A/N: This is my Secret Santa entry for 2018. I originally had plans to do all of my victim's prompts, but because December is the last month I have the time to do a bunch of writing for obvious reasons, she will have to be satisfied with this for now.
So, Merry Christmas, Headphonescinderella!
9. Lost
Perdita was awakened by the smell of a hot breakfast, something that involved a lot of gravy.
Her fair mouth grimaced as she pretended to be asleep for a little longer. Her heart was still burning from dinner the night before, but she dared not complain. Regardless of what type of gravy it was, her royal husband would love it.
Which in turn meant that she loved it, even if her heart and stomach constantly felt like an inferno as a result.
"Hmm, that smells good," his familiar voice purred as the whole bed shifted with his movements until he was sitting up in their gigantic canopied bed. His familiar paw nudged her shoulder insistently once he was settled. "Wake up, babe. You know I can't start without you."
She managed to hide her groan of disdain as part of a low growl that sounded like she was sorry about being woken up.
Childhood training made her actions to move into a seated position much more smooth and graceful than her husband's. When she forced herself to open her eyes, she could see the three ladies in waiting smiling brightly at her, Amethyst indeed bearing her a large tray heavy with quail eggs, turkey sausage and hot biscuits, all smothered in rich gravy that nearly disguised her breakfast completely.
"Dear Amethyst, you know my appetite isn't all that large," she cooed tolerably, wishing her husband would let her order a fruit bowl instead for just one meal.
Her husband wrapped a surprisingly scrawny arm around her waist and dragged her a little closer to his side of the bed. "Eat it anyway, love. You're getting thinner again, and that's not healthy."
An order from her husband. There was no choice but obedience now. Perdita nodded assent and politely tucked into her breakfast with her mate.
As her hand reluctantly brought mouthful after mouthful to her lips, the neat little black cat couldn't help reflecting on where she might be if the king hadn't been widowed for the second time when she came of age.
Duchess Sai always smelled of strawberries and peaches at early morning court, as did her husband. Did she secretly yearn for a heavy breakfast such as this? It would be terribly improper to ask, of course, but it wasn't hard to see that the way the duke doted on his young wife. There just seemed to be something more… thoughtful about how he interacted with her, always so tender.
Her heart seemed to burn more hotly in response, but she didn't dare let it show as she kept swallowing gravy and sugar as she was ordered.
After breakfast was the ritual of Lapis and Rose combing through her luxurious fur, which the current court poet loved comparing to sapphires. Amethyst busied herself with changing the bedsheets as the king left for his morning duties, using one of the last biscuits to eat a bit more gravy with a lazy smile.
Queen Perdita of the Cat Kingdom closed her blue eyes lingeringly, letting the specially-treated brushes run through her fur with all the gentleness of a summer's breeze. 'Clean your fur, clean the bed clothes… clean the memories of what will never be…'
She knew she didn't have much to complain about. Phoebus has his list of faults, certainly, but at least he was doting. It didn't matter how high the function, if he felt like a kiss or embrace, he was completely willing to let the court say what they will about his lack of decorum. Even when she would have rather not have an audience to such affection.
She was presented with only the finest clothes, the finest foods, but most importantly, the finest son she could have ever hoped for.
Her fixed smile turned genuine at the thought of her fine little boy, who was almost ready to have his twelfth birthday. It was probably uncharitable to think it, but she was grateful that her sweet prince hadn't seemed to inherit much more from his father than the famous red eye of the royal family and an occasional bout of absent-mindedness.
As a result, he was mild-mannered, thoughtful, and a delight to be around.
If not for the childhood training of hiding her true emotions, Perdita would have surely flinched in guilt as Lapis helped to guide her into an expensive gown of silver brocade.
The blue hair had been trained from the cradle to be the perfect wife. It troubled her much more growing up, but she had more or less resigned herself to the fact that in order to be the perfect wife, she could never at any time form an opinion without consulting her husband to ensure they were perfectly synced in all things.
She took in a deep breath, wishing she could at the very most only tie a satin ribbon around her neck and be done with it, but her husband was obsessed with human fashion, at least on queens. He himself only wore golden armbands and the royal eye that was the badge of his office because his long fur would make him overheat if he wore additional clothes.
Perdita had to fight back a rebellious smile that although her husband adored human fashions, he wasn't about to go shaving himself for it any time soon. For now, he was content in dressing up his wife like an oversized doll.
"There you are, your majesty! You're a vision to behold," Rose gushed as she and Lapis stepped back enough so that their queen could inspect her reflection in the large mirror in a corner of the royal suite.
The only way she could have appeared even more human was if her husband had resurrected the practice of stealing human brides for the royal line. Legends had it that even after the change was complete, some bit of their human selves would always remain the same.
