyes is palpable. She loves me and I love her. She is my family. 

“Of course!” 

“Wait, I have something to give you.”

I should have thought of this sooner. Years ago my mother purchased a relic from the shy guys and their black market. A small hat in the shape of a crown with a soft pink insert in the center. She got it just in case her only daughter didn’t inherit her features. A critical component for carrying out her plot. I’ve kept it stuffed in the bottom drawer of my desk. I hated the idea that I might need to be fixed but I couldn’t rid myself of the opportunity should I need it. So it stayed hidden there for years. 

Frankly Toads are plain as a species but Toadette has always loved beauty. In the way an artist does. She doesn’t seek to possess it but to create it. She wants to witness and be beauty rather than contain it.

“Toadette, I got this from my mother. The shy guys created so the wearer could shapeshift, within reason. You are lovely in my eyes already but I know you want to be different. You deserve to be whoever you want.”

Her eyes well with tears but her duty prevents her expression from changing too much. 

“Speak freely my friend.”

It’s more of an urge than a command. My sister can speak to me. Please sister. 

“I don’t know what to say. Toads all look like this.”

“But you are special. You can choose. You can be what you want. I want you to reflect how beautiful you are inside.” 

She hesitates but we know what beauty affords you in this world. 

“This is your choice. Please know that I don’t wish you to change, I only want to offer you the chance to be exactly as you’d like.” 

“Thank you.”

Our fingers meet against the cold metal. She accepts and raises it to her head.

Her features change subtly. Her hair sprouts long in the same soft pink shade. A smattering of freckles dash across her nose and cheeks. Her eyes retain their shade but the shape molds to familiarity. My eyes. Yes Toadette I would happily share my eyes with you. Sisters share features after all. 

“Is this okay?”

“I love it. It’s just how I always imagined you.” 

We embrace. She’s warm. My little sister. 

“Let’s get you dressed princess.”

Chapter Text

I’m only here because Boo insisted. 

It’s my twentieth coronation ceremony. 

Just say your hellos, then you can leave.

It will look like an act of treason if you aren’t there. 

Dramatic little bastard. 

The endless announcements of the nobles, filing in to sing his praises. He doesn’t even notice unless they are willing to play a different sort of tune. I have to sit here alone through all of it. None of these people want to speak to the cursed prince. Just a harlequin on a throne. 

Decent people watching though. 

From up here I can see the ebbs and flows of the party. The hunters singling in on their prey. They move through the crowd inching closer to the mark. Many of the women have the same prize in mind. 

The 20 year king. 

The flitter about, primping and preening for their moment. The moment their lives could change. They all think they are the future queen. A fool's errand. Boo would sooner die than take a wife. 

There’s a persistent one. A small blonde, bobbing around the outskirts of his throng. Even from the back, her dress is a little dated, the pattern a little too bold. She hasn’t been here before. She raises her hand to catch his attention. She lowers it when it doesn’t work. He’s too wrapped up in the latest victor, well, victors. 

She turns. 

I’d read about moments like these, where the world stops and your heartbeat deafens you but I thought that was just a fiction. An author’s way of making the intangible, tangible. I never knew it would be so literal. 

She turns.

The world stops.

My heartbeat pounds. 

She must be a witch. She cast a spell surely. One crafted just for me. Her hair must smell like brimstone and cinnamon. It falls gently across her cheeks. I want to reach out and brush it aside. Her lips must taste like sin and salvation. They part and realign into a pout. I want to pull them into mine. Her voice must be deep and melodic. She calls her companion’s name. I want her to say mine.

Her eyes meet mine.

The world shatters.

My heart stops. 

My feet don’t. As if by their own will, they move towards her. Their thump kicks my heart back into beat. One step, then another. Lumbering like a thundering oaf. My body feels too big for the space I inhabit. 

She’s found her companion. A small red headed woman. I shouldn’t interrupt their conversation but the red head nudges her.

She turns.

Her eyes meet mine.

She smiles.

“Are you alone too?”

A bewitching smile. 

“I’m Peach.”

She offers her hand to me. It hangs in the air a moment too long before I regain my senses. I bring it to my lips and muster a smile in return. Her companion disappears into the crowd. 

Her eyes linger on mine before darting up to my horns and back again for just an instance.

“I thought you’d be more fearsome.”

“They always do.”

I’ve never considered my voice before. Does it please her?

“What a pleasure to meet you, Prince Bowser.”

Another smile flashes across her face. 

“Let’s make the most of this night. Who knows when we might meet again.”

She grabs my hand and drags me towards the pairs of nobles crowding the dance floor. One benefit of my reputation is that they make room. Not many dare to linger too close. Peach is unphased. She positions one of my hands on her waist and holds the other in hers. 

Who is that with Prince Bowser?

She’s a brave one. 

What a strange choice.

The rest of the world rematerializes. I feel the heat of a room of eyes. Their judgement is sound. There’s no reason for such a woman to be here with me. 

She lifts herself on the balls of her feet so her face is nearly touching mine. It takes every ounce of self control I’ve ever had to not kiss her. 

“I see no reason to be afraid.”

“Are you sure about that?”

That is all the confidence I’ve ever needed. 

15 years of dance training means nothing in this instance. I should have paid closer attention but the toads didn’t prepare me for this level of distraction. Between the beautiful woman and the conversation, I'm lucky to not fall directly on my ass. 

The conversation flows, the night wanes. It’s time to depart. This can’t be the end.

“There’s so much in the Kingdom I could show you.”

“Is that so?”

“If you’d like, I’d love you to stay.”

Chapter Text

I’ve memorized these stones. The same path. Every day. It’s all so monotonous.

Boring. 

Every morning. After breakfast. 

A dull walk through the most beautiful part of our grounds. 

There’s something new. The princess of a small dusty kingdom sits on a bench. She’s been at our meals for the past few weeks. Bowser is courting her. He’s excited. He’s a fool. 

She’s absorbed in some needle work. Why is she here?

“Good morning Princess.”

I’ve startled her. She is quite lovely. Bowser could do much worse. 

“Good morning, your highness.” 

Let’s see where this goes.

“May I?”

She slides over to make room on the bench. 

She chatters beside me, smiling the whole time. I’m counting leaves on the vines that cover the walls. 

One

You all have so many options of tea at breakfast. I can hardly decide. 

Two

The weather is so nice here, it hasn’t rained once during my visit.

Three

I think Bowser and I are going down to town today to look around.

Four

My mother thanks you for allowing me to stay.

Five

The library here is quite-

“Are you really not scared of Bowser?”

Her smile slips and her eyes narrow. The real Peach. She smiles again. 

“Are you lonely?”

She sets her needlepoint in her lap and folds her hands over it, covering the partially executed pomegranate. I shift to face her. She has a formidable presence I’ve never seen before. Up until now she’s been kind and soft. 

Something new.  

“When everyone started pushing you to marry, it must have felt like you were so alone.”

She continued. 

“Don’t worry. A woman like you can handle Bowser just fine.” 

A reminder of why she’s here. 

“Have you ever felt love, the pure kind?”

She leans forward a bit and grabs my arm. Is she intruding into my mind too? I remove it. 

“The kind we all dream of.”

