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Chapter 12: Reign

Monday and Tuesday were consumed by interviewing officers to replace those lost in

the cultists' raid. By Vulpinevan law, all officers had to attend police academy, a three year

program where they were educated in Vulpinevan law, psychology, and sociology as well as

best practices in policing with an emphasis on de-escalation. Rita supposed that all of these

things were very valuable for the officers to know, but she did find it somewhat inconvenient. All

of the newly graduated cadets she interviewed were brimming with a deep sense of

responsibility to the community. The first few were unduly surprised when she noted that their

primary responsibility was to her, their employer, and she dropped the question after the third

interview. Ultimately, she picked those who seemed best for the job, with particular attention to

their record at the academy and character references. It was a tedious process, and she

regretted having decided to take on the task by the time it was done.

However, now it was Wednesday, and her very first court had been scheduled for that

afternoon. Rita stopped to inspect her dais-raised throne in the back center of the vaulted entry

hall as she entered the building. Her metallic golden gown shimmered in the warm morning

sunlight that shone through the rows of windows and formed elongated parallelograms across

the white marble floor. The bottom of the gown rippled around her ankles as she regally

sauntered up the indigo carpet to the high-backed maple throne atop its pink marble dais.

Turning, she carefully sat on the maroon cushioned seat and leaned back, stretching her

unsleeved forearms out in front of her on the smooth, varnished arms of the chair.

Gazing over the empty hall in front of her, she imagined it filled with courtiers and

supplicants, each in elegant formal attire or humble homespun garments as befitting their

stations. She closed her amber eyes as she indulged in the fantasy: not only lowlier species but

other red foxes made up her retinue, other nobles: counts and lords, baronesses and dames.

Even patronizing fools like Count Dubois would bow and scrape before her exalted majesty!

Rita started and her eyes popped open as a low growl issued from nearby, "Fancy. I

guess you're ready for your party or whatever you called it this afternoon, huh, Your Grace?"

Rita turned her head to eye the puma, Felicia, standing to the right of her dais, with a

severe gaze, "Royal court is no party. It is essential, the very nitty-gritty of operating a kingdom."

Felicia responded with, what Rita found to be, a somewhat mocking smirk, "As you say,

Your Grace."

"Did you let Terrance and Heather know I wish to speak with them?" Rita returned

haughtily.

"The weasel is on it," Felicia replied placidly.

"Pine marten, and his name is Edgar," Rita reminded tersely.

Felicia smirked again, "As you say, Your Grace."

Rita held back a huff of annoyance and, turning away from the cat, rose from her throne

and strode down the dais and toward the marble stairs on her left without offering the puma a

second glance. She could hear the cat padding behind her, surprisingly softly given her size.

Rita didn't turn back to confirm the mocking grin she suspected was plastered across the

feline's face. While Felicia did as she was told and certainly served as an imposing presence to

dissuade any would-be attackers, she was nothing like Rita's adoring Boots had been. Rita was

pleased she wouldn't be joining her at the estate when this was all over.

Terrance and Heather were standing patiently in front of her desk when they reached

Rita's office. Rita offered them a friendly smile, which the gray fox and squirrel both returned,

though they glanced at Felicia a bit nervously. Edgar peeked up from behind her desk and

quickly ducked back down upon spotting the puma.

"Guard the door if you would, Felicia," Rita instructed, glancing back at the enormous

cat.

"Don't you think I should stay by your side, Your Grace?" Felicia asked amusedly. She

eyed Terrance with mock suspicion, "This one looks shifty."

The gray fox shuffled his feet uncomfortably.

"I'll be quite alright with my friends. Guard the door."

The puma grinned at Heather and Terrance again before turning on the pad of her foot,

stepping back out of the office, and softly closing the door behind her.

Heather and Terrance eyed the door uncomfortably once she'd left.

"My apologies, Dears, she was the best I could find on such short notice," Rita

addressed the council members.

Terrance shook his head, "No, it's alright, Your Grace. What was it you wanted to

discuss with us?"

"One moment!"

Rita quickly trotted to the other side of her desk, eyed Edgar cowering behind it

exasperatedly, and withdrew a forest green three-ring binder from the lower right side drawer.

She turned the binder toward Terrance and Heather and slid it out to the edge of her desk. The

red squirrel stepped forward, took the binder, and began to flip through it while Terrance

watched over her shoulder.

"These are my ideas for how to engender greater trust and friendship between the

predators and prey of Maplesburg," Rita noted.

"I'm not so sure about this one. Offspring exchange, Your Grace?" Heather responded

concernedly. "I doubt many parents will be comfortable with that."

"Also, I doubt many of the smaller prey could handle predator children," Terrance added.

Heather gave him an annoyed look, "They'd be perfectly capable, Terrance."

Terrance dipped his head apologetically, "I merely meant because of the size difference,

Heather. Even the youngest predators might not fit in the typical murine home, for example."

"That's true enough," Heather allowed.

"Look through some of the other ideas," Rita suggested nonchalantly.

"This one looks quite doable," Terrance chirped after they'd perused the binder a few

seconds more. "Community potlucks should be simple to organize."

"Hmm, I agree with you there, Terrance," Heather replied. "But given the differences in

diets, I doubt it will do much to bring the community together. Anything centered around food

would tend to naturally segregate." She looked up at Rita apologetically, "I don't think it's a bad

idea, Your Grace. I just don't think it will be as effective as we'd like."

"I quite agree with your assessment," Rita replied. "Look at the next one."

Heather flipped the page, "Visit a neighbor," she read the title.

The red squirrel and gray fox scanned the page.

"I see, Your Grace," Heather replied hesitantly. "It does address some of our concerns

about the offspring exchange. It seems a bit one-sided though. Your proposal is that each adult

prey should visit a predator home for a few days to a week, correct? Predators would have to

take on multiple prey or-"

"I felt one prey at a time would be best," Rita interjected.

Heather nodded slowly, "You don't think predators would resent being forced to house

prey for up to a month with no compensation?"

"Predators will gladly accept such a responsibility for the good of Maplesburg," Terrance

rejoined. "I'm more concerned prey won't be comfortable living among predators for that long.

It's one thing to visit for the day, but do you think many prey will be comfortable sleeping in a

predator's home?"

Heather eyed him irritatedly, "Prey aren't so fearful that they can't handle themselves for

a few nights, unless you think predators won't be able to control themselves."

"We're not beasts!" Terrance protested. "The prey will be perfectly safe, safer than usual

even!"

"I'd say it's settled then!" Rita chirped. "Terrance, arrange a press conference to

announce the policy. Heather, work out the details with the rest of the Council."

The squirrel and gray fox exchanged a surprised glance.

"We'll get on it, Your Grace," Heather stated.

"Thank you, Heather," Rita replied graciously. "As always, the two of you are a great

help to me."

Terrance dipped his head respectfully, "It's a pleasure to be of service."

