"Who are you?" Marianne questions.
"An imp," Vincent states, scowling at the captive creature. "It must have followed us."
"I thought you said that you weren't a Breezy Meadow subject," Bog growls at the imp.
"It isn't. Imps are pests that came into the Breezy Meadow when I was young," Vincent comments.
Bog raises his eyebrow as the little creature tries to scramble away from the sprite prince, a futile effort with it being confined by Bog's hand around its stomach. It finally gives up and tries to make itself smaller by burrowing against Bog's carapace and curling into a ball, even its long ears are hidden in the small pile of fur.
"I remember Queen Valatina saying pests as the reason for the food shortage in the Breezy Meadow when she signed the trade agreement but she didn't elaborate further," Dagda mentions. "These imps wouldn't happen to have been responsible, were they?"
"They were. Imps are gluttonous thieves. They eat more grain than a rat and have no aversion to stealing larvae or even grown bees from our honey farms," Vincent explains. "I guess I should have known it was an imp when they mentioned a thief had stolen the love potion but I thought the last one was exterminated last autumn."
Leaning his royal scepter against his shoulder, Bog uses his other hand to pet the whimpering creature in his hold. No wonder the poor thing was so scared.
"Best to kill that thing before it causes any more damage," Vincent suggests.
"Now just...," Bog starts.
"It wasn't the one to cause damage but your own people," Marianne interrupts, placing a calming hand on Bog's chest. "It was your people who brought a love potion into our kingdom, a kingdom where love potions are forbidden, and it was your people who are the true ones responsible for every love-dusted creature, not this little imp. Besides, had it not stolen that potion, you would be love-dusted and your royal bloodline would cease. You should be grateful to it, Vincent."
"Grateful! To an imp? The very idea is insulting," Vincent growls. "That thing is nothing but chaos!"
Bog blinks as Marianne smirks at the other male before picking up the imp from his hold, coddles it to her chest and walks toward the palace exit. He can't help his huff of laughter as the imp sticks its head up to look over her shoulder and sticks its tongue out at Vincent.
"We'll see you when the other delegates arrive tomo...this afternoon," Marianne comments. "Please send Plum to the Dark Forest after she arrives once she cures those infected here and please tell her to behave, Dad. You're the only one she listens to."
"She's crazy," Vincent mutters.
"She's chaos."
Bog laughs with Dagda at their combined response before bidding his own goodbyes and joining his mate at the palace door. He smirks as the curious creature fiddles with the sheathed blades on Marianne's chest and trills at her soft rebuke.
"Marianne," Bog starts.
"It's not its fault," Marianne interrupts. "I mean, I know it caused a lot of trouble but I think it was only doing it to cause trouble for the Breezy Meadow. Weren't you?"
The imp nods its head and trills again before burrowing against Marianne's shoulder and yawning.
"Marianne," Bog tries again.
"We can't just let the Breezy Meadow have it. You heard Vincent, they'll kill it just like they've killed its kin," Marianne interrupts again, petting the purring creature. "Besides the love potion, I'll wager that the only thing this poor thing or its kin has stolen is food. Food that it needed to survive. Maybe..."
Marianne may have her way of getting him to talk when he is reluctant to do so but he also has his own methods of getting her to become quiet when she's rambling. After all, there are better uses for her soft mouth than talking.
He doesn't pull back until he's sure she is thoroughly kissed and he smirks at her dazed expression. Scratching the imp's furry head, Bog motions toward the open sky with his other hand.
"Let's go home," Bog suggests. "Then we can figure out where this little one can go, preferably in the Dark Forest and away from any Breezy Meadow subject."
Only lights from each village watchtower greet the pair as they fly through the kingdom, everyone able to return to bed now that the crisis is over. They stop briefly at the dry creek bed for Marianne to thank Lizzie for her help and bid the reptile sweet dreams as she readies for the sunrise.
With the moon low in the sky and the sun still a long way off from rising, Bog insists on carrying Marianne while in the Dark Forest to keep from losing sight of her in the darkened night. The soft snores from within Marianne's arms tell the state of their newest subject, its clawed hands clinging to the snake-leather tunic in a tight grip and its tail wrapped tightly around Bog's arm.
"Did the Wild Hunt go well for everyone before you had to end it?" Marianne asks.
"Only three pairs hadn't made a kill," Bog informs. "So I gave them permission to return to the hunting glade if they wanted to. If you want to, we can continue our hunt as well."
"You're sweet," she murmurs, moving her head to kiss his jaw. "But you've also been doing a lot of flying tonight and while I've slept, you haven't. As long as you don't mind going home without a kill then it's fine. We brought home something at least."
"Yeah, another mouth to feed," he chuckles.