The same smile spreads across her lips. Her eyes flutter down in performative modesty. 

“Use that smile. Lie to him, not me. A prince pays the same dowry as a king.” 

“And a prince can still make a queen.”

Something new.

Chapter Text

“Are you sure you want to marry Bowser?”

Daisy hands me back the letter.

I accept your proposal. 

Forever yours,

Peach

“Anything to get out of here.”

I gesture to the summation of my existence until this point. My father has sold a few more things while I was away. It’s even more barren now. Daisy doesn’t understand. Her kingdom is different. Her family is supportive. 

She’s too stable to be made uncomfortable by silence. Her pause holds accusations. I have to be the one to break it.

“He might be King someday, then I’ll be Queen.”

“Isn’t he a cursed brute?”

Our mothers are sisters. Hers chose better than mine. It’s hard to take offense at any question she asks. She wants what’s best for me. To her that’s what she has, the ability to marry for love. 

“No, he’s actually very sweet.” 

“Do you think he loves you?”

I wish I lived in the world as she sees it. Beautiful maidens courted by handsome princes, wooed to eternal happiness. It’s a pleasant world. 

“I do.”

The sound of ceramic clatters interrupts us. Toadette with our tea. She knows me better than I know myself. Just on time. 

“And more importantly, I think I can finally have a life.” 

She can’t understand that. Her whole life has been her own. She can do as she pleases and what pleases her pleases those around her. I don’t explain further. She’s heard it all before and tries to understand. 

The worst part of a struggle is how no one cares once you’ve overcome it. There’s a loneliness with it. No matter how far removed you make yourself, it defines you but you must behave as though it never existed.

“You should follow your heart.”

My heart doesn’t yearn for Bowser, that’s true. I don’t remember the first time I saw him or anything like that. His face isn’t what pops into my mind during idle moments. He is charming in his own way. 

But I remember Boo. 

“Your parents only want to feed off your success. You have to make the decision for yourself.”

“Bowser is my choice.” 

He’s not my first choice, but he is the best one I have.

She smirks into her tea cup and takes a long sip. Her eyes focus in on mine. 

“Do you think you can forget Boo?” 

She sits back and blows her red bangs out of her face. That and the freckles splattered across her face are lovely. Gifts from her father. 

Can I forget my dreams? That’s what she’s asking. Ever since I was a child, I wanted Boo. I met him once before, a few years ago. I thought I’d lost my mind. Daisy met Bowser that night too. She thought he was cute. 

“Toadette, can you take this to be sent to the castle.”

Chapter Text

Why are there so many fucking bees? 

At least the roses are blooming. Does Peach like roses? I’ll find out her favorite flower and plant as many as she wants. I reach out to pluck a rose from its stem and a sharp sting emanates from my finger tip. The thorn. I stuff my finger in my mouth to stop the bleeding. 

I turn around to see Boo. He looks disappointed again. 

“I heard that Peach accepted your proposal.”

I remove my finger and wipe it on my jacket.

“Yeah, she loves me.”

He’s incredulous. The most emotive he’s been in a while. 

“No, she hardly knows you.” 

“Then why would I marry her?”

He doesn’t know anything about love. He’s just some cynical creep that haunts the castle looking for his next distraction. I’d love to hear his rationale.

“I thought you wanted to get married. Women marry royals for many reasons, rarely is that reason love.” 

 I clench my fist. I feel the warmth of my blood on my palm. 

“So I should just stay alone like you?”

I’m loud. I mean to be loud. 

He bridges the gap between us and rests his hand on my shoulder. 

“You’re not marrying her for love. That doesn't mean she’ll never love you.”

I put my hand on his shoulder. Our eyes are locked on one another's. Mine start welling with tears. I lower my forehead to his and hope he doesn’t notice. Maybe a beautiful woman wants to marry me. Maybe a beautiful woman wants to be free. Maybe it doesn’t matter. 

Boo pulls me into a hug and my head rests on his shoulder. I sob but he doesn’t mention it. 

“Do you want this?”

Chapter Text

This is enough. I wake up in a room filled to the brim with luxury. These sheets are much softer than my own. Even Toadette looks happier here. The long hair she chose suits her.   We will want for nothing. Surely this should be enough. 

My mother raised me for this day and she won’t even attend. Her letter reminded me I was to marry the king and that she will only attend that ceremony. Is a crown prince not enough? 

Bowser is enough. Enough to keep me from my old life at least. He is a certain kind of glamour. If you can look past the horns and scales he’s truly pleasant looking. 

“Toadette”

Her head turns distinguishing her from the many toads preparing for this momentous day.

“Today is a very good day.”

“Yes, Peach. Today is a very good day indeed.” 

I choose to believe her. There’s a level of hesitation in her voice that is practical. Today is the day that I marry the cursed prince. Who wouldn’t have hesitations? Well, I don’t. This is the life I have worked for. 

“Let us begin.”

At my command Toadette begins brushing my hair. 

“One of the Toads brought breakfast earlier.”

She gestures to the table. It is quite the spread. Something my kingdom could never afford for a guest. I am more than a guest at this point and this is a very good day. 

“You deserve this Peach. I know that it’s not what we imagined.” 

“It is certainly not.”

“It is still a good day. You will be a princess by nightfall.” 

“I was already a princess.”

“Of course! But a proper one here. Your poor father couldn’t find his way out of a paper bag with two openings.” 

I love her candor. She has finished styling my hair and helps me into my gown. 

“Miss, today is a very good day.” 

“A very good day.” 

“I will leave you for a moment. You must get to the cathedral by noon. Please don’t be late.” 

She glances back at me as she closes the door. 

She worries for me too much. Is this what maternal love feels like? I’ve never really felt that. Or any love really. Surely I will grow to love Bowser. 

I examine my features in the mirror. This is the face that secured my position. I am grateful for it. I am grateful for the face that can fool a man towards love. Not just any man, the crown prince. Not the king, but enough. I lower my veil over that face. 

I’m on time to the chapel. I know better than to risk this ceremony over a few minutes delay. Bowser is waiting for me at the altar. This is a very good day. 

My dress feels heavy moving down the aisle. A weight like chainmail. The lace catches a metallic glean in the sunlight. Each step a mile, more weight added. By the time I reach the end I am Atlas, carrying the world. Bowser reaches under my veil to lift it. I can see his hands trembling. Is this a weight you can bear my betrothed?

“I do.”

“I do.”

As I look into Bowser's eyes, the rest of the ceremony is a blur. I am drowning in the redness of them. It’s like lava that burns me. I can not look away. I must take the heat. His brother stands behind him. I must not look. 

He leans down and presses his lips against mine. It is quick. I reach up and take hold of his face. We kiss again. Longer. 

“I will be true to you.” 

A whisper just for him. I catch sight of Boo from the corner of my eye. He hears. Today is a very good day.

Chapter Text

She is beautiful and she is mine. I’ve never had someone be mine. There’s never really even been a chance to possess a person in any form before. My brother is a brother barely. My mother is a mother lost. My friends are non-existent. The only possession I truly have is my curse but here is a person that is mine. My wife. My ship, finally docking. 

She must be scared. We were rushed to our room after the ceremony. With Boo refusing a wife, the castle is preoccupied with an heir. A lineage. A lineage that excludes me. Who knows how long a cursed prince lives anyway?