The two council members left the office, and Rita glanced down at Edgar, who was still

crouched down, cowering beside her chair.

"Felicia!" Rita called to the door.

The door opened, and the puma poked her head in, "Yes, Your Grace?"

"Is Franz here yet?"

"He is."

"Let him watch the door and take Edgar back to the hotel room. He doesn't seem well."

Edgar looked up at her, trembling in terror, "Y-Your Grace?" he squeaked.

Rita ignored him as the puma strode into the office. She nodded toward where Edgar

was hiding, and the gigantic cat crouched down to seize the pine marten around the middle in

one massive hand. Edgar whimpered but didn't struggle as he was lifted from the floor. Felicia

stalked out of the office with the pine marten held out in front of her at chest level. Rita sighed

and shook her head exasperatedly. She wondered if the pine marten had become even more

skittish in his time away from her. He hadn't even been captured by the cultists! There was no

excuse for such fearful behavior around the larger predator.

Only a few minutes later, Terrance hurried back into the room, "Your Grace! I called the

channel five station!"

"Thank you, Terrance. When-"

"They said Ferdinand Gamboa needs to speak with you! Urgently!"

Rita blinked at the tod in surprise, "Did they really? Whatever about? Old Ferdie is doing

well, I hope."

The tod seemed confused as to how to respond, "I-I didn't ask, Your Grace; about Mr.

Gamboa's health, I mean. They said it's a delicate matter surrounding your noble personage.

They didn't go into further detail."

"I suppose I shall have to attend to whatever it is then," Rita decided. "I only hope my

court shan't be delayed. Where are we meeting?"

"They asked you to meet Mr. Gamboa at the studio as soon as possible."

"Very well, tell Miguel to meet me at the front."

She stood from her desk and trotted past Terrance to the door. She nodded to Franz,

and the badger followed her toward the stairs. Terrance scurried out of the office and down the

hall behind them. Rita and the badger soon arrived at the front doors of the hall. Miguel had not

yet arrived with the car. Rita turned her attention to her bodyguard, inspecting his black jacket,

white shirt, and yellow tie. Rita lifted the tie and inspected what appeared to be a coffee stain on

one edge. The larger carnivore, who was a head taller than her and roughly half again her

weight, shifted uncomfortably.

"I presume this is an old stain unless you changed your shirt," Rita remarked.

"I-it is, Your Grace," Franz stammered.

"You realize your appearance reflects on me as well, yes?"

"Y-yes, Your Grace."

"Then I expect you won't wear soiled clothes in my presence again," Rita concluded.

"No, Your Grace."

Rita turned her attention back to the door, watching the street through the glass. At last,

Miguel arrived driving a silver sedan, his own vehicle as Rita hadn't had time to send for one of

hers. Rita glanced at Franz, who hurriedly opened the door, and then trotted down the cement

stairs to the curb. Miguel hopped out, and the fluffy silver tabby bounded around the car to open

the back door on Rita's side, bowing gracefully as she climbed in. Franz climbed into the seat in

front of her as Miguel returned to the driver's seat.

The cat's bright blue eyes peeked at her through the rearview mirror, "Got an interview

with five, eh, Your Grace? Must make you nervous, bein' on tv. Though maybe you're used to

that kinda thing; be shakin' in my fur myself."

"It's more of a personal call really. I've been meaning to speak with Old Ferdie, but it

seems he has something urgent to tell me."

The cat grinned toothily in the mirror, "Know old Gamboa then, do you? Old friend or," he

let the sentence hang suggestively.

"I don't know him at all, actually," Rita corrected. "You might simply say I've appreciated

his reporting over the years. You know the way to the studio, I assume?"

"Got it in my phone."

"Let's get going then," Rita directed conclusively.

Taking the hint from her tone, the tabby started the car.

The drive across town took about ten minutes. Miguel dropped Rita and Franz in front of

the red brick studio and took the car to park it in the private lot. The white bull terrier guarding

the door immediately recognized Rita and bowed low, his broad snout nearly touching the

ground while his short white tail poked up from behind his black uniform top. At half height, he

still came to Rita's shoulder.

He hastily shot back up and saluted, "Your Grace! It's an honor, Your Grace!"

Rita smiled indulgently at the flustered dog, "Thank you, Dear. Ferdie is waiting for me, I

take it?"

"Yes, Your Grace!"

"Show us the way if you would then."

The bull terrier hurriedly opened the heavy door, "This way, Your Grace! Just up the

stairs."

Rita gave him another winning smile and trotted in with Franz lumbering close behind.

Immediately, an alarm screamed. Franz and the dog both nearly leapt out of their fur. Rita

glanced at the flashing red lights above the door.

"Have we upset something?" she queried curiously.

"S-Sorry, Your Grace! We just had that installed, for extra security, you understand," the

terrier stammered. He turned to Franz, "You're not carrying anything metal are you, Sir? I

assure you Her Grace will be safe, so if you'd leave any weapons in the car-"

"I believe that was me," Rita cut him off.

The terrier looked down at her in surprise.

Rita unzipped her shiny black clutch and withdrew Judith's knife, smiling amusedly at the

dog and badger's shocked expressions. "I can leave this in the car if you think it's necessary."

"Er, th-that won't be necessary, Your Grace," the dog answered anxiously.

Rita returned the knife to her clutch, "Let's not keep Ferdie waiting then."

The terrier showed them upstairs to a room with a gray rectangular conference table and

green office chairs. Ferdinand Gamboa was nervously pacing around the table and jumped as

Rita and Franz entered.

"Y-Your Grace! Th-thank you for coming on such short notice! I, I hate to bother you,

but-"

Rita held up her hand to silence the peevishly mewling feline. "It's no problem, Dear. It's

best you alert me at the first sign of trouble. You said it's a delicate matter, yes?"

"Y-Yes, Your Grace!"

Rita turned to Franz, "Wait outside the door if you would. I'll be safe here with Old

Ferdie."

The badger stepped back out to wait in the hall with the bull terrier, quietly closing the

door behind him. Rita turned back to examine the corpulent black and white cat; she grinned

wolfishly as she ran her eyes over his marshmallowy form. The image of the folding knife tucked

in her purse burned in her consciousness, and her fingers itched to grasp the weapon. Hungrily,

she advanced a step toward the nervous feline. She'd been waiting years to have this whinging

excuse for a predator at her mercy!

"Y-Your Grace?" he whined.

Rita stopped herself and took a deep breath to quench her rising bloodlust. She couldn't

kill him now, not with his guard just outside the door. She couldn't even trust Franz to take her

side if he saw the bloody knife in her hand. Patience, you'll get him someday, she scolded

herself. Brushing aside the last vestiges of her murderous urges, she gave him a friendly smile.

"Ferdie, Ferdie, Ferdie," she tutted scoldingly, wryly shaking her head. "You should have

come to visit me in all these years. There's always a place for you at the estate, you know."