Perdita fixed her usual smile into place, even though her heart still burning within her chest at the uncomfortable truth.
An oversized, heir-making doll.
ooOoo
Even lunch that day was unnecessarily heavy. Perdita tried to remember what she had been doing between getting dressed and sitting here beside her husband again, but for the life of her, she could barely focus her attention on anything around her.
She had always been fond of watercolor paintings, but now she almost felt like she was in the middle of one as it was being painted. Colors seemed to swirl and dance together in her vision, and everyone around her seemed noisier than usual. Taking a deep breath to steady herself, she managed to look around her husband devouring a whole tuna casserole by himself at her dear son.
Lune seemed worried, trying to disguise the fact that he was keeping one eye on her at all times. He was barely touching the gravy mess in front of him, though she couldn't tell if it was distaste or concern that was keeping him from eating.
Perdita could feel her heart swell with love once more. Why couldn't her husband have been more like their son? All it would take it ten seconds of Phoebus to show this kind of concern over her, and perhaps she'd be enjoying a grass salad right now.
Or perhaps a nap. Why was she so tired? Not even her heart burn and raging stomach had managed to wake her up last night, and as the queen, about the only exercise she got was from a beaded fan or cutlery.
Her paw was shaking from the excursion of lifting caviar to her lips. Caviar, that weighed practically nothing, was making her arm ache like she was attempting to flip over the table!
Her stomach and jaw screamed in agony, making her put down the spoon for good. It was simply too much.
Almost on cue, the little sound was enough to make her husband turn enough to look at her with a warning glare.
"Shouldn't you be using that?" he asked bluntly.
Perdita made a breathy sigh. "I'm sorry, dear, but I just can't right now. I'll eat more at supper, I promise." 'If I were to wear a purse, would I be able to slip the food into it instead of my mouth? No. As long as I am queen, my every move will always be watched.'
The thought only made her feel worse. What was she, some creature locked up in a zoo? Meant only to be gawked at between the bars? Her heart pounded worse at what was feeling like an increasingly accurate analogy.
The Cat King's glare got more dangerous. "Your fur isn't as glossy as it was when we got married. Your eyes are getting duller, and you don't laugh as much as you used to. If you would just eat a full meal every time, these things would get better."
All true, at least the first half of his statement, but why did he say that out loud in front of the entire court? Everything had turned dead quiet in order to catch his majesty's every word, right down to the musicians that should have been providing atmosphere.
Her son's angry look made it clear that he would have at least waited for some privacy.
'Maybe if you would let me pick what I eat, I would eat everything!' Perdita had been thinking it for years, but now her thoughts were threatening to bubble to the surface. "I can't-" she tried to explain again, but he was already unloading half a partridge pie onto her almost full plate, pushing some anchovies off it and staining the cream-colored tablecloth.
"Eat it. All of it!" he commanded with the same volume he would have used addressing the entire kingdom.
Perdita looked down at her plate, seeing the fat and gravy literally turn the tablecloth into a disgusting misshapen ring of greys and browns around the dish. Her stomach threatened a second appearance of what she had already managed to choke down that day.
Taking in a deep breath, she pushed the plate away while uttering something she usually only dreamed of saying to her husband.
"No."
Phoebus seemed to swell in his rage. "I am the KING!"
"And I am the queen who's trying to keep her food down. It's turning into a losing battle," she managed to say, holding one paw to her midriff, praying that she wouldn't actually throw up with the entire court watching.
Sure, the king did it on an almost nightly basis, but that was thanks to how much strong drink he consumed at supper. The queen couldn't afford to do it, she had to be the embodiment of perfection! Who cared if the king made a fool of himself, but the queen would have caused a real scandal if she did the same!
It was all so unfair! It was always unfair, but the fact seemed to matter more in this moment.
"Simple enough, I order you to keep your food down, and to add this to it!" He shoved the plate back at her a little more harshly than he meant to.
Or so Perdita hoped. Instead of coming to rest in front of her, the plate collided with the front of her silver dress, sending hot gravy and more down her chest and ruining the expensive gown.
She knew she needed to be ladylike in expressing her pain, but it was the final straw. The dark blue cat tried to get out of her throne-like chair with a pained yelp.
But somewhere in the middle of that yelp, it felt like one of the guards had successfully skewered her with a spear, the pain was so intense. Her yelp cut itself off in surprise and sudden breathlessness.
She began falling, first painfully over the armrest, and then onto the marble floor next to the royal table.
The last thing she heard her husband say was, "I know that trick, Perdita! Sylvia used to use it on me all the time!"
The last thing she saw was her young prince hurrying to her side with a cry of "Mother!"
But what Perdita would never know, was how her final look of relief would be something that would haunt her precious Lune for the rest of his days.