But I’m not ready for that. I want Peach to remain my wife for as long as possible. She can be someone’s mother later. I asked Boo for ways around that, how we can consummate without the risk. His methods are vulgar and crass. 

“Your highness.” 

She breaks the silence. She is standing at the foot of the bed. Waiting. How long was I sitting on this couch staring at her imagining what happens next? She’s changed out of her wedding dress into a sleeping gown. Though the design doesn’t seem suitable for sleeping.

“Yes, my wife.”

She smiles. 

“Your highness, I have a question before we begin.” 

“Go ahead.” 

“The scales on your face, are they anywhere else?”

“They are.” 

She giggles at this and I blush. Somehow in my imaginings I had forgotten that aspect of this exchange. This will be an unexpected night for her. I beckon for her to sit with me. 

“Please don’t worry princess. I would like to get to know you better before you discover the topography of my skin.” 

She glides over. She is my muse. She is my air. She is my light and she is sitting right next to me.

“I think I know you quite well, my prince.” 

Her prince.

“I know that you are kind and gentle. I know that you prefer reading to parties. I know that it must have been lonely growing up without your mother. I know that I am the luckiest woman in this castle because while those noble women are satisfied snickering in the halls, I get to sit here and witness your beauty.” 

No one has called me beautiful before. She sees me in a way I yearned for and never dreamed I could have. 

“I love you Peach.” 

I don’t allow her to respond. I push my lips against hers and return the kiss she gave me at the altar. I know it would be foolish to expect her to love me so soon and I won’t allow her to lie to me. She kisses me back. That is enough. One day she may love me. 

We are melting into each other. This is different from what Boo explained. He described a mechanical exchange of strokes and pokes and thrusts. This is warm and comfortable. Her lips are like waves meeting the beach. Our breathing in tune. My hands find their way around her body. Each spot softer than the last. 

I scoop her weight onto my lap and she wraps her legs around my waist in response. I have to get her to the bed. My entire life has stretched to this moment. Every whisper behind my back  made way for the secrets we will share. Every laugh at my expense melts into her giggles. Every moment of solitude broken by her presence. 

I stand and she nods in agreement. At her whim I would carry her to hell and back. We fall to the bed and her fingers find the buttons of my shirt. 

“Not yet.” 

She looks confused until I slide my hand between her legs. Her lips part and a small moan slips between them. 

“Oh”

With that acknowledgment I continue. My fingers fumbling but I find reassurance in her moans. I find a rhythm she enjoys and don’t stop. She is beautiful. The faces she makes. The way her hips flex in tandem to my motions. If I could consume this moment I would die of gluttony. 

I have to taste her. I bury myself between her thighs. I could drown here. Call me a sailor for I would happily die at sea. She’s salty. A taste I will never forget and always need. I move my tongue against her and she yelps.

“Are you okay?”

No response. She just pushes my head back into place and wraps my hair between her fingers. Her hips are pulsing against my face. We are moving faster and faster until she tenses and releases. Her voice could be mistaken for a chorus of angels. I lay beside her and wrap her in my arms. She kisses me deeply.

“This is enough.” 

Her satisfaction is my satisfaction. She buries her head on my chest. I run my fingers through her hair until the sound of her snores lull me to sleep.

Chapter Text

These same damned eggs. 

“Toadsworth, is there nothing better than this? Please.” 

I push the plate across the table. I’m being a brat. Toadsworth brings that out of me. While my father was cruel and menacing, Toadsworth coddled me endlessly.

“Yes, sire.” 

He removes the plate and pats my shoulder knowingly. What is there to know? I am delighted that finally there will be an heir that doesn’t involve my participation. Even if they will be half bast-. Half-cursed. 

The problem is Peach. She can’t get my attention and chases down Bowser the first chance she gets. She acts like an angel. She’s lying. Why does such an angel want an empire? 

I swirl my coffee in its cup. Black, like the night sky. He can’t see that she’s no different than the other nobles vying for my bed. She’s just like my mother. Mother was good to him. A cursed prince may be good enough for them both.

Toadsworth returns with a fresh plate. It doesn’t matter what’s on it. I’ve lost my appetite. 

“Toadsworth, why wasn’t she here?”

Chapter Text

It’s been nearly a month of Peach. 27 days of her waking up in my bed. Finding blonde hairs on my pillows. Hearing her voice echo through the halls. A few weeks of bliss.

We’re spending our 28th evening in our chambers. Me with my book. Her with her needle point. A beautiful stem of pink-purple flowers sequenced up its length. Each flower shaped like the finger of a glove. Idle chit chat fills the room. Conversation is easy with Peach. 

“He was young when our parents died. He tried his best but he had just inherited the throne. He didn’t have the capacity for a grieving child. I was raised mostly by staff, like most royal children.”

“But they seem so scared of you.” 

“Most were.”

“You never really scared me.”

“You’re just very brave, my love.”

“My family just raised me to marry Boo.”

“Luckily, I met you first.”

“Both of our luck.”

“Boo actually made me come out that night. It was kind of fate, if you believe in that.” 

“We make our own fate, mostly. Why don’t you come out with me?”

“You’ve seen the parties and how drunk Boo gets. It’s not fun to be around all those nobles while he’s completely gone.”

“I’ll be there.”

“I’m just afraid they’ll never see me as more than a monster.” 

“You’re so much more than that.”

“I don’t see why I need the approval of strangers that hate me.” 

“One day you may be a king. If you behave like you’re meant to reign-”

“Don’t blame me.”

She doesn’t flinch. She just continues moving her needle through the fabric. She meant nothing to it. Why am I acting like this?

“Look, there’s a guy, a captain of one of my battalions, he doesn’t listen. He talks back. He’s going off protocol. How would I handle that, if I were meant to reign?”

“Is he married?”

“Yes?”

“I’ll handle it.”

She ties off the thread she was working with and sets her materials down. She glides over and kisses my forehead, holding my face in her hands. She nods towards the bed. 

28 nights of Peach.

Chapter Text

“Everyone wants me to be so in love, just because he loves me. I just met him two months ago.”

Daisy, please understand me. It’s her first visit since the wedding. 

“I’ve seen some pretty convincing kisses for an arranged marriage.” 

She thinks she’s being cheeky. 

“I’m a person, Daisy. It seems like the only people here that understand that are Bowser and Boo.” 

I’m a little flustered during this conversation. Not loud but tense. She knows me well enough to pick up on it, hopefully. I don’t want her to think I’m blaming her.

“Maybe it’s my mother. Maybe she trained me so thoroughly to only see Boo that I can’t see Bowser.” 

“He seems kind to you.” 

He is kind. He’s also reactive. He’s generous. He’s also combative. He’s handsome. He also has giant horns growing out of his fucking head. 

“He is. I have the freedom to do and be as I please around him.” 

“You can be happy Peach.” 

Happiness. That was never my goal. It isn’t even a concept I’m sure I understand. What is happiness if I don’t have a plan? Is happiness idling the days with a handsome companion, horns and all?

I think for her it is. I don’t think I can be that sort of happy.

