"Ling!"

Ike’s shout came out thin and sharp, like a blade snapping in frost.

He’d never imagined the intruder would have his lover slung over a shoulder like a sack.

"Why did you kidnap her!"

His mind reeled, a hive kicked open.

He and Ling met away from crowds, like moths at midnight lanterns.

They walked together only at night, wrapped in alleys and hush.

So who knew she was his?

The intruder seemed to read the question in Ike’s eyes and smiled like a knife.

"Oho~ I didn’t know either at first," he cooed, voice honey over rot.

"Your dear brothers told me.

The solemn, noble, justice-loving Prince Ike has a secret, pretty girlfriend underground."

"Looks like even a 'pure' prince hides a wicked spark. Ahahahaha!"

"I’m out!" Ike burst, a storm breaking against stone.

"I withdraw from the succession right now! Let her go!"

Between power and love, Ike chose love, like choosing warm fire over a cold throne.

In his eyes, that true flame outshone any dull crown.

He bent to yield, yet the intruder’s laugh slithered out like a viper from grass.

A chill pricked Ike’s spine, a weather change before rain.

"Heh-heh-heh! I’ve changed my mind," the man purred, smoke curling behind his teeth.

"Your brothers hired me to keep you out of the royal selection.

Letting you die is one way too, isn’t it?"

"But relax, I’m merciful.

I don’t hand out death as a kindness."

"Here’s the game.

I take your lovely girl home.

You come save her with everything you’ve got.

Hurry, though.

Who knows what happens when a man and a woman share one quiet room?"

"Especially when the man is the world’s most handsome.

If the poor girl... tsk, tsk... you know."

The spring-loaded dagger in Ike’s sleeve kicked like a trapped hawk.

His training iced his blood and whispered no.

Steel trembled, yet stayed.

The intruder found Ike’s restraint boring, like a drum with no beat.

So he prodded the wound to make it bleed.

He grabbed the girl’s wrist without pity, rough as a rope burn.

Even as a mage, he hoisted her one-handed, as if she weighed air.

Maybe her body sensed danger, like a deer smelling wolf.

Though half-unconscious, she shivered in the hang of his grip.

He ignored the tremor, eyes flat as a dead pond.

His right index finger, blunt and coarse, traced her smooth underarm, slick as wet silk.

"I wonder how she tastes?" he said, pitching it high for Ike to hear.

His tongue slid out, gleaming with spit, and drifted toward Ling’s underarm like a slug.

Whoosh—

A dagger shot straight for that filthy tongue, a silver fish slicing upriver.

Just before steel could cut, the intruder blurred into black mist, like smoke unhooked from fire.

The blade lacked the art to strike the bodiless, so it passed through and thunked deep into the wall.

"Oho~ you’re mad, you’re mad," he sang, voice clapping like crows.

"Prince Ike’s anger suits him.

No time to savor it now.

Follow my black butterfly to my humble den.

We’ll savor that handsome rage later~"

Smoke spun and vanished, like ink swirling then gone.

Only a black butterfly remained, circling where he’d stood, a dark petal on air.

Ike’s fist kissed the floor hard, and the floor groaned for him like old timber.

He rose, ripped the dagger from the wall, and wiped tears he hadn’t felt fall.

His face found its royal mask again, now edged with a scar of anger.

———

Alicia paced circles on the stage, like a crane tracing rings in sand.

Her face wore tight worry, every muscle a knotted thread.

Zi watched from the side, smiling, soft as dusk.

Then she kept the tale rolling, voice a clear bell.

"After his lover was taken, the late King Ike didn’t panic," she said.

"He was more anxious than anyone, like a drum under rain.

But he knew he must not panic.

If he lost his calm, then Ling would have no savior."

"Knowing his own strength was lacking, the late King Ike decided to seek power."

The cue clicked, and Alicia moved to the next beat like a dancer chasing wind.

She spun on her heel, then veered left toward a knot of extras she needed.

"My uncle! Will you join me in a grim battle?"

She fixed the tall male extra with earnest eyes, bright as stars in a well.

They had rehearsed, but those eyes stunned him; a yes almost slipped free.

Quick-witted, Alicia stomped his foot, and he swallowed the word like a pebble.

"N—no, I cannot!"

"Adventurer, sir! Will you join me in a grim battle?"

"No!"

"Father! Grant me one thousand—no, one hundred—troops.

Grant me one hundred soldiers to fight a grim battle!"

"Why?"

"This... this... forgive me... it can’t be spoken."

"Then forgive me. No."

"The late King Ike begged far and wide, yet his reason stayed unsayable, like a fishbone.

Everyone refused that so-called battle, doors shutting like falling night.

Seeing help was useless, he didn’t despair.

He went where he’d never go, the underground black market, dark as a cavern.

He bought a splash vial that broke spells and carried virulent poison, like frost in glass.

Then he set out to hunt the intruder’s trail, wind at his back.

He had one intent, clear as a blade in moonlight.

Get Ling out.

If he died with her saved, so be it."

So Ike followed the black butterfly alone, to the place the intruder had named.