The cat blinked his yellow eyes, staring at her in confusion, "There is? I, er, we haven't

met before, have we, Your Grace?"

"No, but after watching you every morning, let's just say you've piqued my interest," Rita

answered airily. "I'd be delighted to entertain you for an evening."

"I-I'll consider it, thank you, Your Grace."

Rita smiled toothily again, resisting a giggle. She took another deep breath to calm her

excitement. "Now, what is it you needed to tell me?" she asked briskly.

The cat's confused visage returned to its nervous conformation, "I-I wouldn't have

bothered you with this except for what I saw this morning. We, yesterday, we had some visitors.

Um, it's difficult to explain, but you see, they'd visited before. I, I kept a skeptical mind of course,

but what they said," he stopped, painfully trying to figure out how to continue.

"Take your time, Dear," Rita soothed.

"Th-they said some t-truly slanderous things about you, Your Grace," the cat whined. "A-

and this morning, I-I don't know if you've seen it--it's gaining some attention--but they've

uploaded a video. I-I watched the whole thing, and i-it's even worse than what they said before."

Rita frowned, "I'd best see it then. Show me the video."

The rotund cat withdrew his phone from the pocket of his powder blue jacket and, after

poking at the screen a few seconds, offered it to Rita. Ellie's dour expression greeted her as she

accepted the phone, and Rita couldn't resist an amused smile. These two? What were her pets

up to now? She touched the screen to get the video to play.

"Rita Belmont is a murderer," Ellie began bluntly. "She's the monster who viciously

murdered Daniel Planter, Bartholomew Potter, and the other prey whose mutilated bodies have

been found around Maplesburg in the past months."

Ferdinand whimpered nervously, and Rita glanced up at him before returning her gaze

to the video.

"You may have heard of me as well as my partner: we're the private inspectors who

disappeared last month, presumed murdered by the same serial killer. We weren't killed, but we

were captured. It was a horrific experience, but I'll recount what I can. Everyone needs to know."

She paused briefly before continuing, "We'd been investigating the murders for weeks. Finally,

our investigations led us to the Duchess' estate. We didn't know what we were walking into, if

we had," Ellie paused and shook her head sadly. After a moment, she looked directly into the

camera, her brown eyes burning with resolve, "We were there when the Duchess murdered

Bartholomew Potter." She sighed sadly, turning her gaze down, "There was nothing we could do

for him. We can't say how sorry we are to his wife Gretchen, who asked us to find him. If only

we'd suspected the Duchess," she let the sentence hang with another morose shake of her

head.

"After that, she tortured us. You might be wondering how it is we're alive when so many

other decent people were butchered by this witch. In a way, we were lucky; the Duchess' own

depravity is what spared us. When she couldn't force my partner to eat me," the camera briefly

swung toward Jason at the wheel of the car, who looked embarrassed to be on video. "She

decided to torment us other ways, too terrible to mention. Perhaps if there's ever a trial, every

monstrous thing she's done will come to light." Ellie paused again, "Ultimately, she decided to

let us live as her slaves. It was miserable, but at least we had each other. It was only the

cultists' attack on her estate that allowed us to escape." Ellie glanced off screen toward Jason.

"We tried to tell all of this to the media, but. But the Duchess is a 'hero' now, and they didn't

want to listen." Ellie glared into the camera, "She's not a hero. Everyone but especially prey

need to know that. She's dangerous. She shouldn't be left alone with prey; no one should trust

her."

"Please share this video and tell any prey you know what I've said. Even if you don't

believe me, just stay safe. Don't let her title fool you; she's as vicious as the terrorists who she's

supplanted. If you can, stay away until she's gone. We were in Maplesburg for a few days, but

now we're leaving for our own safety. I hope this video spreads, and I hope no more prey are

murdered by this monster. Stay safe."

The video ended, and Rita handed Ferdie back his phone. She glanced at his fearful

expression and realized he was waiting for a reaction. Am I meant to be angry? Distraught?

Shocked? Annoyed? Rita decided to try the second one. Turning away toward the door, she

choked out a heavy sob.

"I-I'm sorry, Your Grace! I didn't want to show you that!" the cat cried.

Rita heard him rapidly padding over the carpet, and then he was beside her, his left

hand grasping her right.

"I, I'm sure no one believes it! It's terrible! No one would think-"

"It's worse than that!" Rita wailed. Horrified, confused, not quite hysterical. She turned

her head away as she forced out some tears to wet her cheeks and make her natural black

eyeliner glisten. "Th-they did stay with me. I just thought," she ended with another sob leaving

the rest for the cat's mind to finish.

"Y-you know them then?" he meowed worriedly, "They were with you all that time?"

She turned toward the cat, who was gazing up at her with an expression of

consternation and confusion. "Ellie and Jason, yes. They were dear to me. N-not at first--they

did show up accusing my guard of murder--but I thought we'd reached an understanding. I

even thought they'd begun to care a bit for me too."

Ferdinand squeezed her hand, "I-I'm sorry, Your Grace," he whined in his typical peevish

tone. "I wish I didn't have to show you, but, but I was afraid it might blow up. And then you'd be

blindsided when you're already so busy, and-"

"You did the right thing," Rita cut him off. "I needed to know, even if it's hurtful to be

betrayed by those you care for."

"I, I think you should address this," the cat advised hesitantly. "Especially since they did

stay with you, you should give your version."

Rita gave him a little smile and wiped her eyes with her free hand, finishing with a wet

little sniff. "Thank you, Ferdie. I appreciate your assistance in this matter; I haven't much

experience with public relations."

"You wouldn't know that from your press conferences so far, Your Grace," Ferdie

complimented ingratiatingly. "You're a natural in front of the camera."

Rita let her smile brighten just a bit, "Thank you for saying so, Dear. How would you

suggest I handle this? I wish to deal with this ugliness quickly so that I can get on with my plan

for healing Maplesburg. The last things we need are accusations and division."

"We can do an interview, Your Grace. You can give your side and then tell everyone

how you're working to get us through this crisis." He gave Rita what she supposed passed for a

comforting smile on his sour features, "Everything will be alright, Your Grace."

Without warning, Rita yanked him into a hug, squeezing him tightly. She tucked his head

under her jaw with his pointy ears to either side. Ferdie squirmed embarrassedly but didn't

verbally protest and in fact returned the hug, though very lightly. He was, perhaps, even

squishier than Rita had imagined. How does he carry his weight with such a pitiful lack of

muscle tone? Rita couldn't resist squeezing him a bit harder, just enough to be uncomfortable

for the soft feline. Finally, she released him, and he quickly stepped back, avoiding eye contact

by turning toward the door.

"I-I'll show you to our interview studio, Your Grace," he meowed embarrassedly.

Rita followed him out the door and down the hall, passing between their respective

guards, who followed.

"Tell Sarah we're doing an interview with Her Grace," Ferdinand instructed.

The bull terrier turned and hurried back the way they'd come.