For her it is easy to be kind, she has always been safe. My status, my life, has always been in danger. You do what you need to survive. Never once have I been able to consider what would make me happy. 

There is one thing.

“Daisy, can I ask you something?”

“Yes, Peach.”

She raises one eyebrow and tilts her head to the side.

“Aren’t men supposed to remove their clothes to behave as married people do?”

Chapter Text

I haven’t passed through these doors since the night that I met Peach. One of the best nights of my life. She promised that tonight would be just as wonderful. It has to be, tonight I’m entering with her slender hand nestled in mine. Looking down at her and seeing her smile back up gives me all the strength I need. 

“Presenting his royal highness Prince Bowser and Princess Peach.”

Why do we give that job to the loudest fucking Toad in all of the Mushroom Kingdom? My face feels hot with the attention of a thousand eyes. Each of them pierces me like a dart, except two. Hers. She’s leading the way, through the sea of voyeurs. 

“Don’t worry, I’m here with you.” 

Can she feel the perspiration on my palm? 

“I think I see Boo up near the front.” 

She told me of this plan. I’m supposed to go to these parties. I’m supposed to spend time in the public eye with Boo. It’ll make me a better king. I don’t want to be a king. I just want to be hers.

“Good evening, your majesty.” 

A polite bow shared between them. I’m glad they get along. 

“You look well. How did you get Bow here tonight?”

I’m right here you twat. His wild gestures spill his glass speckling the floor with red wine. The party hasn’t even been going for an hour. How is he already so drunk?

“My lovely bride insisted that getting to know the nobles would help me succeed to the throne.” 

“What a wise sister I have. Surely you can make some headway in the 50 or so years you have left.” 

He has a charisma I lack. 

“Wouldn’t we all be blessed to have a brother like you for 50 more years.” 

Peach is the blessing. She’s more connected to Boo in 2 months than I am in 20 years. I can’t remember the last time he’s called me brother. I can’t help but view their smiles bittersweetly. My nerves tense. Neither of them have had a real sibling before. A noble man interjects, locking his fingers in Boo’s.

“You’re correct. We would all be blessed for 50 more years of King Boo. May he have a long and fertile reign.”

With that interruption we’ve lost him to noble ladies and gentlemen for the night. The one who made the declaration is a favorite of his. His evening should be pleasant. 

Peach is unfazed. She’s always poised, unbothered by anything that unfolds before her. Well almost anything. I’m becoming well versed in the things that fluster her. She’s standing there so sweetly. I wrap my arms around her and rest my head on her shoulder, my lips nearly touching the skin of her neck.

“Are you sure we can’t just go back to our rooms?”

“There are some ladies I’d like to introduce you to first.”

She grabs my hand in hers and leads me back into the crowd. Did mother ever lead father this way? My memories of them have always been sparse and fade more everyday. She is my only reference for family now so I am happy to follow her lead. I can accept that she’s also showing Boo what family is.

We arrive at a gaggle of gaudy noble women. Some I’ve seen before. How many of them have cowered from my sight before Peach? Their idle chatter tells me they’re well acquainted. She really is the best thing at this. A light in this cabal of sin.

“Now Peach, I do have one question we have all been wondering.” 

A woman clutching Peaches hands in hers diverts from the mundane conversations about the weather and new dresses. She releases one hand and reaches it towards my horns.

“Do the horns interfere with kissing?”

God be damned before this demon touches me. I grab her hand hold in my own. Surely she can feel the scales on my hands. I didn’t mean for this to happen. I didn’t want anyone to know that texture.  

“My lady, I can assure you the only effect they have is one of enhancement.” 

Peach reaches out and replaces the lady's hand in mine with her own. The woman collects her hands together, reassuring herself they are both still attached. 

“Aren’t you a brave one?”

And with a small smile, she turns to rejoin her group. Peach is angry. I can’t look at her directly but I can tell from the tension in her fist. The only part of this party worth staying for is gone. I only came here to see her smile. I have to get out of here. I release her hand and rush through the doors that began this misfortune. 

I make it into the privacy of an abandoned hallway before the clack of shoes catch up to me.  Please don’t be Boo. Please don’t let him have heard about this already. I’m not ready to be scolded again. My face is hot and my throat is dry. Frustration pulsing through my veins. A hand lands on my shoulder.

A small and tender hand. It is the hand of my love. My love, who is here for me.

“Do you care to explain that outburst?”

My love is angry. She made me do this and now she is angry that I did not perform for her. I can’t face her.

“You expect me to take such comments in stride. You should have let me spend my evening in peace.”

I don’t blame her. She set this up for me. So that when Boo finally drinks himself to death I won’t have to struggle for the throne. 

I don’t care.

“I expect you to have more control over yourself. I don’t expect you to go around frightening every pig faced noblewoman with an uncomfortable opinion.” 

“I wasn’t trying to scare her. I was just trying to stop her.”

I can hear how pathetic my voice sounds. This isn’t the man I was meant to be. My heart is beating faster. I feel the blood rising in my chest. 

“If I was trying to scare her I would have”

I end the sentence facing her. Her wrists in my hands pressed against the wall behind us. What am I doing? Is this who I am? Her mouth is still pursed into a small line. She’s disappointed. 

“Your highness, release me.” 

I loosen my grip on her wrist and she slides them free. My hands are now firmly pressed against the wall on either side of her face. That beautiful face. I try to slow my breath which is spilling out in great heaves. I’m smothering her. I feel it. My presence looms large over her. She must be frightened. Even still she lifts her hands to either side of my face. 

“This will not happen again.” 

She looks up at me. I can’t meet her eyes. 

“Yes, my love.”

I am pathetic. A dog in need of training. 

“Now if you will excuse me, I will be returning to the party to try to correct this mess.” 

I watch her stroll down the hall. Unmoved by what happened. Always poised. 

As she turns the corner, I sink against the wall. I can’t be this man. I hug my knees to my chest and remember the stories my mother used to tell me about her friend, the noble hero. He was strong and knew military strategy just like me. He also had a soft side that forgave the people who hurt him. He had a discernment for fairness and righteousness. Why can’t I be that man?

The sound of another pair of shoes interrupts my self pity.

“Get up. You call yourself a future king while you cry on the floor.” 

I rise to my feet and look down to see Boo’s eyes. The gray of his irises contrasted with the redness on his cheeks made him look jolly in contrast to his biting tone. 

“You call yourself King while you look up at me.” 

He cracks a smile followed by a laugh. He grabs my arm in his. He’s never done this before. 

“Maybe that curse of yours blessed you in ways my genes could not. Neither my father nor mother were particularly tall.” 

He continues. 

“Peach told me what happened. The lady is a bitch certainly but you have to control yourself. People will talk and you already have too many eyes on you.” 

“I apologize that Peach saw it fit to interrupt your conquests for this petty incident.”

“Not a concern, I’ve explored those lands many times before.”

Why does he joke like this? I hate seeing him so drunk.

“She also told me of your outburst out here. I’m growing fond of Peach, in the way I’d imagine an annoying sibling would grow on someone. I have to insist that you only treat her so roughly in the privacy of your bedchambers. Understood?” 

“Yes. I understand.” 

“Fantastic. Now please may I continue my party without further  interruption?” 

