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"He's here, mistress," the otter announced demurely. Motes of dust and strands of fur floated around her. Her sleek, rudder-tailed frame was silhouetted in a golden ray of light, the late-afternoon sun making its presence known through the palace's ornate windows.

A milky figure stirred in the elegant tub. "Already?"

"You were most adamant about the timing. You said, 'As soon as possible, or at least before dinner'."

"You and your memory. And me and my impatience. But, then, I am a rabbit." The reclining, off-white lapine raised a leg out of the lukewarm water and into the air. She kept it at a forty-five degree angle, curling and uncurling her clawed toes, showing off her dexterity while droplets rained down. A playful expression graced her muzzle. "What's he like?"

"We already discussed-"

"Not your type, Galena?" the queen interrupted. She lowered her lithe limb and sat upright. Supple breasts breached the water like full moons rising. Her reflection shimmered. "You prefer the go-getters. Confident, strapping. A bit of machismo. Or am I wrong?"

The otter cleared her throat, sheepishly.

The rabbit propped her elbows on the tub's edge and lowered her chin into her paws, giving her trusted servant a warm, bucktoothed smile. "Do not feel embarrassed, my friend. I am only teasing. Nothing wrong with being submissive." The smile slowly faded. "Sometimes, one has to be."

"Yes, mistress," was the quiet, knowing reply.

She sighed and flopped back into the water with a light splash. "How many times have I told you not to call me that? My name's Arlet."

"The king prefers I call you mistress, mistress. Only, he overheard me addressing you informally and took me aside for a scolding." Galena self-consciously combed at her muddy-brown fur. "He does not want the authority of the monarchy undermined. Even in passing."

Arlet scoffed. "Unbelievable. He's far too concerned with appearances! Hence, well ... " She gestured at herself. "Me."

"What shall I tell your guest?"

"Is that a hint for me to end my bath?"

"If you'll take it as such," the otter said.

The queen offered an amused nod. Galena behaved far too seriously, sometimes. "I shall."

Arlet stood up, unashamed of her nakedness, water streaming off her pampered pelt. After an easy twist and stretch, she stated, "The king likes me submissive, you know. I can certainly play the part. And have done. I owe him that much." She looked square at Galena and whispered, "The problem is he knows it." The rabbit glanced downward and saw her rippling reflection. Not a very flattering angle._I'm not as waif-like as I used to be._She frowned. "So, in exchange for all that's been gifted me, he tacitly expects me to obey his every whim."

Galena opened her blunt, whiskery muzzle. And shut it. Round ears flattened to her head.

"But I'll cling to my little freedoms." Arlet stepped out of the tub, kicking her strong legs in an attempt to lighten her water-logged pelt. "You're my servant, not his. I would like to be on a first-name basis."

The otter tilted her head. "Understood, mistress, but-"

"Yes?" She flicked her bobtail, sending a fine mist every which way.

"You're putting me in a difficult position." The mustelid surveyed the queen in from tail to ear-tips and insisted, "I am loyal to you. But he is very powerful. I do not wish to be a thorn in his paw."

Or lose her cottage on the royal grounds. Or any of the other privileges she's worked so hard to accrue. "Sadly then, at day's end we find ourselves in the same boat," the rabbit confided. They locked eyes, and the queen gave an impish smile. "But I rather think he deserves a prick or two. And I intend to provide them."

Galena swallowed. "I-"

Her queen held up a paw. "Do what makes you comfortable, Galena. If that includes toweling me off, I would appreciate it. I despise being taken for granted, so I shan't take you for granted either."

"Of course." Galena reached for a large, colorful cloth and patted her superior down. After soaking the water from her fur, she idly massaged the queen's muscles with her webbed paws.

"Mm-h." Arlet closed her eyes. The otter's attentions sometimes inched beyond platonic. She anticipates my needs. She even knows how I like to be touched. Sometimes, I wonder what it would be like to kiss her. "You're the closest friend I have."

"I'm most honored, mistress." She bowed humbly. "I consider you a very close friend as well."

Rolling her neck around, the rabbit opened her eyes again. "Alright. That's enough." She gave a flick of her paw. "Fetch me my robe." Her pelt was still slightly damp, of course. But, in this heat, it would dry into a soft, fluffy state in no time.

"Shall I send him in now?" the otter asked impatiently, slipping a luxurious powder-blue robe around the rabbit's shoulders, cinching it shut and tying it around the waist. Having arranged this liaison on the queen's behalf, she was eager for it to succeed.

"Not yet. What's he like? Tell me again," Arlet pressed. "I still feel at a disadvantage." How she wished she could venture out and choose a partner herself! But I'm not exactly a free creature, am I? I'm owned, too well-known by far. It wouldn't be safe or proper. So, she had to find someone through back channels. That is to say: Galena's sister's mate's best friend.

"He's polite, gentle, and unassuming."

"Don't those all mean the same thing?" the queen teased. Boring but harmless. Easily influenced.

"And he's not a rabbit. As per your request." No risk of pups. "It took some convincing before he'd accept your invitation, though."

"I bet he was shocked."

"Well ... "

"You didn't tell him what I wanted him for?" Arlet said, fuzzy ears standing tall.