Rita glanced back at Franz and smiled to let him know everything was alright. Whether

or not he'd heard the video, he'd certainly heard her exchange with Ferdie. The badger returned

the glance, but his striped visage remained stoic.

Ferdie led her into a room with a black faux leather armchair and matching sofa across a

coffee table. Rita trotted around the cat and seated herself on the edge of the armchair with her

hands folded in the lap of her shimmering golden gown. Ferdie hesitated a moment before

taking the sofa himself. Rita kept her snout toward the door but eyed the cat amusedly out of the

corner of her eye. It wasn't as if she hadn't seen enough channel five interviews to know she'd

taken his seat. After a few minutes, a brown bird fluttered into the room followed by a sturdy

otter rolling a camera. Rita turned her attention back to Ferdie whilst they got everything ready.

"You're aware I'm holding court for the first time this afternoon, of course," Rita stated

conversationally.

"I am, Your Grace."

"I'd love to see you there. You don't need to have anything to request, but if you do think

of anything, you're welcome to submit a petition." She finished with a friendly smile.

"Er, I'd be there if I could, Your Grace," he replied apologetically. "I'll be needed here,

unfortunately."

"Well, any day you can come will be fine. We could even do dinner afterwards if you

like."

"Th-thank you, Your Grace. I'll let you know if I have time," he returned embarrassedly.

The bird fluttered over, landing on the arm of the sofa, "We're ready when you are,

Ferdinand." She cocked her head, adorned with a red beret, toward Rita, "Nice to meet you,

Your Grace." She took off and swooped back over by the camera.

"That was Sarah," Ferdinand meowed. "She coordinates production. I'd be lost without

her. Even during the evacuation, she didn't leave. I told her she should, but she wouldn't. We

were barricaded in here together. Fortunately, we had enough to eat."

Rita smiled toothily, "It's good to have people we can count on."

Ferdinand glanced at the camera to let them know they were ready, and the bird waved

a wing. The cat turned toward Rita and put on a comically grave expression. Rita scootched

back on her seat and crossed her left foot over her right, resisting the impulse to leap onto the

table and slap him.

"Today I'm joined by an esteemed guest; I'm sure you all recognize Her Grace, the

Duchess of Gooseberry," the cat began solemnly. "Her Grace has graciously offered us some of

her valuable time to address a slanderous video that appeared online this morning. Thank you

for being here, Your Grace."

"Thank you, Ferdie. I want to get this unpleasantness out of the way and not allow it to

disrupt my vital work with City Council," Rita responded.

"I assume most of our viewers have seen the video," Ferdinand stated. "For those who

haven't, a pair of private inspectors, until now thought dead, released a vile video this morning

accusing Her Grace of murder among other unthinkable acts. The two of them visited our studio

yesterday and made similar deranged accusations against both Her Grace and our courageous

chief of police, Lily Schulz. You say you know the inspectors in question, yes, Your Grace?"

"I do."

"And how would you describe them?"

Rita pondered this a moment, "I suppose they have little respect for authority, but I truly

didn't think they'd release such an unsettling video. We had our differences, but I believed the

three of us could be friends someday."

"How did you meet them, Your Grace?"

"As I told you, Ferdie, they arrived at my house uninvited and accused my bodyguard of

murder." She paused and then murmured sadly, "Poor Wolfgang, he was killed protecting me

from the terrorists along with Johann and Boots and," she turned away from the camera, tears--

genuine now--beginning to well in the corners of her eyes. "I'm sorry. I've lost so many people,

and, and now," she didn't finish the statement.

"You told me you'd begun to care for these inspectors, yes, Your Grace?"

Rita turned back to Ferdie, blinking her eyes to allow her tears, shining in the studio

lights, to drop down onto her lap. She smiled weakly. Self-conscious but not angry, the baffled

victim of cruel deception. "I did. One thing they said was true: I did capture them. I had good

reason to. I tried to convince them Wolfgang was innocent, but then Ellie drew a gun on me. I

had no choice but to confine such dangerous animals. They resented it, of course, but I tried to

make them comfortable. After a time, I dared to believe they'd come to accept what I'd done,

and I even became quite attached to them, as I told you. I still can't believe they'd attack me so

viciously. I could have left them for the terrorists to find, but I helped them escape. Especially

now, when we all need to come together after this terrible crisis, I can't believe they'd make

such hideous, divisive accusations."

Ferdinand shook his head slowly, "I can't understand it either. Perhaps it's a political

ploy. You said they had little respect for authority. Do you think they could be some type of

anarchists?"

"That's very possible," Rita was happy to allow. "They never expressed such radical

views to me, but I suppose they wouldn't."

"Some have speculated that the killings they were investigating were in fact perpetrated

by the same terrorists who attacked Maplesburg. What are your thoughts on that supposition?"

Rita pretended to consider the proposition carefully before answering, "That doesn't

seem likely to me. The terrorists preferred to eat their victims; I never saw them torture. I'll make

sure Officer Schulz gives these terrible crimes all the attention they deserve when we're certain

the greater threat has been eliminated."

"It's reassuring to have someone with your experience in charge in these trying times,"

Ferdie complimented unctuously. "Can you tell us more about your plans to set things right after

this disaster?"

"I don't want to take all the credit as I've worked closely with City Council, but in addition

to holding royal court--starting this afternoon as I'm sure your viewers are aware--I've devised

a new form of training that should help foster a greater sense of community between predators

and prey. This new training builds on the training all predators receive from infancy, but it's a bit

different. Heretofore, all training has focused on predators, teaching them to understand and

control their instincts and to respect the sensibilities of prey. All of that is incredibly valuable, but

one thing was always neglected: prey themselves. Certainly, predators get to meet and even

befriend prey at school and work, but unless it's a particularly close friendship prey always

remain somewhat inscrutable. The new training solves this in the only way possible: it forces

predators and prey into close proximity, through cohabitation."

Ferdie blinked at this final sentence. "Cohabitation? I'm not sure I follow, Your Grace.

You want predators and prey to live in the same homes?"

"Only temporarily. Each prey will visit a predator's home for about a week, at the end of

which all involved will have a greater appreciation for the capabilities of the other. Predators will

see prey can take care of themselves, and prey will see that predators are civilized animals

capable of impeccable hospitality."

"I, uh, suppose that could be effective, Your Grace," Ferdie conceded uncertainly. "But

do you think prey will really be comfortable going home with predators after what's just

happened?"

"We all need to learn to trust each other again," Rita stated. "Those few terrorists were

an aberration. Predators want to show prey they can be trusted, and prey want to show

predators they're not a problem to be tiptoed around. Besides, think of all the friendships this

cohabitation will spawn. We'll make Maplesburg such a tight-knit community that nothing like

this will ever be able to happen again!"

"That's what we all want," Ferdie agreed anxiously. "This must never happen again, no

more killing!"