I can only muster a grunt. My embarrassment is two fold. My guilt clings to my back through the halls back to my rooms. I collapse on my bed and read the grooves of the ceiling. The writing spells out two facts. Boo will never take me seriously if I can’t control myself and Boo and Peach have found family in one another that I can never provide to either of them.

Chapter Text

The mood of the evening has been ruined. Bowser is a sniveling fool. I can’t wrap my mind around how he expects to lead like this. My feet lead me down a familiar path. A right where I would turn left to return the party. Then a left and down the long hallway. Through the doors and into the garden. This has been my solace many nights before but tonight it feels even more lonely. It’s been quiet since the last time I took this walk with Rosalina. It’s been a while, I should enjoy the silence by now. 

The wind is crisp tonight. Sobering. If I had not been so drunk that night what could have been? Nothing. Her kingdom barely agreed to our friendship and she killed off half of mine. She’s a villain gilded in moral subjectivism. 

I feel her eyes on me sometimes. Tonight I feel their absence. I lift my gaze to peer into the night and find her constellations. They beacon me. Not that that damned cult would ever allow me refuge. I hold my hand between my face and her galaxy and close my fist around it. Gone. They’re all gone. 

“What are you doing, your grace?”

A small singsong voice interrupts my solitude. Her hand reaches onto my shoulder. I quickly stuff my hands back into my pockets, storing Rosa inside. Peach never misses an opportunity to remind me of my station. 

“I saw a firefly, princess.” 

She peeks around. Surely she sees there are none but she won’t question me.

“May I join you?”

I don’t have any reason to say no. These walks are better with company anyway.  I offer my arm and she slides hers into the crook. We aren’t so different in size and it fits nicely. Rosa stooped a little when we walked. Does she struggle to hold Bowser’s arm? She provides her signature chatter.

“I’d never walk alone after dark.” 

She’s right. The Mushroom Kingdom is much safer than places like New Donk City but nowhere is without its evils. There are reasons she wouldn’t understand

“It’s just something that I do.” 

“But someone could break your neck.”

She runs her fingers across the back of my neck illustrating her point. I offered a smile in reassurance.

“And I’d never see them coming up behind me.”

If only someone would come and end this suffering. 

I don’t mean that. Why did I think that? What is this level of melancholy in the air tonight? I have to break the tension.

“Peach, you know Bowser would never harm you, right?” 

“I know your majesty. I pushed him too far. I just know that when you leave us, the world will be harsh to him.” 

Our footsteps ring through the night air. She is gentle with her words but her face betrays her. Behind her stoicism I see her fear. 

“His position is difficult. The military requires finesse to quell uprisings. In some ways I’m envious of his abilities.” 

“He told me that you were sick during the plague. The one that took your parents.” 

She takes advantage of my kindness, escalating to familiarity. 

“I was. I never fully recovered.”

“Well, you are still a delight to behold.” 

I never doubted my features. My parents were a lovely pair and blessed me with their best attributes. 

“As are you.” 

She is. There are parts of her that remind me of Rosalina. On more than one occasion out of the corner of my eye I could have sworn she was in fact Rosalina. Why does she haunt my thoughts like this? My melancholy overtakes me.

“I think I have this thing where I need everyone to think I’m the tenacious, Tyrant King Boo. If the nobles aren’t completely knocked out, dazzled, and sort of intimidated by me. Then I worry it may all fall apart.” 

Why am I telling her this? Is it the wine or is it that the air tonight reminds me of her? The words keep spilling from my mouth.

“Men, like Bowser, traditionally like to court danger and wield swords. But I have to outsmart my opponents.” 

At some point our steps have stopped progressing down the path. We are lingering. An alcove speckled by night blooming flowers. They are wide and fragrant. Did I stop or did she?

“I think at the end of the day, I’m just-“

“I know.” 

She interrupts. Her hands join mine. Her eyes steal my gaze. She sees me. 

“We’re manipulators” 

She plucks the thought from my lips. Her statement is true and reminds me of why she’s here tonight. I take my hands back and hide them in my pockets. Where I’ve kept Rosalina. Peach is not Rosalina. Rosa was true and kind. Until she wasn’t. Was Rosa manipulating me the whole time?

We return to our path back to the castle, hands at our sides. Each step laying a brick back to my defenses.

Chapter Text

Another invitation.

I hope that you will make it.

Sincerely,

Boo

After all this time, he sends two invitations in the space of a season. 

What if I were to attend? What then?

I rotate my spyglass between my hands. There’s a river that runs through the countryside in the Mushroom Kingdom. I can’t remember the name. Zola… Zuma… Zore… It doesn’t matter. The river is eased by a dam. It's a marvel of a structure. White marble with copper decorations. They’ve long since faded to green. There is a smattering of clay, where cracks have been repaired. How often do the toads flitter about, shoring the dam? What happens when it fails?

Where will the river flow?

My resolve breaks. I lift the apparatus to my eye. An omniscient being scrying for answers. 

Boo sits at a table. The room is dark, only the fire blazing. Two empty bottles litter the surface. A letter in his hands. 

He leans into his chair and closes his eyes. He slowly crumples the paper between his hands. A final act of betrayal, he tosses the ball into the fire. The flame reflects in his eyes for a moment. They widen. He hurriedly reaches into the flame to retrieve the ball of arson and ash. Not acknowledging the burn growing on his fingers. 

It's too late. The words are gone. 

He smooths the remaining fragment against the floor. Huddled above it, desperate to undo this deed. He pounds his fist against the carpet, now stained with smolders. Once the inevitability sinks in, he falls to his side and traces the charred edges of the paper. 

Regretfully so,

Rosalina

Chapter Text

He won’t speak to me. I hover around him in the crowded room. I chirp into the crowd so that he can hear my song. I pose myself, angle my face so the light scatters across my cheeks. I make myself a sacrificial lamb for his consumption. 

His eyes burn me, the flame extinguished before I can catch it. Does my gaze burn in return? We’ve traded glances like shots, never hitting our targets. 

There’s a sadness in knowing you’ve done something you’d be better not to. There’s been no sin and therefore no guilt but my soul aches the same. I’ve attached my soul to Boo’s. It’s pinned with anticipation. The inhale before a breath. 

I set expectations for tonight that will never happen. A salve for my unrest. Tonight he will call me to him. My desire and reality reconciled.   

His shame is the barrier between them. His shame lowers his head. It blocks my voice from reaching his ears. It will allow him to live the rest of his life without me. 

For what? His shame grows from nothing. We’ve given it no dirt to root or manure to consume. Nothing shameful has happened between us.

But my desires can’t warp reality so far. Our shame is in the pull we feel to one another. One damned soul to another, ready to fling ourselves into oblivion. That’s the danger of this shame. That pull is drawing me to damnation. My role is undefined, my place insecure. Any action is a risk. I can not proceed without security. 

A glance.

A touch. 

A drink in hand from mine to his. 

“Have we become enemies?”

He’s startled that I’ve broken our pact. 

“Of course not. Why do you think that?”

”You’ve not spoken a single word to me all day.” 

“You are certainly no enemy of mine.”

I want to sip poison from his lips. If I die at his hands at least I felt their warmth. 

“Well, if that’s the case, I expect that you won’t continue to treat me this way.”

