A dark castle rose from inside a rim of black volcanic rock. The night sky above was stained maroon with the glow of lava. High in the castle a large window was thrust open, and a monster carrying a princess stepped inside. Gently, ever so gently, he set her on her feet.
Peach surveyed the room as she stepped forward. The walls and floor were made of rough stone, but the wooden furniture was delicate. A bed with a towering canopy, a settee perched on spindly legs, a divan that sprawled out luxuriously – all upholstered in pale pink.
She turned back to Bowser. "Are we really doing this again?"
"I didn't invite you to join me on Dinosaur Island," Bowser snarled, "but since you were so kind as to show up on my doorstep, you may as well come inside."
"I didn't show up at your doorstep, Bowser. I was on vacation."
"You didn't have to vacation on Dinosaur Island."
Peach couldn't believe his audacity. "Do you want to tell me why not? What gives you the right to decide where I can and can't go?"
"You knew I was here," Bowser growled.
"Yeah, I knew you were here," Peach pointed at the dirty floor, "in some old castle inside a volcano. I didn't think you'd come all the way to Yoshi's Island. You could have left me well enough alone."
"I could have, but like I said..."
Bowser's words trailed off. Peach knew perfectly well what he'd said earlier, but she wanted him to say it again.
"I need your help," he finally grumbled, his eyes darting away from her.
"If you need help so badly, then you could have brought Mario along too."
"DON'T TALK TO ME ABOUT MARIO."
Peach rolled her eyes. "Fine, whatever. I just thought it would be nice to take a vacation. I didn't think I'd have to deal with you again."
"WELL YOU THOUGHT WRONG."
A fleck of Bowser's spit flew from his mouth and landed on Peach's cheek. She glared at him as she brushed it away with the back of her hand.
"You. Are. Impossible. To talk to," she said, enunciating every word.
Bowser looked away and ran his hand through his hair. "Okay, Peach, listen – "
"No," she shook her head, "we're done. You can come back when you're ready to stop shouting. And send someone up with some water. I'm burning up in here."
Bowser lowered his head in a mock bow. "As Her Highness commands," he sneered, turning and exiting the room through the window.
Peach listened to the sound of Bowser's strange contraption recede. He had a soft spot for flying machines, but even by his standards the teacup-shaped device he'd used to bring her here was clownishly silly. He usually preferred something more grand and imposing, and Peach couldn't help but suspect that her visit to the island had caught him unprepared. Perhaps he hadn't counted on bringing her here, but this room had obviously been intended for her.
Peach threw her red leather day bag onto the bed and walked to a dressing table positioned in front of a large tapestry. The fabric was old and faded to the color of ash, but the furniture was new and smelled pleasantly of expensive varnish. Peach sat down on the plush upholstered stool and picked up a silver hairbrush, wondering where Bowser could have found such a thing. She removed her tiara and began combing her hair, which had become tangled in the wind.
Peach had stayed with Bowser twice before. The first time had been after a great act of magic gone awry, and the second time had followed a de facto invasion of her kingdom in which chaos had only barely been averted. Peach had no idea what Bowser was doing on Dinosaur Island, but if he had brought her here that must mean he had gotten himself in trouble a third time.
Peach studied her reflection in the mirror and decided that, under the circumstances, she didn't need to be perfect. She pulled her hair back into a loose bun and stood up so that she could pull off her formal gown. The dress would only get dirty here. Besides, Peach thought, sighing with relief as she began to unlace her corset, it's not as if there were anyone in this castle she needed to impress.
