The Ruler's Rift

On Your Mark

Celeste stumbled through the door, its autumnal wreath swaying. Purple-marked eyelids desperately shrouded blue receptors - she could sleep for a week. Panicked paws pitter-pattered against hardwood like rain. They ushered Lucy into the demon's embrace. Celeste blinked hard to stay awake and wrapped her arms around her girlfriend.

"I'm terrified. I'm terrified," Lucy repeated, her face buried in Celeste's chest. Her breathing heaved as if it tried to fan a flame. "You're the queen...I can't..."

Of course - Like every denizen of the universe, Lucy got the psychic message as well. Celeste sighed, "It's okay. No need to be terrified, dear."

"You're home so late..."

"Well, that's what happens when you have crowds of deities breathing down your neck, bombarding you with questions..." Celeste yawned and flopped onto the couch. "I was swarmed for the last two hours."

Lucy scrambled to the couch and sat beside her lover. Her tail swished with shakiness like an uneven sea. Her tired face shifted like subterranean plates. Despite Celeste's visible exhaustion, Lucy begged to be told everything. Of all questions and concerns she rattled off, Celeste managed only to answer several. Among those few, Lucy learned of Amber's new position. That carved a frown into her lips.

"I thought I might be your advisor..." Lucy muttered, ears drooping.

Celeste sat up, reinvigorated by her desire to comfort the weary malamute. "I have an even better job for you," she soothed. A small smile bloomed on her face and her gaze fluttered aside. "You know...if you're willing..."

"Of course I'm willing, Cel." Lucy's ears perked up along with her mood.

Another smirk followed Lucy's words. Celeste surveyed the small yet beautiful home - Lucy's house looked like it warped out of a magazine. Dashes of red and orange conveyed the essence of autumn. Finally, the demon returned her gaze to Lucy. "There's no one else I'd like to revamp that drab palace," she cooed. "You'll decorate it for me, won't you?"

Sparks lit up in Lucy's eyes, but they died before kindling fire. Hesitation clouded her brief joy, and she scooted back on the couch. "I'd love to, I'm just not sure..." She muttered.

For a moment, Celeste entertained anger. Offended that Lucy wouldn't leap onto an offer from the queen, she nearly forgot this was her girlfriend, not one of her other replaceable subjects. Her face softened and she cooled the pride which came with her crown. "Oh," she began. "Sorry, I'm confused. I thought you'd want to."

"I do!" Lucy insisted.

"Then...why all this conflict?"

Lucy crinkled her fingers as if digging through her thoughts. "I just," she began, "I just want to make it perfect for you. I've never had a job this important...not even close."

"Shouldn't you be thrilled, then?" Celeste pressed. She tilted her head.

"I am and I'd love to help you out, Cel. But you're probably better off getting my mom to do this. She's better-"

"Better? Better at what?"

"A better designer - what else!?" The pressure finally shattered the insomniac. "Nova's mansion gets compliments to this day even though it's all minimalist crap! Guess I just don't know what I'm talking about."

Gears and clicks rang about Celeste's skull. If Lucy's mother designed the Therapyrre mansion, then the tension between fox and malamute fell into place. "I see..." whispered the queen.

In a mocking tone, Lucy muttered to herself, "This red is too bright, Lucille. You're over-designing it, Lucille. Ugh." The malamute rolled her eyes and raised her voice. "How dare I want a home to actually have something in it!"