Peach stuffed the telegram back into her dress pocket, her thoughts finally ridding itself of Roy. She wondered whether her parents had discovered whether or not she had disappeared yet or not. It was almost noon. She briefly pictured her mother gliding down the halls, her graceful face ashen with worry. Her mother had always been the picture of strength and beauty. Her father was short and slightly rotund, but possessed a rather pleasant, mustachioed face. "Good thing you inherited your mothers features," he always was fond of saying. "We can find you a rich husband that way," he joked.

Peach crossed one leg over the other. Though the Toadstools were enormously wealthy, she knew her father only wanted her to marry somebody with deep pockets. Her mother had been inclined to agree.

There had been an incident once when Peach had been courting a handsome young lord from a distant land and was slowly falling in love with him. She remembered his name, and suspected it was a name she would never really truly forget. Marth Lowell. She remembered he had carried a sweet tenderness with him. His touches were gentle, his gazes at her indicated that he saw nothing else but her. She had been intoxicated by him.

And then it was found out that Marth Lowell may have been a lord, but he was gravely in debt. When Peach's parents found this out, they forbade them any continued contact. It was one of the only times Peach had truly ever been angry with her parents. Her mother had somehow found her way into her room days later and stroked her hair.

"Remember this well, darling," she said softly. "Your father and I only want what's best for you."

Peach had looked at her bitterly. "He could have been what was best for me."

Her mother shook her head, her smooth, platinum blonde hair shifting with each shake. "Let me tell you one thing you must always remember, darling. Love is for fools. It is always fleeting, for you can never control the way your partner feels about you. But power? Wealth? These are things you do have some control over. If you must choose between feelings and money, always choose money."

And slowly over time, Peach understood her mother to be right. The last she had heard of this Marth Lowell, he was engaged to a woman named Caeda. She did not know if he was happy or not. But she understood that she would perhaps be miserable without the comforts in life that only money could provide.

As she was now. She could almost kick herself for not having the foresight to bring any money past the few bills in her pocket. Within a few days she would be starving and then what?

She stared outside the window. The sun was blazing through the desolate desert and she had never felt lonelier. She stared, willing herself not to cry, but the edges of her eyes prickled with heat and sure enough, she felt the first few teardrops forming at her waterline before sliding down her cheeks.

She wanted to feel the comfort of her mother's arms around her, wanted to see the charming smile of her father. She wanted to be in her bed.

Angrily, she wiped her tears away and took a great, long sniff, utterly annoyed that she'd had the gall to cry about her situation. She had made her own decision, hadn't she? She rose from her seat and walked down the compartment. She had to cross another before she got to the dining cart, her stomach emitting a hungry growl.

"Could I get your name, Miss?" the short man behind the counter said. He was stout, rather round, and perpetually pink in the face.

"Peach," she said, without thinking.

He flipped through a few pages. "Don't see your name on the list, ma'am."

She sighed. "I'm Mr. Roy's fiancée," she said. "Perhaps it is under his name." She tried not to feel too guilty about this, telling herself that if Roy's real fiancée wanted lunch, she would have been here already.

The man ran a finger down several lists, muttering all the while. "Could I get a last na-" He paused for a brief second and then said, "Oh! Roy Eliwood, you mean? He's purchased two tickets here that includes meals."

Eliwood? Peach thought to herself, her interest piqued. She was sure he had introduced himself as Roy Forest not Eliwood. Even when she wanted to rid her thoughts of that man, her mind kept coming back to him. There had to be a reason he was lying about his last name, but what was it? What had he said? He was looking for his fiancée? Perhaps he was lying to her about who he was.

But it didn't make any sense. Why would he lie about who he was to his fiancée? Puzzled, Peach stared off into space, trying to find a theory that fit the red-headed man best but failed.

"Miss?" the man politely inquired.

"Oh!" Peach smiled. "Forgive me. I am quite famished. It must be getting to my head."

The man grinned at her jovially. "Now that I can understand. Being hungry's possibly the worst feeling in the world!"

Peach once again, took note of his squat, round figure. He certainly looked like the kind of person who looked it. She smiled politely, but inside, she was disgusted at this man's impulsiveness towards food.

The man seemed utterly clueless about what was going on through Peach's mind. Instead he waved a meaty hand toward the empty tables. "You can sit anyplace you'd like and a waiter will come by. Will Mr. Eliwood be joining you?"

"Not today, I'm afraid," Peach responded. Or really, ever, perhaps, she thought to herself. She made her way to a table that was nestled by a window overlooking the sun. It was large, like a fat coin burning brightly against the cloudless backdrop. In another few hours it would sink into the horizon, leaving the sky in darkness.

The waiter came by - a black, distantly polite man dressed in black. Peach ordered the most expensive thing on the menu (a steak with broiled mushrooms) just to spite Roy. Let him take the tab, she thought to herself with a savage sort of satisfaction. It wasn't bad enough that he had a fiancée, but on top of that he didn't even give out his true name!

Then again, Peach thought to herself as she politely squared off a dainty bit of steak and placed it in her mouth, she too was trying to hide who she really was.

She had always known her upbringing was rather unusual. The fact that Peach had grown up in isolation, getting only the best of tutors and always, always under heavy protection whenever she was allowed out had led her to suspect that her parents dealt with something that possibly put them all under danger. The fact that she never truly knew what her father and mother did as a profession, yet lived in immense wealth was also highly suspicious. She had never dared to ask, but she had always strongly suspected that how they earned money was not strictly legal...

Peach wiped her mouth with her napkin, finished with her meal, utterly sated and content. She looked out the window once more, her blue eyes taking in the wide expanse of the dry desert. Though the loneliness seemed nearly palpable, she felt almost excited at the thought of being out on her own for the first time in her life. She tried not to think about her parents and stood up, finding her way to her night compartment.

It didn't take too long after asking where her compartment was, that she found a door neatly labeled "3F" in curly letters. She hoped for some peace and quiet, perhaps a place to take a nap. She knew that whatever lay inside could not possibly compare to her own sprawling, comforting bed at home, so she braced herself for being disappointed and slid open the compartment door.

But nothing could have prepared her for the person already sitting in her compartment. There sat a blond women with feline-shaped blue eyes. Her arms were draped over the back of the plush, velvet seat with one leg crossed over the other. She tilted her head back, her silky blond hair falling over her shoulders to gaze at Peach and her lips curled into a sardonic, bitter smile. Peach noticed the pointed ears, and her blood ran cold.

The woman opened her mouth and said in a smooth voice, "Just the woman I've been waiting for."