His story felt like something he had made up; none of it felt familiar.

All of Peach's sadness had faded and been replaced with pure awe and curiosity at the way he described their interaction. While she was flustered to learn that she had...fallen over him, her embarrassment was overshadowed by her pure interest in what he had to tell her.

Peach sat in silence throughout the king's distant rambles about the Mushroom Kingdom and his encounter with her. She tried to remain still and let him finish without losing interest, but his descriptions rubbed her the wrong way; they were so negative and offensive. He didn't hold back when describing her or the kingdom...he had many bitter opinions about them both.

She knew he wasn't lying, though. If he were to lie, he would have said they had never met or, rather, that he didn't remember. Instead, his story was filled with small qualities that he only would have known if he had actually stood in the Mushroom Kingdom.

His descriptions of the kingdom were spot-on and there was no way he could have lied his way into such a convincing story. It made sense that he had crossed paths with her, seeing as her usual rehearsal spot was only a few blocks past the local post office that they had supposedly met one another. But, it bothered her. Why couldn't she remember it?

What were the odds that she had been there? That he had been there? Peach's stomach fell as she suddenly felt a wave of gratitude…if the two hadn't known one another, she was sure he would have slaughtered her when she had wandered beneath the world above.

Had she truly managed to wander that close to the beast just by chance?

The phantom seemed to interpret her silence as doubt as he squinted at her.

"If you don't believe me, look at your palm. You have a small scar under your index finger from when you ate pavement next to me." He paused. "As much as I'd like to be dishonest, I'm not lying. Look for yourself."

Peach looked down towards her arms gently tucked under the blanket. She released a quiet exhale as she attempted to move her hands but paused the most she was able to do was clench her fists. She looked back up towards her company with a telling glare. The two seemed to have forgotten that she was practically imobile because of him.

He rolled his eyes as he remembered her condition.

Peach huffed as it seemed her inability to move was an inconvenience from him proving himself right. Even though he was the one who caused her current state, it seemed that he was bothered by how easily it had come onto her.

Did he really feel so infuriated by humans as to be bothered by something as little as her needing some rest? Even in his description of first meeting her, he rambled about hating humans and how they were bothersome to him; how she had bothered him.

Did he still feel like that, or had he outgrown that mindset? She wasn't sure for how long she had known the king, but if he had despised humans during their first encounter...how did he feel about them now? Did he view her as a vile creature, just like he had described? He acted like it and it ticked her off.

With the way he spoke and behaved around her, she could sense some sort of discomfort and hatred. Whether it was because of her identity as a human or their history, she was unsure.

Peach finally snapped out of her thoughts and looked at the phantom. As if a wave of realization had washed over her, she paled and her posture stiffened.

"You...you were in the Mushroom Kingdom?!" Peach asked with a gasp. "How...when did that happen?! I don't remember-"

The king scoffed at her ridiculous question.

"I think you've made it clear that you don't remember anything."

Peach rolled her eyes.

"I know, I know," she muttered with a frown. She attempted to dial back her enthusiasm as she leaned back onto her bed's headboard. "I just...why has no one talked about it?"

He paused for a few moments before giving a bitterly-emotionless reply.

"Didn't end well. Your scum you call royalty tried to have me jumped after I didn't like their stupid little offers," he spat. "My fault for bein' desperate for a change of pace."

"They...attacked you?" Peach asked in distant disbelief.

The king nodded nonchalantly.

"Tried to," he huffed. "That's war; you play dirty to win. Pissed me off but I won't act like I'm not scummy myself."

She frowned as she tried to imagine what he had endured. No matter how hard she tried to envision it, her mind went blank, as she couldn't even consider her kingdom being so abusive under the pretense of peace.

Were the Mushroom Kingdom royals truly so corrupt? She had only known them to be incredibly caring and understanding to anyone who approached them, so she couldn't help but feel a bit suspicious of such a bold claim.

Peach's eyes wandered to his form, fixating on the thick, rough scars that sliced through every part of his body. They wrapped around him, ending abruptly and fading into his skin. They were lighter than his yellow complexion and somehow seemed painful even though they had already healed.

His limbs, torso, and face were covered in gruesome wounds that seemed to be the permanent proof of the battles he had fought. A thick cut even ran across his face, slashing through his eye.

Peach furrowed her brow. Every picture and portrait she had ever seen of him was designed to be hauntingly intimidating, but none had depicted him with scars. She had no doubt that he had gained a few from war and close calls in combat, but was he really hiding the countless scars that covered him?

Or rather, were they recent?

With her eyes focused on his wounds, she blurted out a question without thinking.

"Is that how you got your...your scars?" She asked a bit inconsiderately. She flinched, terrified that she had accidentally asked a question that would come off as rude and cause him to snap. She quickly back peddled with pure regret on her face, reassurance dripping out of her voice. "I...well, not that they're noticeable!" She lied in a panic.