"I'm glad we agree. Preventing another such incident is our top priority."

"Is there anything else you'd like to tell people, Your Grace?"

Rita turned and gave the camera her best winning smile, "I just want to say what a

pleasure it's been to work with City Council so far. I know my methods may seem heavy-pawed

to some, but I've been working with your elected officials to ensure every possible concern is

accounted for. Please cooperate with us to ensure a speedy return to normality."

"I'm sure we will, Your Grace. Thank you for coming on our program."

"It was a pleasure, Ferdie."

"And that's a wrap!" the bird chirped.

Ferdie relaxed on the couch and released a sigh of relief. The otter shut off the camera,

and the bird fluttered over to perch on the edge of the coffee table.

"Good job, Ferdinand, and you, Your Grace," the bird chirped, cocking her head toward

each of them in turn. "We have time for a break for lunch before our afternoon programming. If

you'd like to join us, I'm sure we could have something delivered, Your Grace."

"Thank you for the offer, but I really must be returning to City Hall," Rita replied

graciously. "Perhaps another time."

The bird shrugged her wings and took off, landing to hop-skip out the door.

Rita turned back to the slouching feline, who looked as if he'd already sprouted roots into

the faux leather couch. Again, Rita had to restrain herself from pouncing on and dispatching the

loathsome feline. If only being an affront to predator dignity were a capital offense! Rita could

have declared it such, but she doubted Frederick would have let such a decision stand.

Besides, the bloated cat was more useful to her alive than dead at the moment. She hopped up

from her seat.

"Thank you for your help, Ferdie. Franz and I can show ourselves out," Rita concluded.

The cat pushed himself up and slid onto the floor, stepping around the table and offering

his hand. "It was a pleasure to meet you, Your Grace."

Rita shook his hand perfunctorily before reminding him, "Don't forget to come visit like I

said, for dinner in Maplesburg and then later at the estate. I'll be terribly disappointed if you can't

find the time."

"I'll make it a priority, Your Grace," he replied embarrassedly.

Rita headed for the door, picking up Franz in the hall. They returned to their car

unescorted and returned to City Hall.

* * *

The first day of royal court was neither a wild success nor a disappointment.

Supplicants, at first, seemed confused as to what to do, milling around in the entry hall until Rita

instructed Miguel to line them up before her throne. Felicia and Franz stood guard to her right

and left as the long-furred silver tabby escorted each in turn to kneel on the indigo carpet in front

of the pink marble dais.

Many of them simply wanted to thank Rita for what she'd done, and she accepted their

praises with conspicuous humility. She had just dismissed the fifth such loyal subject when

someone darted toward her throne. Felicia was there in a flash, snarling, dagger-like fangs

bared. The offending bobcat kitten squeaked in terror.

"Felicia! Stand down! Can't you see it's a kitten?!" Rita yelped.

The puma glanced back at her dourly but then stepped back beside her throne with a

warning growl at the kitten.

Rita regarded the trembling spotted feline and his shocked mother apologetically, "Poor

little Dear." She patted her lap with both hands, "Come sit with Auntie Rita. Tell me what you

need."

Hesitantly, the kitten crept up the dais. Rita stood and picked him up, sitting back in the

maroon cushioned chair with the kitten curled on her lap. She petted his soft fur until he seemed

recovered from his scare.

"That's better," she crooned. "Now, what is it you want? You seemed anxious to speak

with me."

The kitten looked toward his mother, "Mom has it."

The adult bobcat withdrew a folded piece of paper from her white tote and held it out

toward Rita. Rita nodded to Franz, and he retrieved the paper, which Rita unfolded to reveal a

crude crayon drawing of what Rita assumed was an animal figure of some sort.

"I drew a picture of you!" the kitten squeaked proudly.

Rita gave him an indulgent smile, "It's lovely. May I keep it?"

The kitten nodded enthusiastically. Rita refolded the picture and tucked it into the bosom

of her dress.

"Thank you. What was your name, Dear?"

"Colin," he piped.

"Thank you, Colin. I think your mother would like you back now."

The kitten jumped down and bounded down the dais to his mother who hugged him

tight.

"Is there anything you needed?" Rita asked her.

"No, thank you, Your Grace."

The bobcat's left, and the next supplicant, a light brown chihuahua in a red sundress

stepped forward.

"I have something to ask, Your Grace!" the dog yapped anxiously.

Rita grinned toothily. Finally! She'd been waiting to enthrall the public with her sagacious

leadership. "Ask away!" she chirped.

"I, I'm sure you've noticed, Your Grace, and I can't help but think this whole thing is a

judgement of some kind. We have an epidemic, Your Grace, an epidemic of--I hate to say this

to your royal person--but it's an epidemic of perversion, Your Grace, degeneracy! I know Your

Grace can-"

"I'm not quite certain I follow," Rita cut off the rambling chihuahua. "What do you mean

by perversion?"

"Predators and prey!" she yapped. "Together, in bed, Your Grace! I support interspecies

couples, but-"

Rita held up her hand, regarding the dog sternly, "I've heard enough!" she barked.

"There's no place for such bigotry in Vulpineva! I suggest you take yourself and your

discriminatory views elsewhere!"

The chihuahua stared at her open-mouthed and flabbergasted, "B-b-but!"

"Felicia, escort this vile creature from the premises!" Rita commanded.

The puma started toward the dog, but the chihuahua turned and bolted out the door. Rita

watched the door swing shut with a contemptuous glare before fiercely turning her gaze over

her gathered subjects.

"Does anyone else have a similar complaint? I suggest those who do leave now."

Ears and tails flicked nervously; feet shuffled uncertainly, but no one left the line. Even if

they agreed with the chihuahua, they probably didn't want to admit it, even silently.

Rita eyed the next person in line, a blue jay who ruffled her bright blue wings under

Rita's probing gaze.

"M-my question is about c-cigarette smoking, Y-Your Grace," the bird squawked

apprehensively.

"A nasty habit," Rita stated. "Go on."

The blue jay continued with a bit more confidence, "I-I believe it should be banned in

public, Your Grace. I can't tell you how many times I've stepped outside for a breath of fresh air

only to walk into a cloud of smoke. It's disgusting, and I'm sure you know it causes cancer. So I

thought-"

"Excellent idea. I don't know why it hasn't been done sooner. Smoking is now banned in

Maplesburg," Rita pronounced.

The blue jay blinked at her, "It is? J-just like-"

"Just like that! See how efficient this form of government is?" Rita returned with a flourish

of her hands.

A few of her supplicants chuckled, and Rita looked over them with a playful but superior

smile, sharing a joke they didn't realize was at their expense.

"Was there anything else?" Rita asked the blue jay.

"No, Your Grace, thank you." The bird bowed then hop-skipped to the door.

The next supplicant was a gray-whiskered otter in an open red velvet vest; he stepped

forward and bowed deeply.

"What do you need, good citizen?" Rita prompted.

