The high temperatures inside the throne room were stifling. Nyarlothep was experiencing an unprecedented heat wave for the first time in years—Melasia struggled to remember the last time she’d experienced such discomfort in the midst of her rule. Five years? Six?

Two young women stood to her left and right, fanning her with the broad leaves of pawm trees freshly cut from their branches that morning. Sweat trickled down their brows and necks, mirroring Melasia’s glistening skin.

At the edge of the dais stood her stalwart knight, Espada. Shimmering beads collected at the edge of her cropped hairline, trailing down to the hem of her tunic before disappearing into her armor. Melasia watched, entranced, imagining the taste should she catch them with her tongue. Espada’s skin called to hers, begging to be caressed and explored with careful hands.

“Your majesty,” Helena, one of the castle’s stewards, called from the bottom step. “Mai Linh of San Island has arrived.”

Melasia broke her stare from Espada and stood, straightening her heat-deflated posture. “Very good. Please show her in.”

Helena bowed, then hurried across the velvet carpets to the entrance of the throne hall. Espada stood like a stone statue, her gaze never wavering from her post. Melasia wondered if the thoughts of her lover ever wandered—if Espada’s eyes ever slid to their furthest corners to capture the briefest image of her partner.

With careful fingers, Melasia wiped away a glistening line of sweat from her forehead and reset her focus to her guest. It would not do her reputation well to be caught in a daydream. Helena guided a petite young woman across the silver carpets leading to the throne. Mai Linh’s black hair was swept back from her face, and the layers were set in thin, alternating patterns that swirled together to form the appearance of a rose. Her ears were adorned with floral jewelry, and her black dress echoed a similar motif with stitched silver petals and dark green leaves.

“It is good to meet face to face, Mai Linh,” Melasia said as her guest approached. “I understand that much is lost through correspondence.”

Mai Linh bowed deeply. “I appreciate you taking the time to see me, Your Majesty. Being in your presence is an honor.”

“The honor is mine,” Melasia replied politely. “What brings you into my court, Mai Linh?”

Mai Linh’s shoulders fell, if only slightly. A frown twitched at the corner of her lips, and her golden eyes drifted to the silver rug. Her clasped fingers warred for dominance at her waist, and her breathing sped. It didn’t take words for the queen to understand that aught was amiss.

“Finn, the island’s man, has been confirmed deceased,” Mai Linh announced, steadying her words.

Melasia blinked but didn’t move. When Mai Linh didn’t continue, she prompted, “The loss of an island’s man is a common occurrence, as I’m certain you’re aware.”

Mai Linh nodded. “I have assumed the leading role at the Shulan Guild Hall, managing the finances and affairs for now. However, his protracted disappearance has set us back…significantly.”

“You made mention of this when he first vanished one year ago. Could you please elaborate?”

“Of course, Your Majesty.” Mai Linh smoothed her dress but still kept her gaze to the floor, as was appropriate. “Myself and the other catgirls of the Guild Hall believe that, even though Finn had effectively vanished from the public eye, the Defiled threat continued to grow. As I’m sure you’re aware, their number seems to increase in correlation to a man’s presence on the island.”

Espada shifted in place. A tiny movement in her shoulders that Melasia was certain no one else in the court would have noticed. You have an opinion, love?

However, Melasia simply nodded. “That is correct.”

“Well, in addition to their normal…destructive tendencies upon our cities, many of our farms have taken a consequential amount of damage. To the point that this may affect us for—” Mai Linh paused. While Melasia waited, the Shi Island emissary took a deep breath and continued. “—For many years, Your Eminence.”

Melasia’s heart skipped. Defiled destroying farmland was nothing new, but it had never been so severe that it impacted every island before. “In what sense?”

“Nearly every farm producing sugar has been destroyed.” Mai Linh shifted her weight from one foot to the other. “It will take…many years to reproduce the same quality and quantity as before.”

“San Island is our highest producing island for sugar.” Melasia swallowed against the building lump in her throat. “Surely, not all of the farms have been destroyed?”

Whether it was the heat or the stress—maybe both—Melasia couldn’t tell. Mai Linh’s face flushed, and sweat gathered at her hairline. “All of them, Your Majesty.”

A cold fear slithered down Melasia’s spine. Sugar was a necessity for every island, and San Island was the main island of export. What would the other islands do without it? They didn’t have an alternative to use, and many catgirls that were highly skilled in [Cooking] would lose a much-needed income. “When is the soonest we can see a reprisal, Mai Linh?”

“Restoring the soil will take one year, perhaps two. It’s difficult to say, as most of the fertile lands were scorched by Defiled. We will need to find new plots for many of them.” Mai Linh cleared her throat and rolled her shoulders. “I believe our sugar production will resume in four years. After calculating the averages exported to other islands, well, it doesn’t look good.”