"I thought it best he hear it from you, mistress."

"Hmm. You're probably right." She raised a brow. "What made him agree to come, then?"

"I told him if he wouldn't come on invite, he would come via summons."

"Twisting arms, Galena? You're fiercer than you look." Arlet smirked.

The otter smiled back, bashfully. "My mate tells me I'm as delicate as wildflower. And as fragrant."

Arlet giggled.

"I believe we can trust him, though. I wouldn't have suggested him if I thought otherwise." The servant swallowed. She hated bringing this up, but, "Speaking of which." Trust. "Have you seen the king, lately? Only, it would be most unfortunate if he came back when ... I mean ... "

"Yes. Well." The rabbit turned away and wandered to a window. She looked out upon the royal grounds and the capital beyond. But the external world was eclipsed by her internal strife. "He's been gone a week's time. As far as I know, he won't return for several more. Off being ..." She shook her head, trying to tame her tongue. "Insufferably male," she decided upon. "Conquering something or another or strutting through the provinces as a show of diplomatic force. Or, as he'll tell me, 'keeping the peace'." She paused and added, flippantly, "With his penis, no doubt."

Galena came up behind the rabbit, putting a supportive paw on the small of her back.

"Oh, I know he breeds around, especially during his travels," Arlet whispered. She turned, nearly nose to nose with the other female. "We both know it."

The otter nodded reluctantly before whispering back, "What will he say when he finds out you're doing the same?"

"What can he say? I'm a rabbit!" Arlet defended. "He knows that." Intimately. "We're renowned for our strong libidos, and he leaves me for weeks at a time? Alone? In my prime? What am I expected to do? My paws will not suffice!" It's always grated you to live entirely in his shadow, hasn't it? To be defined by your relationship to him. You've been looking for an excuse to assert your independence. Well, now you have it.

"What's good for the goose is good for the gander," Arlet continued. "As long as, in his vicinity, I'm off-limits to all but him? I can make him understand." Wishful thinking. But he's left me no choice. "If, indeed, he becomes privy to my actions. Which he doesn't necessarily need to."

"He won't find out from me."

"I know." She took the otter's paws and squeezed them. "I do believe he loves me. If push comes to shove, I hope he'll grant me some allowance. I've given him plenty."

Loves me, as I love him. But are we still in love? Oh, technicalities! We pretend for the public's benefit. Devoted, star-crossed mates. The rules of polite society wouldn't tolerate anything less. As if we weren't all animals in private.

"Sorry, Galena," the queen apologized, releasing her servant. "I don't mean to burden you with all this."

"Never, mistress. You have no one to vent to. I am honored you choose to confide in me."

Arlet, not wanting get too emotional, replied, "Send our guest, please. And take the remainder of the day off. The rest of the staff, too, once dinner is furnished. I shall be in need of privacy for dessert."

"I understand." Galena blushed at the euphemism. "Thank you. I look forward to seeing you tomorrow, mistress." The otter, with a respectful bow, left the room.

The queen clasped her paws together and waited.

And waited.

The palace was very quiet today, almost austere. When the king and his contingent were present, things would be fairly lively even through midnight. Carousing, drinking. Playing games of chance. Heated political debates. Sex. _I've never been good at extended inactivity. Moments of luxury, yes. But I come from a restless lineage. I need to be doing something. Is that why I always require someone in my bed? _

"Hello?"

Arlet snapped back to attention.

"I was told you were expecting me?"

"Yes. Of course." She nodded, eyes settling on the male. A chipmunk. Slender, trim. His voice was on the lighter side. In many ways, he was the king's opposite, cuter than he was handsome. Tawny, dark-brown, and blackish patterns symmetrically colored his earthy pelt. His tail, while not as voluminous as a squirrel's, had similar bushy tendencies. It twitched at random. "There's no need to be nervous," she assured.

"How can I not? I've never been inside the palace. Rarely on the grounds, even. Then, out of the blue, my presence in requested? By you?" He shook his head. "You're the queen," he stated.

"That I am."

"So, why am I here?"

Arlet sauntered closer to him, robe loosening slightly.Time to get to work. "Because I wish it."

"Why?" he pressed.

"I require company," she said, trying to be diplomatic. It wouldn't do to blurt out 'I need sex on the side.'

The chipmunk squinted. "You want to spend time with a random stranger?"

"Sarcasm isn't lost on me, Mister ... ?"

"Teller."

"Teller," she repeated. "A distinguished name." He had a keen, curious look in his eyes, and was perhaps not as much a pushover as she'd expected. "The king is often away. Patrolling far-flung territories, visiting his armies, making his authority and influence known to towns that may not feel like they have a voice." You make him sound positively noble. "Our mate-ship publicly bridges the gap between predators and prey. But, privately, it's a bit more nebulous." She let this hang before asking, "Do you have a mate?" She suspected not. Galena's both prudish and prudent enough, bless her, to curtail the scope of my actions.

"No." He paused awkwardly. "I don't."

"Why not?"

"She got sick."

"Oh." The rabbit blinked, visibly taken aback. "I'm very sorry to hear that." Why didn't Galena tell me this? Did she not know? She tells me everything.