"Nothing I need, Your Grace, though the last one got me thinkin'," he chirped gruffly.

"'Ave you e'er had misfortune with chewing gum, Your Grace?"

Rita blinked a bit bemusedly, "Chewing gum? No, I can't say I have."

"Hope that you ne'er do, Your Grace, but many a time, I've stepped in a wad what some

inconsiderate creature spit. Road, sidewalk, even in the woods, Your Grace, I've stepped in it.

Takes days to get all out of your fur."

"That does sound unpleasant," Rita replied sympathetically. "What do you think I should

do?"

"I was thinkin' you could ban the stuff, Your Grace. You can't stop critters from bein'

inconsiderate, but you can get rid of the stuff they spit."

Rita pondered the suggestion a moment. Banning chewing gum seemed rather extreme.

"They also stick it on things, Your Grace, anything at all. World'd be covered in the stuff

if someone didn't scrape it off," the otter added.

"Perhaps it's more trouble than it's worth," Rita conceded. "Alright, it's banned."

The otter bowed again, "Thank you, Your Grace!" He waddled away.

The next person, a male cardinal hopped forward anxiously, "Your Grace, I want to talk

to you about skateboarding!"

Rita nodded, "Go on."

* * *

Rita's court was scheduled for two hours, so promptly at three, she stood, and allowed

her guards to escort her past the remaining supplicants with a wave and a reminder to return

the next day. Rita returned to her office. Her guards waited outside. First thing, she phoned the

chief of police.

After a ring and a half, the phone was answered by the surly bobcat's growl, "Hello?

Your Grace?"

"My dear Officer Schulz! All is going well with the newest additions to your force, I hope,"

Rita chirped cheerfully.

"Well enough," the bobcat growled grumpily. "Is that it?"

"No, I have a few new laws I need you to take care of, nothing that should cause you too

much trouble."

There was a lengthy pause and then a worried, "New laws, Your Grace?"

"Just a few. Let's see: I've banned cigarettes and chewing gum. I also banned

skateboarding except in designated areas. I changed littering from a fine to a felony, and," she

paused to remember. "Oh yes, I also banned public use of profanity, particularly in written form."

There was an even lengthier pause followed by a strained, "And what do you expect me

to do to enforce those edicts?"

"Arrest anyone who breaks them, of course. You can let them off with a warning at first, I

suppose, but after a few days, people should be accustomed to the new rules."

"And then?! You want to try people for chewing gum?" the bobcat snapped.

"I'll handle that. There's no reason to tie the courts up with such matters. You give me

the evidence, and I'll decide an appropriate sentence."

The bobcat sighed resignedly, "Fine. Have you announced these laws to anyone else

yet?"

"I'll have another chat with Old Ferdie tomorrow to take care of it. You can withhold

making arrests until after it airs."

"Right. Is that all?"

"That's all. Have a good afternoon and evening, Officer."

The other end hung up.

The workday was nearly over when Heather and Terrance paid Rita another visit.

Rita smiled at the two Council members fondly as they stepped through the door under

the watchful eye of Felicia, "Is there something I can help you with?"

The red squirrel and gray fox exchanged a worried glance. Heather spoke first, "We've,

uh, been receiving some complaints this afternoon, Your Grace. Some people have been saying

that you've banned skateboarding as, as well as chewing gum?"

"Skateboarding is still allowed in designated areas. Chewing gum is banned though,"

Rita corrected.

Heather frowned, "Why?"

Rita waved a hand dismissively, "It's more trouble than it's worth. We can save a lot of

time scraping it off of things if it's simply illegal. Besides, it makes a terrible mess when people

step in it."

"I, I still don't think we should ban it or skateboarding either," Heather replied. "And I

think you should discuss any potential laws with us."

"I wouldn't want to bother you about every little thing," Rita returned cheerfully. "Focus

on getting ready for your elections; I'll take care of the minor details. I'll let you know if there's

something more important."

"How do you plan to enforce these new laws?" Terrance inquired.

"I've already spoken to Officer Schulz about enforcement. I'll handle the sentencing and

make certain it fits the crime."

"That's the job of the courts," Terrance replied matter-of-factly.

"I'm sure they're busy enough without having to deal with these minor concerns. I'll take

care of it all. If you hear from more people who think the laws go too far, tell them to come

discuss it with me at my daily court. Both of these laws were suggested to me by Maplesburg

citizens; I'm always ready to hear my subjects out."

"You're doing more than I thought you would," Terrance rejoined disconcertedly. "I didn't

realize there would be new laws."

"You did agree I could take charge," Rita reminded mildly. "But I'll let you know if it's

something more important. You can always overturn what I do when your government is

restored."

Heather and Terrance exchanged another worried glance. "I suppose we did agree to

that," Heather conceded. "But we'd appreciate it if you at least run any new laws by us, even if

you feel they're minor concerns."

"If it's a concern, you may attend court to act as my advisor," Rita allowed. "Either or

both of you are welcome."

Heather glanced at Terrance again then replied, "We'll talk it over, but I think one of us

will need to be there. People should know they're still being represented."

"Of course," Rita soothed. "It's very important people believe they have a say. I'll see you

at court then. Did you need anything else?"

"Ferdinand Gamboa wanted to speak with you," Terrance told her.

"Did he? Call and have him transferred to my line. I'll see what he wants."

"He's here, Your Grace. I left him in my office," he clarified.

"Oh! Well, send him in. And I do appreciate your advice. Please don't hesitate to tell me

if you have any other concerns."

Heather nodded, "We will. Have a good evening, Your Grace."

The council members left, and a couple minutes later, Felicia followed Ferdinand inside.

"This tom wants to speak with you," she growled, eyeing the fluffy black and white cat

dangerously.

"Thank you, Felicia. You can wait outside," Rita responded. When Felicia had returned

to the hall and shut the door, Rita gave the news anchor her best winning smile. "So, to what do

I owe this pleasure? I didn't expect to see you again so soon."

The plump cat shifted his feet awkwardly. Rita held her pleasant, unsuspecting smile

though she could guess from his attire why he'd come: his powder blue jacket had been

replaced by a tight-fitting black jacket, white dress shirt, and black bow tie. By the look of it, the

jacket had been purchased when he was significantly thinner, and the only fastened button

looked like it might pop at any moment. Rita watched the cat squirm embarrassedly, restraining

her smile from widening into a wolfish grin.

"I, er, I was wondering, um, I mean, if you wanted, er," he struggled, his ears reddening

by the second.

"Take your time, Dear," she soothed. "It must be awfully important for you to come all the

way here."

"I-I'd like to take you to dinner, Your Grace!" he blurted.

Rita feigned a look of surprise, "Ferdie! Do you really? With little old me? I'm flattered!"

The cat squirmed, his fluffy tail thrashing, "I-if you don't want to, I-"

Rita cut him off, "I'd love to. Do you have a place in mind, or do you prefer the hotel?