He gestures to the seat next to his. I take it. 

My expectations have ruined the experience. 

The possibilities of our lives coalesce before me. A glittering stone, each facet a future. Ones in which we’ve never met, others where we’ve known each other always. My favorite possibility, the topmost facet. 

One where we enjoy quiet nights sitting in an open window. It overlooks the distant kingdom. A secret. Smoke dissipates into the night as we pass a cigarette between our lips. We discuss our favorite poems between puffs. 

I want to lay amongst the flowers

An eternal ovation to the the sun

Never knowing their eternity is but a moment 

This isn’t a reality I will ever live but I keep it alive in my heart. Fueled by the way his eyes avoid mine. The tension in his voice. The tapping of his fingers.

I affect him. 

“Why are you alone tonight?”

Chapter Text

I’ve followed her here. Through the doors to my chambers. I set my crown on my desk. I never wear it in this room. 

The same lines every hopeful prima donna recites. 

“The party was too loud. I want to continue our conversation.”

I like the wine she’s brought with us. My favorite in fact. As she leans down to hand me my glass I see that she’s poured mine heavier. She settles on the couch near me, enough room for plausible deniability. She is like me.

“Princess, I was only stating that we are similar. We truly are insufferable snobs. Even worse, we are clever.” 

“Our mothers raised us to be just clever enough to carry out their plans. We were blessed to be clever enough to overcome them.” 

She takes a sip that appears bigger than it is. I follow her direction.

“Maybe manipulation is genetic.”

She does not react.

“Maybe it’s in our blood and natural. Or maybe it’s so we survive. We need to control our situations. Me as king. You as king fucker.” 

This wine is excellent. I am smart enough to know I’m nothing to her dead. She wouldn’t have tampered with it. My long sip excuses me from explaining further. 

“I am your brother’s wife. So that is hardly my role.”

She doesn’t mean it, she’s already moved closer. She leans in with a whisper.

“At least as long as you’re alive.”

She laughs. Her laugh is beautiful. It’s familiar. It sounds like twinkling stars. She ends her laugh with a hand on my leg. I meet her eyes. Blue. I wonder what she would call my eyes. She removes her hand to feign modesty.

“I’ve survived worse than you Peach. I am the tyrant king as they say.”

“Surely you will survive me too then.”

She smiles. A beautiful smile. Trained to perfection. My glass is empty. Hers is not.

“Here let me pour you some more.” 

She reaches across me. Her eyes again.  She sees me. In that moment I would die for her. 

She’s lingered for too long. Her hands never reaching their goal. She knows the lines. I’ll play my role. I touch the side of her face and pull her mouth to mine. Her eyes close before we meet.

The tension is broken. The tension is the best part. The moment before. The possibility of intimacy before the facade falls away. It’s my favorite part, the just before. But the before is over and we are in the now. She pulls away. 

“We can’t. Bowser.” 

Her head lands on my chest. The last line before the intermission. She doesn’t mean this either. She looks up at me. 

Did she move or did I? I’ll never know for sure. The script continues. Her kisses are deep but the connection is shallow. I could be any king and it would mean the same. She would mount any other king just the same. 

I’m glad to be the king here and now. She pushes our chests together. I pull her legs over mine. My arms land around her waist.

“Your beauty is the worst thing about you.”

“Then let me show you the best.”

She doesn’t miss a beat. She is clever. That is the best part of her but we both know that’s not the offer at hand. She adjusts her skirts and the third act begins. 

This is a performance for her. One I’ve attended before. The curve of her breast and the warmth of her body are exceptional without question but I’ve seen this play many times before and I’m weary of its players. Where is she looking? Just above my shoulder. Towards the desk. Meet my gaze. The curve where her neck meets chin draws me in. Her movements are awkward, lacking rhythm. Wild and unsure of their purpose. Has she been cast in this role before? Surely. 

“Does this please his highness?”

“Of course princess. You are without flaw”

Her eyes. She’s found mine. It’s true, they are exceptionally blue. An other-worldly sort of blue. They remind me of a galaxy. 

Keep looking at me. See me.

I lead her hips with my hands. I’ll direct the show now, princess. She hasn’t changed her gaze. She sees me. My brother’s wife. No, my ingenue. Her breath has changed. Her chest heaves at my command. I can’t look away. She doesn’t either.  She takes her final bow. It’s my turn to give a standing ovation.

I can’t wait for an encore.

Chapter Text

My offering is meager. I fiddle the petals between my thumb and forefinger gently. Three flowers, each with six points. Red and spotted, edged with white. An apology. A reminder of beauty. A declaration of hope.

“Do you think it’s enough?”

Boo’s not listening. The darkness under his eyes is more prominent today, partially obscured by his hand as he chews on the nail of his index finger. He grunts affirmatively. I slouch onto his couch, setting the bouquet aside. 

“You were so paranoid, she really is perfect for me.” 

“yeah…”

“Look, she was kind to me and saw me when no one else would.”

His eyes flick to mine before sliding back to the abyss. I rest my head in my palms. It’s true that she is kind. It's true that she sees me. I wish she saw a little less. Less of my rough spots, the anger, the isolation, the fear. 

I see her. Her magnetism with everyone she meets. Her grace in social settings, even the challenging ones. Her laughter. But I see more. The secret side kept between us. Her persistence with upholding appearances. Her heartbreak over her lineage. Her dreary days. 

I study my brother's jaw as he moves on to his middle finger. It pulses with the bites. His gaze focused on the Nothing. I see this too. He slides between the worlds he’s crafted in his head.

Is this the end point of love? A desire to know, fulfilled. Comfort in the cracks that form in your perception. Being able to hold a person’s feats and flaws together in one vessel. A fragile vase at that. Teetering atop its pedestal. You have to hold it. It needs protection. My hands feel insufficient to brace it, like a single flinch could send it careening to its destruction. 

Boo’s stronger than me in some ways, weaker in others. Is he strong enough to feel this way about another person? 

Chapter Text

Bowser hasn’t attended a party with me since the holiday party and this place has a party at least three times a week. Boo has created a sort of bacchanalian time loop where every night contains another round of debauchery. Bow suggested recently it’s to cover up just how often he’s drinking. He just doesn’t like to drink alone. Neither do I. He’s up on his throne at the front of the room. 

“Good evening, your highness” 

Maybe we are past these formalities but he is weak to flattery. He enjoys being king, more he enjoys being above, in control. I have to edge through the crowd of adoring fans even now. 

“Good evening, princess.” 

He takes my hand in his and lightly kisses it, his eyes rising to meet mine. People can see. Please understand the position you’ve put me in. I can’t look away from his gaze. The storm behind his eyes reflected in their hue is captivating. I could stand here for hours. 

“Sit with me.”

He releases me from his spell by tugging my hips toward his lap. His hands are gentle on me. Lightning on my skin. 

“Sire, not here.”

A hushed whisper between only us. Thankfully everyone is too drunk to notice our familiarity. 

“Fine.” 

Slurred. His furrowed brow signals his dissatisfactions. He ponders a moment. 

“Follow me.” 

I do. He grabs my hand. A thunder in my chest. But the eyes that would see around us. I pat his hands and place mine together in front of me.