"Thank you. But it was over a year ago, now, and ... " Teller looked down, briefly. "I've moved on. Or started to." Raising his head, he stood up straighter and shrugged. "One must."

Arlet could only nod. Trying not to lose her nerve in the wake of the male's revelation, the rabbit gathered herself and declared, with an air of practiced confidence, "No one deserves to be permanently unattached."

"After loving and losing, you get scared of repeating the experience. So, you keep to yourself."

She tilted her head. "That's not healthy."

"I've never been a social butterfly, highness," he informed her simply.

"Perhaps if you discovered a new flower?"

"I may be allergic."

She spread her paws_._"Fortunately, I am quite pleasant on the senses."

"I've no doubt." She'd recently bathed, scented of fancy, floral soaps. Rather than being meticulously groomed, she gave the appearance of an impossibly soft cloud.

"Do you understand why you're here?" She leaned in closely.

"You're adorned in a very loose robe," he pointed out, noticing her cleavage. "Our whiskers are practically touching. I can venture a guess."

"Pity. If not, I had several lewd euphemisms to prompt you with." She flashed him a bucktoothed smile before pulling back and fully expanding on her intentions. "Of course, we must be discreet. The public, in spite of engaging in the very things they decry, loves a scandal. We'll make up some excuse for you being here." She circled the chipmunk excitedly, drinking in the woodland colors of his pelt. His little, angular ears flicked as they followed her traveling voice. "What do you do?"

"For a profession?" He cleared his throat. "I make things with clay. Ceramics. Sometimes functional. Sometimes for ... " He turned his whole body around, trying to follow her. "Decoration."

"You're an artist? Perfect!" She stopped moving. They faced each other once again. "We'll have a built-in excuse for your frequent visits. The palace is a big place. I could always use more vases. Oh, and dishes, and ... well, you get the idea. You'll be paid handsomely, of course. I'll see to that." She winked. "As long as you do good work."

"That's always my endeavor, highness," the chipmunk replied slowly. He was going to be paid to have an affair? With her?

"Call me Arlet."

"But you're the-"

"Yes, the queen. A monarch. Not a goddess," she chided. It was true that, for the most part, she enjoyed the titles and the deference. She had no qualms ordering her servants around. She was used to it. But, now and then, she wanted to feel regular. Perhaps it was nostalgia? There's not an ounce of royal blood in my body. I'm as much a commoner as Teller or Galena. I just got lucky. _ _

"Arlet," he echoed. There was no use arguing with her. "Very regal."

The rabbit smiled. "Thank you."

He made a distinctive chipping noise. "Just to be clear, and I'm not meaning to be difficult, but do I have a choice?"

"I don't want to force you into anything. If the thought of breeding with me truly offends you, you're free to go." She smirked at the absurdity of the idea. "However, if you stay and indulge me? I promise you'll be equally ... " She walked her delicate, blunt-clawed fingers up his arm, curling them around his neck. "Indulged." She kissed at his chin. "We both need more affection than we're getting." I'm not a pushover. I won't let the king dictate my sex life. He's still a part of it, and I want him to be. Don't I? He's my mate, after all. But he's cheating on me! That demands an active response.

The chipmunk considered if he should he be honored, offended, or terrified. Perhaps all three? She didn't even know him! And yet she wanted to use him as a sexual pawn to get back at the king? He hadn't asked to be brought into this. True, she was pretty and he was in a dry spell, but-

"Only three furs would know. You, me, and my otter friend who fetched you," she continued.

"Galena," he recalled, nodding. "We've met several times."

"Some of the other servants will invariably sniff us out." Arlet chuckled briefly, imagining them literally doing so. "But they won't dare say anything. I'm well liked in the palace. Besides, the king values his reputation, and they value their hides. Besmirching him carries no benefit."

"So, I won't be clawed to pieces?" Teller challenged. "I'm disposable compared to you. If the king catches us, I'm the one who'll suffer. What are you risking for your part in this?"

"Plenty," she insisted defensively. "And you won't be harmed."

"How can I be sure of that?"

"Would you prefer I find someone else?"

"That's not what I-"

The rabbit held up a milky-white paw to stop him. "Go back into the corridor. I'll comb my pelt and change into a proper dress, and we'll have the evening meal." The sun was just about to set. "We can talk more."And build up our energy for nighttime. If I have my way, we'll be getting very little sleep.

"Easy, there," Arlet warned.

"Sorry." He gave the queen an embarrassed glance. "I'm not used to this much food," he explained, between bites of freshly-baked bread and raw vegetables. "Is every meal like this?"

"Like what?"

"So, um ... " He swallowed. "Extravagant?"

"Don't gorge," was all she said, grabbing an apple. Golden with a rosy blush. "You need to leave room for dessert." There was a sweet, juicy crunch as she bit into it. She began chewing, bathed in the dusky, pink glow of sunset. The shimmering sphere slowly sank below the dry horizon.

He wiped his lips and nodded. "What's that?"

"This? Gingergold," she said. "Here." She grabbed one from a bowl and tossed it to him."

The chipmunk studied it before taking a bite himself. His emerald eyes lit up.

The rabbit giggled. "You approve?"

"Much more flavor than the apples I'm used to."

