The royal carriage rolled to a smooth stop before the palace gates, its wheels barely making a sound over the pristine cobblestone path. The guards snapped to attention, their spears glinting in the sunlight.
Inside the carriage, Valen hung like a defeated mop from the arm of Princess Maribelle. She beamed as she stepped out, holding him like a glittering trophy. Her heels clicked proudly as she practically skipped into the castle, announcing in a chirpy voice, "Everyone! Meet my new pet! His name is Floof!"
Valen made a small strangled sound in his throat. It was the noise of someone who once tore apart legions of monster and now wore a bow.
This is my downfall. This is my damnation.
Day One,
The castle was as grand as expected. vaulted ceilings, glittering chandeliers, and way too many roses for Valen's liking. But none of that mattered. He was swiftly carried into the princess's personal bath chamber, a pink wonderland scented with crushed petals and shame.
"Put the rosewater on standby!" Maribelle called. "Floof looks like he's had a rough day!"
Valen's eyes widened as he was gently dunked into a massive tub of foam. Lavender bubbles consumed him. Rose petals drifted by like witnesses to his downfall.
A maid clapped. "He's so well-behaved!"
Another giggled. "He's purring!"
I'm growling you whelp!, Valen wanted to snarl. I'm ancient darkness, and you best remember that you insignificant moro-
He was scrubbed, massaged, and fluffed until his fur gleamed like moonlight and smelled of powdered sugar. A tiny towel dried his ear. Then came the bows.
Maribelle selected a large one. "This one! With sequins. It screams 'noble but cuddly.'"
Valen gave her the look of a man who had seen a thousand battlefields and was currently losing one in a bathtub.
After the bath came the wardrobe fitting. He was clothed in lace, velvet, and pearl-studded ribbons. He was dressed as a knight. Then a duke. Then a pirate. The pirate outfit came with an eyepatch and a miniature foam cutlass.
Each outfit was worse than the last.
"Sir Floofington of Fluffshire," Maribelle announced grandly as she twirled him. "Protector of pillows. Slayer of bad moods!"
Just kill me, please just kill me, Valen hissed silently.
And yet, the castle staff adored him.
"Look at him! He's glowing!"
"He looks Soo cute!"
I'm a prince damnit!, Valen howled inside.
He was paraded through the palace like a prized show creature. At one point, a duke's wife tried to pet him and exclaimed, "Oh, he blinked! So He is intelligent!"
Maribelle whispered, "He only blinks at special people."
Valen blinked twice in rage.
By the end of the day, he was curled up on a velvet pillow in Maribelle's study chamber. She scribbled in her books while humming, occasionally reaching over to boop his nose.
He had endured Wars. Assassinations. Betrayals.
This was worse.
The rest of the day was torture. He was paraded through study halls, tea parties, and the palace gardens. He was cuddled during naptime. He was sung to like a baby.
One week, he told himself, Just One week and the command wears off, after that I'll rip the sun from the sky.
Day Two,
Valen woked up, dressed as a tiny wizard.
He wasn't sure when Maribelle had time to make a hat that fit his head, but it sparkled in defiance of his will to live. His cape shimmered with runes. Fake ones.
"I've summoned the mighty wizard Flooficus!" Maribelle proclaimed to the maids, who applauded like she'd just performed a royal ballet.
I'll summon fire from the sky, Valen muttered. Or tried to. It came out as a sneeze.
While Maribelle sat through her daily lessons on etiquette and ruling (which she mostly ignored to doodle hearts around 'Floof' in her notebook), Valen made his escape.
He waddled. dignified, if that's possible in a wizard cape. through the palace halls. He dodged a flying tray of biscuits, avoided being scooped up by a giddy butler, and slipped into a council chamber just as a meeting began.
Behind a tapestry, he listened in.
"More sightings near the borderlands," a voice said. "Dark creatures. Not random beasts. Coordinated."
"They're drawn by something," said another, graver voice. "is it power?. Ancient artifacts?. Quite Dangerous."
Valen's fur stiffened.
They've found me.
The monsters that chased him from his own domain after he was exiled. they hadn't stopped. They were closing in. He was still being hunted.
Before he could retreat, a footman opened the door. Valen scampered behind a decorative vase just in time.
Back in the study, Maribelle gasped. "Where did you go, Floof? I was worried sick!"
She hugged him tight.
"I would've cried actual tears. Like, real ones."
That's the problem, Valen thought bitterly.
That evening, a tall, cold shadow entered the room. Prince Lucien.
He didn't knock. He never knocked.
He wore the same expression as someone who just stepped in something expensive. His gaze moved to Valen, who sat in his wizard outfit like a ball of rage stitched together by ribbon and regret.
"That... thing. What is it?"
"He's not a thing!" Maribelle said, scandalized. "He's Floof. He's my guardian. Isn't he soo cute?."
"It looks... cursed."
"you mean cute!."
Lucien's gaze narrowed. "Is that.... Thing... Even tamed?"
Valen glared back, hoping the sheer weight of his contempt would burn a hole through the prince's fancy boots.
Maribelle pulled Valen closer. "He's mine. And if you say one more mean thing, I'll.. I'll.. I'll tell dad on you."
Lucien said nothing. Just turned and left like a stiff wind, the kind that knocks over everything fun.
Later that night, Valen lay on a silk pillow, dressed as a prince a pirate and a wizard hybrid, glitter on one ear and a plushie crown slipping off his head.
The moonlight cast silver shadows across the walls.
He stared into the darkness, eyes blazing with wrath and shame.
When I return to my true form, he vowed, I will reduce this entire palace to ash.
A maid walked by, saw him, and cooed, "Aww, he's dreaming."
He was. Of vengeance.