“Not here, sire.” 

He shrugs sloppily but marches through the crowd nonetheless. I follow as quickly as I can. He doesn’t slow to accommodate my stride until we’ve made it through the door to the gardens. 

“Now, we are alone.” 

He grabs my head and pushes our mouths together. The tension in my soul breaks and joy floods my bones. 

“I told Bowser to be gentle with you. Has he been?” 

“Yes, sire.” 

“Good. I won’t be.”

He grabs my hand and we rush down the path of the garden only stopping when we reach a small nook. It’s dark and private. The only witnesses are the white flowers that line the edges. I’ve noticed them before. They smell like fresh dew and honeysuckle. 

“Come here.” 

He turns to me. He’s a little taller than me but feels massive in his intensity. His eyes pierce me. He pulls me into his embrace and we kiss again. Longer, deeper. I run my fingers through his hair pulling him into me. I feel the metal edge of his crown. 

He pulls back and roughly casts it to the ground. The metal clanks against the stone like far away thunder. He holds my face in his hands connecting our eye lines before pulling my mouth to his. 

His hands move purposefully around my body. Down my neck. Across my chest. Along my back. Each movement filled with static like the air before lightning strikes. 

“Are you ready?” 

I nod in response. He scoops me up and I wrap my legs around his waist. With some adjustments he pushes himself inside of me. I feel the coldness of the stone wall behind me. I stare into his eyes as they narrow. He’s pleased with me. I’m pleased with you too Boo. 

“You’re so beautiful.” 

His words hang like clouds signaling a storm in the distance. The sensation of his movements build. Like summer rain. A light sprinkle turns into a steady rain turns into a downpour. Finally a monsoon sweeps my body. 

In the afterglow, we walk back to the castle. Boo adjusting his crown back atop his head. Our footsteps in tune, his a few paces ahead. In this serenity, I see Boo for what he is. 

“I’ve spent my whole life thinking you were this great man and I’ve trying to be just like you but the truth is-“

He looks over his shoulder. The moonlight illuminates his jaw. 

“That I’m not that great of a man, and you’re exactly like me.” 

“Am I evil?”

“Worse, you’re smart.” 

We return silently to the castle. He turns back to the party and I to my bed chambers. 

Bowser lays on the bed, brow furrowed in concentration. He and Boo do favor one another in their expressions. I could learn to feel the same way about Bowser as I do Boo. His red eyes flicker towards me and his expression softens. He pats the bed beside him and sets his book aside. I climb in and rest on his broad shoulders. 

“How was the party?”

“It was lovely, I’m not sure you would have enjoyed it though.” 

Not technically a lie.

“You’re probably right about that.” 

He absentmindedly fiddles with my hair. I stop the swirling patterns my hands are making across his chest to loosen the button on his shirt. He presses my hand down to resist my advance. 

“Not yet, my love.”

His love.

Chapter Text

Her scent lingers on my skin. Her taste on my lips. The blue of her eyes imprinted on my memory.

Yet she wakes up in his bed while mine is barren. The silk of my pillows would surely support the weight of her head just as well. His hands were always open to receive a woman’s love while it slips through my fingers like sand. Falling, counting down my demise. 

I can’t condemn him as a cursed prince while he is so blessed. Morel, favored him so. Peach likely does too. My worth to them is identical, security for their egos. 

Can she sense my desperation? She feels it in my fingertips as they memorize her figure. She hears it in the revelations I’ve shared with her. She smells it in my breath given to her in our embrace. She tastes it on my skin exposed and bare before her. She sees it in my eyes, only met by hers. 

May the canopy of my bed provide a shroud from the peering eyes of God. May she not see my moments of grief. 

Does she even bother to look? 

The glint of my crown catches my attention. It looms large in my vision.

I’m a fool to believe her. 

A blessed fool.

Chapter Text

‘Marriage takes compromise.’

Daisy’s words echo in my mind. What does she know? I’ve met her two, no three times and she thinks she understands Peach and I. Her words are still ringing in my ears. I’ve been pacing so long I fear I’ve left a track on the floors of my bed chambers. 

I catch myself in the mirror. Is this the man who leads the largest empire's military? Is this the man who could dare to be king? I press my forehead against the cold glass, adjusting for my horns. These damn horns. My pointed finger meets the glass. The reflection emphasizes the mountains and valleys of my scales. Pathetic like always Bowser. You let your wife face the world alone rather than be ridiculed by some droll spoiled cunts. 

The glass shatters beneath my fist. The cracks in the glass distort my already grotesque face. Pathetic and a monster. 

—-

The door to the banquet hall is foreboding yet it yields to me. It was not the obstacle, my own will betrayed me. 

The room is loud, filled with uproarious laughter. The lighting dim, hiding the indignities of those held within its walls. Where is Peach? A few minutes of searching leave me lost. 

There’s that woman who asked about my horns before. My only ally in this quest. 

“My lady, where is the princess?” 

“I haven’t seen her tonight. Let me ask.”

She locks her arm in mine and turns to her nest of vipers. They’ve been watching our conversation through the corner of their eyes. Desperate to capture my monstrosity. 

“Has anyone seen Peach?”

“Not tonight.” 

“She was around here earlier.” 

“She shared a dance with me about an hour ago.” 

One lady peeks through the group, a smirk sits beneath her mask. Her silence guarding a foreboding truth. 

“She’s with King Boo. They left about half an hour ago. Up to the west wing.”   

Why are they laughing at this revelation? A punchline aimed at me. My face gathers heat and I thank the darkness for its discretion. 

“Thank you ladies, I hope to see you soon.” 

I cover my lie with a bow. I hope to never see them again until hell finally wretches open its jaws to consume us all. 

“You can call on me later, my Lord. I’ve been desperate to discover if the size of your horns reflect-“

Her eyes scan me head to toe and her grasp on me tightens.

“All of your gifts.” 

Disgusting. What else could be expected from a regular of these functions? I pull her hand from my arm and hold it in mine. 

“One day. My wife would be devastated if she were not included in the exhibition.”

Forgive me Peach. Hopefully the lady is too drunk to remember this very empty promise. She seems satisfied with that response and returns giggling to her company.  

The only thing in the West Wing are the King’s chambers. I can find refuge there. That version of the evening seems much more pleasant. An evening with my wife and brother. 

It’s quiet on the other side of the doors. Maybe they’ve already returned to the party. A quick check before I have to gather my strength to re-enter the hell’s-mouth. The doors creak as they turn announcing  presence to the room. 

They’ve definitely been here. 

Wine bottles littering the floor. 

Boo’s Crown flung onto the desk. 

Glasses spilled their contents on the table. 

Peach’s dress betrays me from the floor. 

I can’t look up any further. I want to turn and return to the other side of the door before this moment. Every moment before this was bliss compared to the insurmountable suffering splayed out and  stretched into eternity.

Movement forces my sight upward. Peaches arms wrapped across Boo’s bare back. Her eyes peeking over his shoulder. His jaw turned to me obscuring the rest of her face. Her beautiful face. 

I am locked into Peach’s eyes. Blue and bloodshot. Filling with tears. Time syncopates before me. 

Slow. Boo rolls off of Peach exposing her state of undress. He stands to redress himself. Peach adjusts her corset to cover herself.