"They're from another province, where the weather and soil are better suited for such things. The king has them specially brought in."

"Mm." Teller took a few more bites and then reached for something else. "Why me?" he mumbled through his mouthfuls. "Why am I here?"

"I thought we discussed that," the female reminded, a frown gracing her features.

"We did, but ... " He gulped, dabbing his lips with a cloth napkin. "There are countless random males you could've chosen."

"My servant, Galena, knew of you," Arlet reiterated. "Once learning of my intentions, she offered to secure a safe, suitable partner. She deemed you attractive and trustworthy and felt you might be amenable to an arrangement."

"Why would she think that?"

"You'll have to ask her. Regardless, I value her judgment."

"And that's it?" Starting to feel full, he eased up on the food.

"Why shouldn't it be? Sex is far simpler than we feign to make it," the rabbit insisted, ears twiddling. There were a few gold loops and gem-adorned earrings toward the tall tips. They glinted in the disappearing light. "The rituals, the flirting, the dancing? It's all decoration. To separate us, in our own perception, from the ferals."

"So, you're saying romance is a false front?"

"It serves its purpose," she allowed, getting back to the point. "My needs aren't being met. I feel trapped. You're at a loose end. And clearly jaded from being left there."

He didn't deny that.

"We can help each other out."

Teller fiddled with a knife and fork. Pure silver. He shook his head, more out of uncertainty than denial.

"Do I not seem real to you?" she wondered.

"Distractingly so," he confessed. "I feel dizzy from such reality."

"Due to arousal or fear?"

"Both."

"What must I do to convince you this isn't a dream or a trick? To put you at ease?"

"It's perhaps best I don't answer that," he breathed. Though he'd maintained a proper, restrained veneer, he couldn't deny the temptation to succumb to her was palpable. She was undeniably alluring. But it was more than physical. She was unexpectedly sharp, and that smart, confident brand of sensuality reminded him so much of his departed mate. There was a fire in her. He became wistful, flooded with memories.

"You seem distracted."

"Can you blame me?" he asked, trying to clear his mind.

"I suppose not. I ask myself the same question all the time. Is this really happening?" Taking another bite of apple, her nose twitched repeatedly. "The king and I don't have much in common, as you might've surmised. He doesn't trust me with political or administrative aspects of the kingdom. I ask, of course. But he says that's what advisers are for. Coincidentally," she added, bitterly, "his advisers are all male. When that became a valid qualification, I do not know. Physical strength is hardly equitable to mental acuity."

"He won't even take me to sporting matches," she continued. Her eyes narrowed as she became visibly agitated, whiskers stiffening. "He'll take me to plays. Concerts. Mostly to have someone on his arm. So the influential males and their pretty females can see his even prettier female." She picked up a fork and twirled it. And stabbed a half-eaten loaf of bread. "I'm cared for. Spoiled. Have everything I could ever want. Or so I'm told." She pushed the bread aside. It's not enough. "Am I being unfair?"

"Our society isn't the most enlightened," the chipmunk explained carefully.

The rabbit rolled her eyes. "That's an excuse."

"It's also the truth. Unfortunately, I have no power." He spread his arms. "I can't change the culture. And even if I could, it wouldn't be immediate. Reform takes time. Generations, even." He lowered his voice, stressing, "You have power, Arlet. You're in a position to change things."

"Haven't you been listening? It's not that easy." The queen sighed weakly, rubbing her forehead. An understatement. "I still remember the day he found me." Her gaze grew distant. How long ago was it? Four, five years? "I was working in the fields on my family's farm. It was autumn. Nearly harvest. There'd been rumors of the sovereign inspecting his new, outlying territories." She skipped several beats. "I was frozen in place when I saw him. I trembled."

"At the time, I thought it was out of respect. I was a poor girl. He was a powerful ruler. It was natural to feel intimidated. But, thinking back, I realize it was fear. He was so tall and strong, with a gaze was as sharp as his claws. If not sharper. His voice was so deep. Everything about him was intimidating." And still is.

Arlet swallowed and continued, "We locked eyes across a great distance. He liked what he saw and had his servants fetch me later that evening. I was brought to his tent." She brushed the back of her paw across her lips slowly, sensually. "I had no say in the matter. But, then, he didn't say much either." Unless you count body language. Oh, I was so naïve! I didn't even know they had barbs down there. But it was so, so good ...

"He's nothing if not charismatic. He makes you love him, somehow." As all good leaders do."I was a diversion and a toy to him at first, then became a token to appease the prey populace and momentarily stem their ever-increasing resentment. He adores me for the pleasure I provide and for the political capital I represent. I'm left to wonder, though, what it's like to be loved for being yourself." _Surely, that doesn't involve being left alone in the palace in the dead heat of summer. An afterthought. _

Teller opened his mouth but no words came out. He wasn't sure what to say.

"He mostly likes to eat, sleep, and screw," she added bluntly, glad for an audience that wasn't her servants. Teller's reactions were fresh, honest. His face was free of falsehood. She had his complete and honest attention. "Lions have reputations for being lazy? Well, it's not true in the bedchamber.

The chipmunk raised a brow.