The phantom looked down and examined his claws as he flipped them over, eyeing one or two thick marks that crossed his wrists. He looked at them with no emotion but Peach found it hard to believe that he held no emotional attachment to them. She watched carefully, wondering if each held a memory and he was playing back what he could remember.

"Maybe one or two. A handful are just from battles and other...experiences," he trailed off.

The king clenched his fists and lowered his arms back to his sides as he realized how easily she had managed to pull another answer out of him. He paused for a moment before he gave her a dirty look of disapproval.

"I said one question," he muttered in frustration.

Peach paused followed by a snicker. It seemed certain answers were easy to sneak out of him if it got him to talk about himself.

"It's not my fault if you like to talk about yourself," she taunted.

The phantom scowled at her, not amused by her sense of humor.

"Okay, okay, I'm sorry," she groaned in defeat. Peach's eyes lit up as she gasped and leaned forward, thrilled to have an idea come to mind. "Ask me something to make it even, then. Anything you want!" She enthusiastically offered with a smile and a small nod.

She looked up at the phantom with a cheeky smirk as she hoped he would indulge. She had figured his mind was bubbling with curiosities about her, just as hers had been about him. Though, one of the many mysteries about the phantom included what information he held about her.

He seemed to know a lot about her, going so far as to even remember one small scar on her hand and even her last name. He had remembered their first interaction so vividly...Bitterly, but he remembered every little detail down to the clothes she wore.

The fact that he seemed to know a great deal about her raised another important question that constantly sat at the back of her mind...what did she know about him?

"I'll pass," the king blurted without hesitation.

He seemed desperate to block off the opportunity of farthing their conversation or being stuck in a confined space together. It was painfully obvious that he didn't want to be around her, especially since the topic had changed from him to her, and it bothered her.

The two were like oil and water, at least through his eyes; the two were opposites and he wanted nothing to do with her. It seemed that the only times he came close to her were when the moment was dire or he was trying to get something out of her; he was never vulnerable nor eager to be in her presence.

For Peach, their contrasting origins were what amused her about him. It was distant, but she couldn't stop believing that there was something important about him rotting away somewhere within her. But, no matter how hard she pushed to figure anything out, he seemed to pull away.

"There's nothing you want to ask me?" She asked with subtly-annoyed disappointment, though her words fell to a whisper as his body shifted.

The phantom seemed eager to cut her off as he turned to his side and abruptly faced the exit. She let out a silent sigh as she knew the answer to her question.

He made his way towards the door with his usual mask of emotionless pride, though she swore there had to be more than what he was allowing her to percieve. She eyed him carefully as he seemed to be deep in thought though not outwardly so; he tried to hide it, but Peach could easily tell he was thinking because he wasn't acting like she had insulted him.

Peach wanted to ask him to stay or even hop out of bed to pester him a bit longer, but she remained frozen, her body numb to any feeling, and intrigued by his expression.

He placed his claw on the door and pushed it open a few inches before he looked over his shoulder. He muttered one sentence before fully leaving the room and leaving her alone.

"I'll keep your offer in mind."

The stage was set with countless objects of a royal, luxurious living room. A large, dark-oak desk sat at the center of the stage with gold patterns and jewel-engraved ornaments decorating its surface. Severan nicknacks that screamed wealth sat on the edge of the table, clearly having been clumsily moved around.

If you looked close enough at the desk and other furniture amongst the set, most of the props were clearly coated in gold paint, as a lot of the props were chipping at the edges. Almost everything was thrown together in an attempt to come off as wealthy.

It was tacky up close but it looked enchanting from a distance.

A large, red lounge chair sat behind the desk and a small wooden stool sat before it, two humans sitting respectively. Mario and Peach sat amongst the stage's furniture, Pauline in the red chair and Mario sitting across from her on a stool.

A few koopa girls skipped off the stage, their giggles echoing through the set. They rushed away with their hands covering their faces and their faces pure red.

"It's a few months away and they're already acting like it's more important than the actual production," Pauline aggressively mumbled under her breath with a deep frown.

Mario sheepishly nodded his head with a subtle amount of blush on his cheeks. He tried to smile in agreement but Pauline found it hard to believe that he wasn't adoring the attention from the female cast members and stagehands. Even if he tried to act modest around his fans and around her, she knew he loved it.

His lap was practically overflowing with notes and scraps of paper with contact information from admirers, interested in being his date. The notes were indirectly delivered from secret admirers but a few brave koopa girls had personally delivered their thoughtful notes to him with flustered squeaks of admiration.

It ticked her off. Ever since the announcement had been made, no one was taking production seriously anymore.