Fast. Boo flings his jacket over his shoulder and retrieves his crown. 

Beat. Boo leaves the room, bumping my shoulder as he exits.

Beat. Peach flings herself on to me and grabs at my collar. I recoil at her touch. 

“Bowser, please don’t leave me”

I can barely understand her between her sobs and the thump of my heart beat.

“Is this where you’ve been going at night?” 

“Please believe me. I wanted it to stop. It only happened a couple of times. I tried to resist. You know my mother’s pressures. I promise it is over it will never happen again-“

Her words spill from her mouth furiously mirroring the state of the room. Disheveled and guilty. The ringing in my ears drowns them out. 

“Please Bowser. I lov-“

“Don’t.”

Chapter Text

The chair beneath me, the only support in my whole body. Without it I would surely sink into oblivion. The chasm between us is toxic. Death breathes into it. The only bridge between us are his eyes connected to mine. He folds a half written document and tucks it into his breast pocket. He sips from a glass but doesn’t set it down. 

“Why are you here?” 

My mouth desiccates at the thought of beginning this conversation. Will it be our last?

“Please listen. I love Bowser-“

A scoff. His eyes shift and return to mine.

“-I do. But if he won’t forgive me, we should get married.” 

“Impossible.”

“If we just explained that we’re in love-“

“You want me to lie to him further?”

“But I thought-“

“You thought that these moments were me courting you?”

With his words, the chasm envelopes me. The light behind his eyes flickers. 

“I was using you and remember this princess, we are very much the same.” 

“I wasn’t-” 

My protest is weak. I have to strengthen my resolve. I narrow my eyes against his. 

“Fine. But you started this. How do you plan to fix it? Or would caring about me interrupt your sulking?” 

My face hot and my words harsh. I love him. Why can’t he just see that? He won’t see that. I have to figure something else out. I can’t return to my home empty handed. I refuse.

“This isn’t my fault. I didn’t ruin your relationship with your brother. He’s watched you stumble around drunk for longer than I’ve been alive. He lost trust in you long before any of this.”

“Stop”

His eyes close, severing the bridge between us. All that’s left is chasm. I want to stop. I don't want this either. I can’t. 

“No, you stop. Your inadequacy is not my fault.” 

It’s over. I’ve broken it. I’ve come here to save myself and I’ve ruined it.

He reopens his eyes. This time his gaze fixed on the floor. A stain from spilled wine. He finishes the glass. 

“Tell him that. Tell him this is my fault.”

I trace the lines of the strain with my eyes. Has that always been there? 

“Tell him you don’t have feelings for me. That I never made you laugh, that you don’t need me. The truth.”

Our eyes connect and flitter back to the stain. 

“He has to believe that I’m at fault.” 

He’s right. That will work. Bowser already hates his brother. It would be so easy to make this Boo’s fault. Pin it to their sibling rivalry. 

This is my final chance. 

“But I love you-“

“So?” 

“Please-“

“Let it pass.” 

A grief growing between his words. 

“Please. Leave.”

I’ve reduced a monarch to a beggar. What a cruel monster I’ve become. I make my way out pausing at the threshold. The frame marking the finality of our relationship. I peek back at him. He’s refilling his glass. He doesn’t look up. 

I will never forgive him.

Chapter Text

There’s a point in a cascade where the inciting event has passed so all that’s left is a series of fates. Bowser looming over me in a crowded hallway is just the next precipitate. His shadow casts over me. He hovers there, filling the space with his mourning. 

I remember Rosa sitting in the blinding light of morning. Is this how she felt? Braced for the consequence of an inevitable action. 

“Why did you do it?”

An echo of my own mind, quoted by Bowser. 

To trick fate is a difficult task. First we must escape the penumbra. Bring Peach to the light and damn myself to darkness. 

“Where did you get this delusion that I am a good person?”

“She’s my wife, Boo”

Exactly, wives are pure maidens fooled by wicked men. A decade of romance novels have taught you that. Next we turn that sorrow to anger. 

“My point stands.”

He becomes the hero. He grabs the collar of my shirt and turns his villain to face the punishment of his misdeeds. 

He is a formidable figure. He towers over me, his fangs just above my eyeline. A snarl forms across his lips. His eyes narrow. He is shaking from his rage. 

He might actually hit me.

This would go along better if there wasn’t a crowd to witness a cursed beast imperil a frail royal. 

“You’re threatening your king.”

I glance around the crowd, hoping he notices the attention his outburst collects. They won’t understand this the way he does. The perspective is all wrong.  

“No, I’m threatening my brother.”

I reach up and grab the nape of Bowser’s neck. I pull our faces together. Our breaths intermingle. As your brother, listen to me. 

“Don’t be a fool.”

A whisper between us. Then a bellow for the crowd. 

“Leave.”

I release Bowser and gesture to the spectators, the motion large and commanding. We have to work against any notion of frailty as this encounter makes its way into lore. 

“Now!” 

The horde scatters. All that remains is Bowser and I. I grab his shoulder and we begin the march to the privacy of my quarters. Dusk is settling over the castle. The light pouring through the windows diminishes with every step we take. 

There was a moment during his fury that Bowser looked more like Eidolon than even I. How much fairer of a fight would it be between brothers than father and son?

The walk seems to calm Bowser. His rage settles into hatred. He writhes under my touch. I release him. That’s good. Our final step is pity. 

As we approach the doors that not long ago opened to supply his pain, his fury dissipates completely. His contempt hardens. Please forgive me for reopening this wound so soon. 

I meander around the room, picking up a bottle left on my desk and leaving my crown in its place. I settle into the chair by the window. No one walks the garden below. The only movement is the wind as it pushes through the leaves.

“I’ve never been a good role model, have I?”

I slump into my chair and take a long gulp from the bottle. He settles on the foot of my bed. He looks past me to study the darkness beyond.

 “How many times have you said you’d stop that?”

He waves at the bottle dangling in my hand. Disappointment lingers in his eyes and he runs his tongue against the inside of his bottom lip. 

“Look, hate me but be smart about it. Those nobles will talk. They are looking for any excuse to villainize you.”

My statements are punctuated by motions emphasizing the bottle. The dark liquid swirls inside. His eyes follow it. I continue.

“Think of your future as heir to the throne.”

He’s had enough. He slouches forward and rests his arms on his knees. His head falls to his hands. He looks every bit a disappointed father. A familiar sight. I use this as an excuse to take another long draw from the bottle. 

“A lecture. Now?”

I shrug, exaggerating my intoxication. 

“I… just stay away from Peach.”

We’ve concluded our deception. I am a scoundrel not even worthy of reasoning with allowing him to reinstate Peach’s virtue. She was seduced. She was led astray. She is innocent. 

One more nail in my coffin. 

“Once I’m dead and you’re king, you can spit on my grave. I won’t haunt you for it.” 

He leaves to reconcile with his virtuous wife. His hero’s journey has concluded. The fates be damned. I’ve saved him. I finished the bottle in a somber celebration. 

What will he think of me, years down the line? What will any of them think? 

I want to be seen by history as a far away sun. Refracted through their instruments. Never captured, only imagined. Cold and distant, but a fire burns.