"He never hurts me, though," Arlet assured. "I mean, he gets rough in the heat of the moment, but ... and the barbs? They sting. At first." A rare, coquettish smile appeared on her snowy muzzle. "The pain eventually fades into a fevered bliss. It's quite unique." Her breasts swelled. "He would never hurt me," she repeated quietly. Almost as if she were trying to convince herself. The king hadn't harmed her yet, no.

But could he?

Oh, yes.

She had a strong, well-founded suspicion that he'd murdered his own father in order to claim the throne early. He was more than capable of extreme violence. He was a predator. It was in his blood. She'd seen the repressed rage in his eyes. He took it out on the battlefield, in acquisitions of foreign lands. In hunting. But what if, one day, he snapped and took it out on her? He can smell my anxiety. He uses it to keep me in my place. He gets off on it.

"You talk about how you dislike his treatment of you, and yet you simultaneously speak of him with an element of fondness?" Teller said, shaking his head. "I'm struggling to understand."

"It confuses me, as well," Arlet assured wearily. "The twistedness of it. Needless to say, relationships are complex creatures. Our passion was strong at first. It's faded, lately. I've become like a pet," she confessed. "Or a piece of jewelry." She fiddled with a golden ring on her paw. "He has to wear me to keep up appearances with his subjects. But he has no qualms with taking me off when it suits him. During his lengthy trips, for instance ... "

"You said he's on such a trip right now?"

"Yes."

"Why didn't you go with him?" Teller asked.

"I would've liked to. I yearn to travel. As I said, I'm from ... " She gazed across the room, feeling a pang of melancholy. She hadn't seen her family in how long? "Far away." A simple smile. "But, when he's gone, in addition to his official duties, he spends his nights, well ... " She gestured with her paws, the smile evaporating. "Doing what I plan on doing with you."

"I see."

"He doesn't exactly want me around for that! Not that I blame him." Even thinking about it made her tense. Made her jealous. Angry. You're about to do the same thing with Teller, here. Doesn't that make you a hypocrite? "The thing is: I know why he's doing it. Or how he justifies it, at least. He needs heirs, you see. Little princes. I can't provide them. He needs other felines." Is that inadequacy in your voice? "If he'd come to me and told me he was doing this, temporarily? If he'd been honest?" It's resentment. I have needs, too. They deserve to be met. She clenched her jaw. "But he didn't. You know why?"

Teller shook his striped head.

"Because I seriously doubt, after achieving his goal of siring sons, that he'll have the willpower to stop philandering. He's the king! Every female in the land would raise their tail for him. He didn't get into his current position by passing up opportunities. So, if he knows he's opening the floodgates, why warn me? Better to leave me to drown."

Teller twitched. In spite of not wanting to get overly involved, it was hard not to be moved by the rabbit's confessions. He had a compassionate nature. It was, perhaps, a quality Galena had singled him out for. The queen needed someone who would listen to as well as lust for her. "So, if he didn't tell you, how'd you find out about all this?"

"Some of his servants told my servants who then told me. They like me and felt I should know." The rabbit, long finished with her apple, set the core aside. She flicked it around, watching it spin until it stopped. The stem, incidentally, pointed directly at Teller. "But I had my suspicions. It wasn't exactly a shock."

"Have you confronted him about it?"

"It won't change anything." Arlet dipped a clawed finger into a wine glass and swirled it around. Then sucked on that fingertip.

"Are you afraid he'll become violent?"

She didn't answer that. Just said, "I've thought about doing this sooner. Taking my desires into my own paws, satisfying them on my own terms? There's a certain thrill in even having you at this table. My pulse races, I must admit."

"As does mine," he assured.

"Yes, I can almost hear it." She strained her slender ears.

"White-furred rabbits are rather rare in this part of the world," he observed.

"Very," she said with a nod. "That's part of what caught the king's attention. My uniqueness. My paternal grandparents were both from the far north. Snow rabbits. Or so I'm told. They died before I was born. Their fur was said to be an even paler white. Thanks to my mother, I have a bit of warmth to mine."

"Like cream," he breathed.

"That's one interpretation."

Teller smiled. He didn't know why. It just happened. "How'd they end up down here, then? Your ancestors?"

"I have no idea. My father wouldn't talk about it. I suspect, because of this, they met a very bad end at a predator's paw. But," she said quickly, raising a wine glass, "I wouldn't be here if they hadn't come. To fate." She tossed back a swig of wine, sloshing it around her maw before swallowing and lamenting darkly, "It's not easy being prey."

"No, it's not," he agreed whole-heartedly. He took a sip of water. "My mate ... well, former ... " He cleared his throat. The only thing more unfair than life was death. "My departed," he finally managed, "was a big believer in fate. She'd pray every night. I prayed with her, sometimes, even though I only vaguely, if at all, believed in it. Just because I loved her that much. Sometimes, I wonder if I was wrong for indulging her, but ... " He twitched, painfully.

"Differences have a way of framing two parts into a more solid whole." He laced his fingers together. "When you're the same, you can't make up for each other's deficiencies. But when you're opposites? You can provide counterbalance. And, with it, equilibrium. As much as predators and prey are at each other's throats, we need each other to survive."

"Do we?" Arlet posed, unconvinced. "What you say has some merit. But it's a rather romantic view of things."