They do deliver room service, you know."

Ferdinand spluttered, Ptpah-I, I have a place, Your Grace! I think you'll like it."

Rita hopped up from her seat, "Let's go then! Are we taking your car or mine? I believe

Miguel needs to head home before long, so perhaps it should be yours."

"M-my car, Your Grace. It's out front."

"Very well." Rita trotted around the desk and looped her left arm under the right of the

partially stunned feline. "Lead the way, Ferdie!" she chirped playfully.

Ferdinand recovered his senses and led them out into the hall.

Rita glanced at Felicia and Franz, "Franz, you're coming with us. Felicia, go home and

give those kits a hug for me; I'll see you tomorrow."

The puma frowned, "Are you sure you'll be alright, Your Grace?"

"I'll be fine. I have Franz and Ferdie to protect me. Don't worry."

"Alright, Your Grace, thank you." The puma tromped away.

Ferdie was eyeing Franz nervously, "H-he's coming with us, Your Grace?"

Rita regarded the badger, "Unless you need to head home too, Franz."

Franz shook his striped muzzle.

Rita smiled at the badger then turned back to Ferdinand, "He can sit a few tables away;

it will be quite discreet."

Ferdinand still looked uncomfortable, but he nodded his agreement.

Ferdinand's car was a two-door sports car, neon green. Rita found it unbelievably gaudy.

After Franz squeezed past her seat into the back, Rita got into the front passenger's seat, noting

the white faux leather. Ferdinand drove them across town and stopped outside of a black brick

highrise. Large windows on the ground floor looked into an elegant restaurant with circular

tables of various sizes while the other floors apparently held apartments. A carved wooden sign

above the door read "The Obsidian Crow". Rita hoped this was a reference to the owner and not

the food.

Ferdie hurried around the front of the car to open Rita's door, offering his hand to help

her. Rita took his hand with mock decorum, her sarcastic smirk betraying her amusement.

Ferdinand handed the keys to a swift fox in a red valet jacket while Franz pried himself out of

the cramped back seat. The badger popped out and nearly fell onto his face, stumbling forward.

Rita had to leap out of the way to avoid being trampled. She eyed the badger with annoyance,

and he mumbled an embarrassed apology.

Ferdinand offered Rita his arm, which she accepted, again hooking her left under his

right. A head taller than the cat, she was holding his arm closer to the shoulder than the elbow

as they sauntered through the tinted glass doors of the restaurant. Rita found the entire

spectacle quite ridiculous. She'd barely been able to stop herself from gutting the cat this

morning, and now, she was having dinner with him on what could hardly be considered anything

less than a date.

They were met inside by a magpie in a white bowtie, "Table for three?" he squawked.

"Two and one," Rita corrected. "My associate would like a table a discreet distance from

ours."

The magpie collected three cardstock menus, somewhat miraculously managing to

scoop them under his wing without dropping them. He led Rita and Ferdinand to a small table

near the back of the dining area and seated Franz a couple tables over in the middle. The dining

area was softly lit with a few soft white bulbs hanging in broad, conical black fixtures. Each dark

walnut table had a small candle burning in an ornamental mold, and the floors were also a dark

wood while the walls were painted black.

Rita began to read her menu, which encompassed an eclectic selection of gourmet

dishes. There were several unusual meat offerings including swordfish, shark, chinchilla, and

opossum. There was no poultry on the menu.

"I think we should get some wine, don't you, Ferdie?" Rita suggested.

"Y-yes, Your Grace," he meowed nervously.

"What would you like?"

"You pick, Your Grace."

Rita scanned the listings on the back of the menu, "What were you going to eat?"

"I like the grilled swordfish, Your Grace."

Rita studied the list further, "Hmm, let's get the White Zinfandel then. We'll split the

bottle."

"What are you getting, Your Grace?"

"I was thinking about the roast rabbit. What do you think? Is it good?"

"I-I've never had it, Your Grace. I u-usually get the fish."

"I'll have to be the one to taste it then," Rita decided. "I'd like to see how it measures up

against the real thing."

Ferdinand looked at her worriedly, but he was apparently too nervous to question the

remark. Rita set down her menu, turned her head to scan the restaurant, and then turned back

to the cat with an amused smile.

"It seems we're one of the few people here. Is this place a little secret of yours, or is it

just that expensive?" Rita glanced at the menu again: it did seem pricey, but she didn't have

much context for what other people could afford.

"I-it's usually full, Your Grace. I made a reservation, but I, I guess with everything that's

happened," he shrugged.

"I suppose you're right," Rita replied. "People either haven't returned yet, or they're

staying home. I really must emphasize to everyone that everything is fine now."

"D-did they ever catch the rest of the terrorists, Your Grace?" Ferdinand queried

nervously.

Rita shrugged as if it hardly mattered, which to her, it did not, "Any who escaped will be

long gone by now. I did have something else to speak with you about, but let's wait until we

order."

A raven was taking Franz's order, and when they finished, Rita smiled at the bird, who

strutted over to their table.

"You're ready?" the raven cawed.

"I'll have the roast rabbit with a side salad, and my friend would like the grilled swordfish

and," she paused to look at Ferdinand. "What was your side?"

"Fries, Your Grace."

Rita winced at the embarrassing combination. "We'll also have a bottle of White

Zinfandel," she finished.

"Dressing?" the bird squawked.

It took Rita a moment to realize they meant on her salad, "A light vinaigrette if you have

one."

The raven bobbed their head in what Rita supposed was affirmation, and then the

taciturn bird took the menus and strutted back to the kitchen.

"So, as I was saying, Ferdie. I do have an update for you to report on. I've made some

new laws to improve the tenor of this fine city."

For the first time that evening, Ferdinand looked more intrigued than nervous, "What are

they, Your Grace?"

"Let's see: skateboarding is now limited to designated areas. I banned chewing gum,

cigarettes, and public profanity, and littering is now a felony."

The cat looked at her in confusion for a few awkward moments and then hesitantly

asked, "A-are you making a joke, Your Grace?"

Incensed by the idiotic question, Rita snapped, "I never make jokes on matters of state!"

Alarmed, the cat laid back his ears and cowered in his seat. If he'd hissed at her, Rita

might just have gutted him then and there.

"I-I, I just, erm, th-they, they're very odd laws, Y-Your Grace," he whimpered.

Rita took a deep breath and let it out slowly, closing her eyes so that she wouldn't see

the sniveling feline as she calmed herself. Finally, she opened her eyes to address him in a

measured tone, "These were concerns brought to me by the citizens of Maplesburg. Whether

they make for 'odd laws' is not for me to judge. These were the issues citizens wanted

addressed."

Ferdinand nodded vigorously, seeming eager to move past the matter. "H-have you

enjoyed your stay in Maplesburg so far, Your Grace?"

"I can't say I enjoyed it at first," Rita answered with exaggerated tartness. "Being held

hostage wasn't at all what one would call a pleasant affair!"