A few days ago, the queen had proudly sent letters to the staff of the opera house. The letters had primarily landed in Kamek's claws as he shook while handing him out. Such a royal intervention was beyond unexpected and had many of the higher ups sweating at the royal envelope sitting in their mail. Many feared that the building was going to be demolished or that their salaries would be cut or underfunded.

However, after opening the sealed letters, the opera house was filled with joy and excitement at what the queen had arranged.

The queen was arranging a ball for the entire cast, workers, and employees of the opera house to congratulate them on such passionate progress. While many of the employees played countless roles in whatever stories the queen demanded, none had stood in her presence outside of one showing of their finished productions, so such praise was enough for Kamek to faint.

None had spoken to her nor been acknowledged by her. They were her entertainment, nothing worth interacting with...it was unfathomable to be worth her presence and acknowledgement.

Because of the idea of socializing with such a royal, historical member of the koopa monarchy, the opera house was buzzing with ideas and cries of excitement for their first wealthy social event. While most were excited for the experience, many were overjoyed at the thought of eating upper class food.

Though, Pauline seemed to be the only person consistently bitter at the news.

The entire time Mario's face was shoved with letters, Pauline shot daggers into him the more he indulged in the girls fantasies. Mario's posture had been stiff the entire time, his back aching from the knives she was silently stabbing him with.

"You aren't actually looking forward to it, are you?"

"It would be a...nice distraction, wouldn't it?" He asked with a small smile. With the expression he received from Pauline, he quickly backpedaled with a sigh. "Okay, maybe not. You are right. This is not good timing for a distraction."

Pauline crossed her arms as common sense finally came back to him. Though, that didn't ease her agitation. Because the two were finally alone, she blurted out what she had arranged to talk to him about in the first place in regards to the royal ball.

"Since when has the queen been so invested in what we do? We're just actors. When have we ever been praised?" she muttered with disgust. "Don't get me wrong, I don't want her validation...I just...I don't trust any of this. I feel like she's...up to something with this whole Peach situation."

Mario frowned with a tilt of his head, surprised to find the tone had shifted so quickly. Pauline sighed as she continued her rant with her arms crossed.

"Don't you...I don't know, feel like it's an easy way to get everyone out of the opera house, considering the fact that we're pushing the idea that something is beneath this place holding Peach captive?" She asked with a frustrated groan. She subtly gestured to one of the many guards positioned at the exits among the rows of seats before them.

Mario stared in discomfort at how bitter her tone had become. For whatever reason, Pauline had become more and more paranoid of the queen's involvement due to the increase of royal security at the opera house. The queen's letter sent her into pure paranoia. No matter how much he tried to reassure her that the knights were there to protect the workers from whatever threat lay beneath them, she turned her head in curt disagreement.

"You are looking way too far into this, Pauline. Why would the queen care? It's a big production and she wants to reward us." He sighed. "You need to take it easy. Maybe this is what you need."

"A reward?" She repeated with an offended scoff. "I don't need anything from her! I never did, and I don't need anything now," she hissed in defense.

Pauline's words shook as she tried to hold herself back from breaking into tears.

None if it made any sense to her...why was Peach so important? So necessary for the queen? The more she thought about it, the more she felt like the missing girl was...valuable to her. So many humans, koopas, and creatures in between had gone missing under the same exact scenario as Peach had, yet she didn't care.

Pauline groaned in frustration as she shoved her face into her hands, terrified of the possibility that she was right...that Peach was more important.

Why was Peach worth it but...but they hadn't been?

Mario flinched in fear as he realized his attempt at care had instead ignited the usual flame that sparked whenever he attempted to calm her. He froze and silently panicked as Pauline began trembling from pure rage, or what he assumed was frustration at him.

For whatever reason, she was furious, and he was caught in the crossfire. Mario sat with a docile frown, terrified of what would happen if he attempted to calm her down again.

The two were close, so Mario furrowed his brow as he leaned forward, trying to analyze her. Surely, it wouldn't be too hard to silently find out what was bothering her.

Was it because of the letters? Mario frowned at the idea, as she wasn't the jealous type...and why would she be jealous? Was it because she hadn't received a single invite?

"P-Pauline," Mario sheepishly whispered. "If...If you want, I would be happy to go with you to-"

Pauline's eyes widened as she furiously peaked through her hands. Though he couldn't see it, he swore a thick, black energy was seeping out of her and increasing the air pressure around the two; she was silently tearing him apart.

Mario leaned back in his chair as his soul left his body. That was not what was bothering her.

Pauline quickly stood up and brought her arm to her face, shielding her eyes away from Mario as she turned around and headed towards the stage's exit. She quickly left Mario on his own without a look in his direction.

Without another glance or an attempt to stop her, Mario let her know, realizing he had surely hurt her in some way.

Looking down at the letters in his lap, all the excitement had left him.