"I guess, ultimately, I'm a romantic."

"That's becoming apparent."

"And you're not?" he mumbled, eying the wine. He reached for it.

"I consider myself passionate more than romantic."

"What's the difference?" Teller pressed.

"I'd have to show you."

He downed a few gulps.

"No, no, you're doing it wrong," she advised, leaning forward. "Slowly. Sniff, sip, slosh." She nodded. "Yes, like that. Get the taste. Once appreciated, swallow."

He smacked his lips. "I'm used to beer, I guess."

"I'll try not to hold that against you."

The chipmunk stared at his glass. "I can't tell if that was good or not."

"It is. It's from an acclaimed vintage. The king's cousins have vineyards."

"What doesn't he have?" Teller asked rhetorically.

She answered anyway. "Finesse."

After a moment, he observed, "I may be an artist, but you're much more cultured than me."

"I was fairly ignorant and uncouth before I was whisked into the upper echelon."

"I'm sure that's not true," he whispered. "You're a natural. You must've always had a spark."

"When I disparage myself, I mean it."

"Well, it's falling on deaf ears." He waited before saying, "We're rare in these parts. Chipmunks. But, so, self-admittedly, are you. It used to bother me. But, now, I think perhaps it's better to be unique that ubiquitous. Rarity is a prize."

"And rare prizes are kept in fancy cages," she said sadly.

"I'm trying to tell you that you're beautiful. You brought me here to please your body? I'm increasingly willing to oblige. But it's your mind that's making me want you most."

She felt a rush of heat, replying in deflection, "Is it true chipmunks have pouches in their cheeks?"

"More like they stretch," he corrected.

"I find things like that interesting. Traits held over from ancient times? For instance, I have big foot-paws," she admitted. "But I don't lope and hop around very much. I'm a bit more supple than lithe these days." What's stopping me from exercising in the gardens? Do I have no one to impress anymore?

"You look perfect to me," he said, steering the conversation back to romance. The light was low, making for deep, heavy shadows. The sun had finally set, the sky segueing into blues and purples on its way to black.

"You're becoming quite incorrigible."

"Am I?" His green eyes met hers icy-blues. "Maybe it's the wine. Or maybe you're just not what I expected."

She smiled, happily. "Go on ... "

"This way," Arlet said, motioning right. They drifted through a candlelit corridor, bare foot-paws making nary a sound on the cool, hard floor. Outside, the clear night sky hung like a sequined shroud over the sleepy capital, crickets and cicadas displacing the birdsongs of earlier. There was a breeze. It was still warm but no longer uncomfortably hot.

"How do you not get lost in here?" Teller wondered, keeping his voice to a hush. He stayed closely behind the rabbit. He'd never been inside a bigger building.

"Oh, I did. At first. You get used to it. Could walk it with my eyes closed, now," she insisted. "Besides, we don't use all the rooms. The left third of the palace sits fairly empty."

"Isn't that wasteful?"

"Future-proofing. Who knows how big the royal family will eventually become?" There was a bite in her voice as she said this. "It also allows for the comfortable housing of foreign leaders and diplomats. And, well, it's just in the king's bloodline to be ostentatious." She suddenly stopped moving.

He bumped into her with a squeak.

"Why are you trailing me?" She turned around, eyes sparkling in the moonlight. "Are you staring at my rump?"

"What? No!" A guilty pause. "You know where we're going. I don't."

"You're sweet." The words sounded fragile, as if she hadn't said them in a long, long time. She nosed his shoulder, pressing her breasts to his chest and giving him a taste of her affections. "But this isn't going to be fun for me if you don't really want it," she whispered into his head-fur.

"I do want it."

"Then admit you were staring at me."

"Fine." The rodent swallowed. "I was staring at your bobtail."

"My ass, you mean?"

"Yes."

"Thank you." She took his paw. It was comfortably warm, slightly weathered from years of sculpting. "Just a bit further." When they reached the end of the corridor, she released him to open a tall set of doors. They'd made it this far. The bedchamber. This is really going to happen. I'm going to do this!

"Your bed is several times bigger than mine," the impressed chipmunk observed as he went inside.

"I'm sure that's an exaggeration," Arlet insisted, shutting and locking the doors behind them. "We need more light, don't we?" She lit two oil lamps, putting one beside and one at the head of the bed. In addition, pale moonbeams streamed through the open windows. "Bright enough?"

"It'll do," Teller said distractedly as he turned around and looked up.

"The painting?" Arlet guessed, reaching for a perfume bottle. She daintily dabbed both sides of her neck.

"Um ... " He cleared his throat. Before them, a very tall, very big oil painting of the king. The strong, dusty lion was posing nude. Flexing. And clearly aroused at his own attractiveness because, between the legs, he was looking a bit-

"Cocky, right?" The rabbit came up behind the chipmunk, freshly scented. Like warm, exotic spice. Cinnamon and anise. And still that undercurrent of flowers from earlier. She hugged Teller, nuzzling his nape and explaining, "He had that painted for his coming of age. When he became old enough to assume the throne. Before he met me. He swears, if he'd known me then, he would've put me in the painting with him. Taking me in some authoritative position. I replied, if that was truly the case, why not commission a new one? I suspect he worries I would draw more attention than him."