“What do you mean?”

“There will be a shortage for quite some time. I understand there are a handful of producers between Ni and Shi Islands, but to compensate for the amount needed between all islands and Nyarlothep—” Mai Linh trailed.

It will take many years. Melasia realized the truth of Mai Linh’s words without her having to say them. It was a difficult situation, as many bakers, cooks, and patissiers relied on the sugar from San Island to feed their families. “I see.”

“We will do all we can to ration what we’ve left and work with the other islands in ensuring a fair and even trade. However, we…we will need your support.”

“You have it, Mai Linh,” Melasia assured her. “Anything I can do to aid in your time of need, please just say the word.”

Mai Linh bowed deeply, the tension evaporating from her neck. “Thank you, Your Majesty. We will need it now more than ever.”

“What of the Defiled? Can they be ably handled by your remaining warriors?” Melasia feared the worst—streets overrun by savage beasts murdering catgirls without prejudice.

“I believe so, Your Eminence. Even if we lack the aid of a new man, our warriors should be sufficient to eventually thin the threat,” Mai Linh replied.

“Excellent.” That was a small relief, knowing she wouldn’t have to send the Royal Guard to San Island to quell the threat. So that you won’t have to send Espada away, a small voice at the back of her mind taunted. She pushed it away. “We will manage the shortage of sugar together, then. Should you need aid in pushing back the Defiled, you need only call upon me. In the meantime, I pray you receive a new man to unite those who remain against the dangers.”

“As do I,” Mai Linh whispered and bowed again. “I shall not occupy your time further.”

“Are there any further matters that require addressing, Mai Linh?” Melasia extended a hand and tilted her head. “You’ve traveled so far; the journey from San Island to Nyarlothep is an arduous one. Please, make yourself heard.”

Mai Linh hesitated, then shook her head. “That is all.”

“Very well. I thank you for bringing this to my attention. I shall discuss this crisis within my council and see if there is anything further I can do to assist you.”

“Your consideration is most appreciated.” Mai Linh bowed again. “Thank you, Your Majesty.”

The mention of a council always felt like a lie to Melasia. Yes, a small group of appointed catgirls would talk through the situation and attempt to respond in the best way possible. However, the only person she truly trusted in this world was Espada, and her assessments and opinions meant more to her than the heaps of precious metal presented to her from the four islands.

The day convened at dusk, as it always had, and Melasia retired to her room with Espada close behind. As the Queen’s Own, it was Espada’s duty to stand as Melasia’s guard morning, noon, and night. It worked well for their unique schedule, as there was no one else Melasia wanted at her side.

A kitchen servant closed the queen’s day with supper taken in her room before another set to bathing and dressing her for the evening. Melasia rarely took dinner in the kitchens, and her time betwixt her final meal and bath was spent pouring over missives from the heads of each island. Once she was bathed and ready to retire, she would have her time to speak with Espada.

It was the time of night she cherished the most.

After the final servant had excused herself, Espada was still positioned at her door, straight-backed and indomitable. Melasia tip-toed on her bare feet to Espada’s back, circling her arms around her protector’s neck and pulling her close.

“They’re gone for the night,” Melasia purred.

“Saoirse’s blessings for that,” Espada whispered, relaxing her posture at last. “What a day, hm?”

“We can talk about it later.” Melasia pushed herself to her full height, kissing the back of Espada’s neck. “I’ve other thoughts that occupy me.”

“You aren’t alone in that,” Espada growled and turned to face her.

[Memory stored and saved for Catgirls. . .]

Rationing sugar was far more difficult than Melasia had ever imagined. [Cooking] was the chosen profession of an alarmingly high number of catgirls, and there was no way to ration the appropriate amount of sugar to each and every one of them.

As the months dragged on, more and more catgirls from every island requested an audience with Queen Melasia, wondering what had happened and why Nyarlothep was suddenly ‘keeping the sugar to themselves.’ While it very much wasn’t the case, rumors were stronger than speculation. Anger and unrest built throughout every city in Nyarlea, and Melasia found herself at their mercy.

Months turned to years, her rule hard-won by inches in many cases. Espada remained at her side while the question of Melasia’s succession surfaced over and over again. She was still young enough to rule for many years, but history had shown the most prosperous queens bearing at least two daughters by her age.

However, the thought of lying with anyone outside of Espada brought her anxiety she couldn’t put to words. They put catgirls in cells for such feelings. She put catgirls in cells for such feelings.

These were the thoughts that plagued her when Cailu Raloquen’s name was announced in her court.