The cat winced, "I-I meant, I mean-ow!" his whining was cut off as Rita kicked him under

the table.

"Try not to be quite so thick, Mr. Gamboa!" she scolded. "That was a joke! I've had a

very pleasant time here, my stint in captivity notwithstanding."

"I-I'm glad to hear that, Your Grace," he mewled peevishly.

Rita sighed wearily. This cat was tiresome company. "What made you invite me to

dinner tonight, Ferdie," she asked.

"I-I thought you wanted to, Your Grace," he meowed nervously. "Y-you asked me to-"

"Yes, I'm aware of what I said," Rita cut him off in annoyance. "Why tonight though? Why

not a week from today?"

The cat looked down nervously, actually twiddling his thumbs as he tried to answer! If

I'm not amused, he dies tonight!

"I thought, I thought that, m-maybe you liked me, Your Grace."

Rita stared at the cat in semi-bewilderment. Is this his attempt at a joke? He looked up

shyly, and Rita knew he was serious. She snorted, part derision, part amusement. She let out

half a giggle. Finally, she burst into a raucous guffaw, "Ahahahahaha, ahaha, ahahahaha! Oh

Zeus! Ahaha, ahahahahaha!"

The black and white cat sank down in his seat, "Y-you don't?"

Still laughing, Rita shook her head until finally, she calmed down enough to answer,

"Ferdie, do I like you?" She grinned ferociously, "You make me ravenous!"

The cat fainted and fell right out of his seat, landing with a thud on the floor.

"Oh dear!" Rita gasped, suddenly concerned she'd given him a heart attack! He's not

supposed to get away that easily! She grabbed the napkin from around her silverware and

hurried over to Franz's table, dunking the cloth in his water, "Pardon me, Franz!" She hastened

back to the fallen cat and, crouching beside him, began to bathe his head and ears. "Ferdie?"

she spoke contritely. "Ferdie, are you alright?"

After a moment, the cat opened his yellow eyes and looked at her nervously, "Your

Grace?"

"Thank Zeus," Rita breathed in relief. "I thought I'd quite literally scared you to death!

Can you sit up?"

He nodded, pushing himself up. Rita helped him stand then guided him back into his

seat.

"I'm sorry I frightened you, Ferdie" she apologized. "Were you hurt in your tumble?"

He shook his head, "I'm fine."

Rita gave him a warm smile, "That's good. Now, to answer your question civilly, I'm

afraid you're not quite my type. To be brutally honest, Ferdie, the image of you on top of me isn't

something I can take seriously."

The insides of the cat's ears turned beet red, "I-I understand, Your Grace."

"I assumed there was a Mrs. Gamboa at any rate," she added. "Don't tell me the famous

Ferdinand Gamboa can't find a lover."

"I'm divorced, Your Grace, twice," he murmured embarrassedly.

Rita was hardly surprised. The discussion ended there.

Soon, their dinner arrived. Rita was glad she'd managed to get the cat back in his seat

before the raven returned.

"I don't think we'll be needing the wine," Rita informed the raven. "Mr. Gamboa's had

quite enough excitement for this evening."

The raven eyed the bottle, "Open."

Rita frowned, "Well, let Franz have it then." She nodded toward the badger.

The raven hopped over to his table and set the bottle down with a clunk.

"I'll have ice water," Rita told the bird when they returned, "And I think Mr. Gamboa

would like some herbal tea."

The raven bobbed their head and strutted away.

Rita turned back to the cat, "You do like herbal tea, don't you, Ferdie? I think I've heard

as much."

He nodded his head, looking confused, "Where did-?"

"I have my sources," Rita answered. She smiled knowingly.

The cat seemed to accept this though he would have fainted again if he'd realized the

horrific truth: this was one of the facts Rita had gleaned from the cat's late personal assistant as

she'd tortured him to death!

As they ate their meal, Rita chatted about her estate, describing the quaint pleasures

Ferdinand would be able to enjoy when he visited. Increasingly, the cat seemed to warm to the

idea, and Rita could tell from the desire in his eyes that this was, in no small part, due to his

continued infatuation with her. Sex was certainly a powerful lure, and Rita had no scruples

about using that against her would-be victims. Rather, she enjoyed the irony of seeing them

thirst for her as she thirsted for them in a different way. She might even let the cat have a little of

what he wanted before he met his gruesome end.

When they were finished, Ferdinand paid, and then the swift fox valet brought back

Ferdinand's car. They had to help Franz, who was quite drunk, into the back, and by the time

they arrived at the hotel, he was snoring loudly, curled in the backseat.

Rita got out and gave Ferdinand a wave with her fingers, "We must do this again, Ferdie,

perhaps in a few days or so. Next time will be my treat."

Ferdinand looked back at the sleeping badger worriedly, "What about him?"

"Look after him until he's sober. You can send him home or back here depending on the

time. Goodnight, Ferdie."

"Er, goodnight, Your Grace."

Rita shut her door and trotted up the stairs to the hotel, serene with the knowledge that

Ferdinand had this matter under control.

Rita picked up a package she'd ordered from the reception desk and headed up the

elevator. Upon returning to her room, Rita hung up her dress and took a shower. It wasn't until

she'd dried off, that she began to look for Edgar. She found him under his bed with a blanket

tucked over him. Rita prodded him with a sharp claw, and he jumped.

"Quit sulking, Edgar," she scolded. "This is a lucky night for you."

Edgar poked his head out of the blankets, "It is?" he whined hopefully.

"Yes, I've just received some new toys, and I need help testing them out. Fortunately, I

have my helpful little Edgar, yes?"

Edgar nodded and smiled slightly. Rita got up, and he crawled out from under the bed. In

the main room, Rita took her knife from her clutch and used it to unpack her new toys. Edgar

watched her with nervous excitement. The box contained a bright pink strap-on, a spreader bar,

buckle-on handcuffs, a riding crop, and a ball gag.

"Are you ready to be my little test subject, Edgar?" Rita teased.

Edgar whined and nodded eagerly.

"Lie on the bed, belly down and arms out in front," Rita instructed.

Edgar complied, and she handcuffed him to the head of the bed before shoving the ball

gag between his long fangs and strapping the spreader bar cuffs onto his ankles. She fixed the

strap-on around her own pelvis and collected the riding crop. Standing on the bed next to the

prone Edgar, she ran the faux-leather end of the riding crop down his spine, and he whimpered

in anticipation. She crouched down by his head and dangled a little aluminum packet in front of

his face.

"They even sent me a complimentary sample of lube. Aren't you a lucky pine marten?"

Edgar nodded vigorously. Rita applied the lube to the pointy pink fox dildo while the pine

marten watched and then stood and stepped around behind him. Edgar thrust his rear into the

air, and Rita giggled. Then she grabbed his tail tightly in her left hand, her right holding the

riding crop, and let Edgar have what he wanted.