"I do not doubt it." Though the king was impressive in his own right, he couldn't match Arlet's radiance. "Feels like I'm being watched, though. I can even smell his scent in here."

She turned Teller around, peppering his face with needy, urgent kisses. "Do not think about him. Think about me." She pressed a clawed, furred finger to his lips. "How do you want me?" she cooed.

After a breathless moment, the chipmunk decided, "I want you as you wish to be had."

"A predictably romantic reply to such a lusty request."

"You clearly invited me here because you know what you want. And you crave the freedom to have it. That being the case, I would defer to your whims. This is your night. I'm merely a witness."

"A poet as well as an artist. Or are they the same thing?" the rabbit breathed, beginning to shed her fancy clothes. Her dress. Her undergarments. She didn't make a show of it. She was tired of waiting. I've waited long enough.

After a dizzied, horny hesitation, he began to undress as well. Tossing his shirt. Kicking his pants away.

She hopped against him, approving of his eagerness, her freed, jiggling breasts squishing to his tawny, slightly-toned chest. The patterns on his lighter, whiter front weren't as pronounced as they were on his head and back, but the colors still swept into one another so symmetrically. She peeled down his last restraints, eager for cock.

He, however, desired her lips, kissing her with a sudden, suckling need. They swayed. Shuffling, mutually naked, backward. Until Arlet, with a squeal, tumbled onto the spacious bed. Teller followed her on all fours, momentarily taken by the softness of the blankets and the silkiness of the sheets, not to mention the downiness of the pillows.

"I'm softer," she murred, piercing his distraction.

"And I'm harder," he mumbled impulsively, nibbling on her shoulder.

She laughed sharply, not expecting such a crude retort. But approving, nonetheless. "I would hope so."

"Have I told you how lovely you are?"

"I rarely tire of flattery. But for the moment, fewer words, more actions. Go down on me," she urged. For once, I'll be giving the orders in my own bed. "Pace yourself. The night is young and my desire runs deep."

He made his way down her supple figure, kissing and caressing, exploring every curve and valley.

Arlet's paws, betraying her impatience, pushed at his shoulders while her legs spread in anticipation.

Teller kissed both thighs, left and right, warmly nuzzling his way to her exposed, forbidden sex. Few but the king had seen it. He stared. That feminine flower, ripe and fertile in the summer heat. It beckoned him. A pouting, pink oasis of flushed flesh amidst a sea of tufted, white loin-fur. Such fur! Thicker than elsewhere on her pelt, but that same milky, moonlit color. He gripped her hips, skirting her clitoris with his tongue. Then, skipping pleasantries, dove between her petals. Slow, swirling, scooping licks.

The rabbit shivered. Yes!

His nose sniffed wildly, finding her scent to be far more intoxicating than the drink they'd had earlier. He inched toward her pearl again. That darling bud. He nosed and nuzzled it before blowing a hot, gentle breath over the swelling, sensitive skin. Quickly glancing upward, his ears cocked, he gauged her expression before licking it outright.

"Ah-h." Her heels dug into his body. "Ah!"

He did it again. And began to finger her, too. If she felt like this around his finger ...

The rabbit squirmed, head sinking into a pile of cushy pillows. Her equally soft breasts pushed upward as she huffed for air. She reached down and clutched at her new lover's head-fur. "Keep going," she pleaded.

He wielded his velvety tongue with abandon, ignoring the growing tightness in his jaw muscles as the minutes passed.

"Mm, mm-h!" she whined in high, sudden pitches. She wasn't even attempting to keep quiet. Her paws left his head and slapped and grabbed at the bed-sheets. Her neck twisted about, ears waggling, tongue peeking past her buckteeth. "Mm-f."

"Did you ... " He raised up, panting, whiskers glistening and dripping with her juices. "You came?"

She nodded weakly.

"Harder to tell when experiencing it from the outside."

"In spite of my cries? Don't worry," she said, breath laced with amusement. "We're not done yet." Not by a long shot.

"It wasn't a complaint. Merely an observation."

"I'm sure," she ribbed.

He stroked her fur. Half the males in the kingdom would kill for this. To spend a night in the queen's bed? But, in return, the king would probably kill them for doing so. His adrenaline spiked. He tried to ignore it, but the risk was oddly thrilling. He hadn't felt this alive in ages. "You taste sweet, by the way."

"The king says I'm salty. Tangy."

"He's only half-right. You should eat those apples more often."

"Is my muzzle sugared, as well?"

"I would need a reminder."

"Get up here," she whispered huskily.

Without hesitation, he slid back up her body, stopping to suck on a hardened nipple. A paw tweaked the other before squeezing the entire breast it belonged to. Then upward once more. He nibbled her neck, chin, and cheek. Their whiskers brushed. Noses touched. "I just want you to know that, no matter where this leads, I-"

"Hush." She kissed him.

He melted into it.

When their lips smacked apart, she mumbled, lasciviously, "You're right. I do taste sweet." She then reached between them, fingers finding something stiff and hot. And, apparently, quite sensitive. For when she seized it, the chipmunk gasped. "I don't know how males survive with these things." Another squeeze. Harder, this time. "They're so vulnerable."

"We manage," Teller murmured with a helpless squirm.

She loosened her grip, fingers remaining around his cock. No barbs or knots. No tricks. Just hot and hard. Perfect. She then began to stroke it, his orbs swelling and pulling tight beneath.

The chipmunk whimpered, arching desperately. He was burning up. "Let me take you!"

Arlet wagged her thumb over his blunt tip, spreading the slippery pre around. Unable to summon a poetic response, she just opened her legs.

Teller gave a few exploratory bumps and grinds.

She transitioned into a full-body hug.

He then slid inside her without ceremony. It was a surreal, scintillating moment, as if from a dream. She was smooth and wet, hot as a jungle. Her walls snugly conformed to his intruding flesh. Catching his breath, he started to thrust. Once, twice, finding a steady angle and rhythm. The friction was so wonderfully addicting. He couldn't stop.

Arlet mewed encouragingly, white paws sliding up and down the male's trim, undulating back. Teller wasn't nearly as long or thick as the king was. But it didn't matter. His motions were reverent instead of controlling, firm instead off rough. The gyrations of his hips were so joyous, like a dance. She wasn't just a piece of tail to him. Right now, she was his everything. Her ego soared.

He chipped loudly. Short, piercing noises which echoed throughout the bedroom and masked the steady squelching of their genitals. Above them, his banner-like tail flagged and fluttered, stirring the dry air. His body began to tense.

The rabbit, no stranger to sex, knew he was close to losing it. She stopped him. "Not yet."

"Why ... why not?"

"I want to switch positions. To ride you." Her fingers danced up and down his spine, seductively. "And I want to do it while facing his image."

Teller propped himself up, earthy fur matting with sweat. "The painting?"

Arlet nodded defiantly.

He chuckled before realizing she was serious. "Isn't that a bit much?"

"Let's find out," she replied, not giving him time to contemplate it. She quickly shoved him aside, rolling and raising, pinning him to the middle of the cushy bed. She was stronger than she looked. A moment later, she had straddled him, her bobtail flickering like a flame. The heat of their bodies was so thick. They could almost taste each other in the air.

Teller eagerly gripped her curvy, rotating hips. While the lion's haughty portrait watched, he submitted to the rabbit. He bucked. She bounced. What had started as gentle, sweet lovemaking had devolved into outright animal passion.

Rolling her plush, cotton-tailed rump, she leaned forward and planted her arms like stilts onto the bed on either side of her body. After making brief eye contact, she sucked and nibbled on his shoulders and neck.

The chipmunk bumped her face with his twitchy nose, wanting another kiss.

She provided one, brief and sloppy.

"Arlet," he eventually moaned, head lolling aside. His cock tingled. This was it! "I'm ... oh, I'm-"

She knew. Sitting fully upright, she beat him to it. As queen, it was her prerogative to come first. Hips slamming downward, she forced him to a sudden hilt, her pussy rocked with sharp, seismic spasms. She gasped as nature rewarded her, hot pleasure seeping through her entire being. Yes, yes, yes!

"Ah, ah-h!" Teller squeaked. Her slick, steamy walls rigorously massaged him. Her breasts wobbled. He impulsively grabbed at them. The lurid look on her face? It was the final straw. His penis began jerking, firing rapid bursts of thick, white-hot seed. Each one left him punch-drunk. "Ah-h ... "

There was a minute of giddy, erratic breathing as they leveled off from their shared highs. Then relative silence. Was it already over?

Teller peered down at their sticky loins. Trembling, he then looked to the ceiling. Shadows danced in the lamplight, teasing potential consequences of their actions.

The rabbit leaned forward again and covered the rodent's chest. She hugged him, flush with lazy afterglow. "You okay?"

Wracked with emotion, he returned the embrace. "It's been so long since I've felt anything that ... " He struggled for words before shaking his head. He began stroking her pelt. "Exquisite."

She looked into his eyes, perceptively. "Is that all?"

He hesitated. "Now that my head's clear, perhaps there's also some-"

"Guilt isn't allowed," she interrupted quickly, ears twitching.

"It's not guilt, exactly." He sighed. "It's doubt."

"One leads to the other. Your mate, wherever she is, will forgive you. Mine drove me to this. We deserve more. It's not my intention to lead us to ruin." Only bliss. Forget the road to hell. "Do you trust me?"

He nodded, head-fur rustling on the sheets.

"Good." Dismounting, she laid beside him. A mess trickled out of her. "We'll be careful. This will only happen when the king is away from the capital." And, lest their scents linger, in rooms the lion didn't frequent. "Galena will be our go-between."

Teller, haunted by his past, tried to anchor himself in the moment. "Are you tired yet?"

"No."

He pawed at Arlet's rump. "Neither am I."

The queen smiled at the insinuation. Freshly-bred and scented strongly of chipmunk, she glanced at the omnipresent painting of her brawny, wandering mate. Whose bed are you sleeping in tonight, my lion? In what faraway land? Well, no matter. We can both maintain the illusion until we're grey. But the fact of the matter is, you've taken me for granted. And, because of that, someone else is taking me in your own den.

Your loss is my gain. _ _