The Tearoom

  ( Cutiehorn )

  Bubblebun hopped from the Muncher before it had completed its descent, landing with nimble grace.

  "Dammit..." cursed Cutiehorn. "Stay outside, ok, Cherrychomp?"

  The little red fairy whimpered. "But Puddypuff said -"

  "I know," said Cutiehorn. "We'll try not to cause any trouble. You just keep things under control out here, ok?" She'd have preferred more time to put Cherrychomp at ease, but Bubblebun was already springing up the Tearoom's steps.

  As soon as Cutiehorn was able to make the drop without landing like a sack of pots and pans, she too leapt down, then gave chase.

  Before the doors were two finely-dressed, sequin-masked doormen, who seemed just as worried about the ascending ballerina as Cutiehorn.

  "Yo. Open up!" demanded Bubblebun.

  The two men shared a nervous glance. "Forgive us, Princess, but the Tearoom is restricted to VIPs only. Princess Puddingpuff is very clear regarding that. She said -"

  "Listen, sparkles," Bubblebun thumped a fist to a palm and polished the knuckles. "We're going in. The only question is whether you're going to move or be moved."

  Still, the men remained, albeit trembling.

  Get out of the way you idiots!

  "In the name of Queen Titania, stand aside!" roared Cutiehorn, clattering up the stairs.

  One of the men cowed. The other did not. A moment later, Bubblebun sent him crashing through the door, then hopped right over his unconscious body.

  Cutiehorn groaned, before calling back over her shoulder. "Everything's ok, Cherrychomp! We'll be back soon!"

  Inside, Bubblebun had frozen in place. Despite her inaction, panic was spreading through the theatre like wildfire.

  "Everyone remain calm!" shouted Cutiehorn. "This is royal business! Just... j-just..." The more of Puddingpuff's Tearoom that came into focus, the more her voice retreated. It wasn't the masked customers clambering over luxurious sofas to escape that shocked her so, rather, the reason why they were so quick to flee.

  Almost every law Queen Titania decreed was being broken before their very eyes.

  The entire business was a den of debauchery. Oiled, muscle-bound waiters and scantily-clad provocateurs sought the safety of suspiciously sensual backrooms. Mixologists tried to hide bottles of bright green botanicals, hallucinogenic herbs and frenzying fungi. Addicts desperately downed cream liqueur so they wouldn't have to leave their drinks behind. Smugglers scooped up piles of prohibited purchasables, ranging from the profane to the perverse to the downright perplexing. Worshippers raced to gather outlawed texts and icons of forbidden faith, while bare-chested brawlers ceased beating upon one another to barge through illegally invested observers.

  But worst of all, the in-house fighting pits weren't the only odds offered. At the very center of the improper parlour was a magnifying dome. A giant, rounded window that cut right through the rainbow and provided an eagle-eye view of the hillside's seared scar, not unlike a brass scope. Surrounding it were signboards displaying the innumerable bets on offer, ranging from each Fairy Princess' victory and defeat, to a multitude of potential wounds. Each stabbed Cutiehorn's heart more than the last.

  Bloodshed. Broken bones. Unconsciousness...

  At the very end of the long list, likely added in light of recent events, were words that blurred before Cutiehorn's eyes.

  Loss of limb.

  She wanted to be furious. She wanted to charge right over and pummel the convex window until it shattered, yet she knew that giving into rage would only lead to disaster right now. If there were to be any hope of resolving things peacefully, at least one of them had to keep their cool, and it wasn't going to be Bubblebun. No. She was already frothing like a feral beast.

  "Where's Puddingpuff?" growled the ribboned rabbit. "Where the fuck is she?"

  Suddenly, silence.

  Gone were the cries. No more were the sounds of crashing and smashing. Every person present, be they princess, patron or personnel, be they cowering beneath furniture, peeking from behind curtains, or paused mid-step, was now looking toward the Tearoom's entrance.

  A grey-cloaked figure strode forth, their half-shrouded expression contorted with disdain. A whip of their arms sent the veil to the floor.

  Princess Puddingpuff had arrived.

  Oddly ashen eyes surveyed, passing over milky spillages and toppled furnishings. They flittered between every face present, as if recording all to memory. Pampered skin appeared heavy with exhaustion. Traces of scarlet speckled the ruffled layers of her dress.

  The fanciful fairy was always the first to admit to her lack of combat ability, and yet, in that moment, Cutiehorn's pulse raced and lips panted. She felt like a naughty child caught in the act of great transgression.

  "...Would anyone care to explain?" Puddingpuff spoke with strained calm, a palm pressed to her belly.

  Bubblebun didn't skip a beat. She held out her arms and spun a half-turn, indicating the Tearoom's many illicit activities. "Oh there's some explaining to be done, that's for sure!"

  Lips rolled unsteadily, like they were sucking upon a stinging wasp. Finally, Puddingpuff turned to the patron closest to her. A clearly inebriated, creamy-mouthed man peeking from behind a liqueur-stained sofa.

  "...Get out," she whispered sternly.

  The befuddled fumbled to present a teapot badge, apparently believing that it might allow him to stay.

  Puddingpuff tugged off a glove, before striking the man across the face with the limp lace. "I said get out!" Her voice raised. "All of you! Every barista, smuggler, gambler, dancer, drunkard and pervert. The Tearoom is closed. Remove yourselves from my premises, now!"

  This isn't good. If there are enemies here, they're about to get away!

  Cutiehorn called out over the scrambling customers. "Wait! We just want to talk!"

  But Puddingpuff raised a finger to her lips and closed her eyes, refusing to communicate until the room was clear. It only took a few seconds until the three Fairy Princesses stood alone.

  Knowing just how much anger was brewing within Bubblebun, Cutiehorn took her chance to speak first. She clenched the grip of her shield and tried to keep the fright from her voice. "...Puddingpuff, are you ok?"

  The fanciful fairy waved the question away, instead reaching for a lone teacup that had toppled over, and righted it. The first of many, many such motions required to rectify a mere minute of chaos. "My previous confidants may not have been perfect, but they would never have done anything like this." Puddingpuff sighed. "You could've at least warned me before staging such a miserable show..."

  "Oh boo-fucking-hoo! Don't act innocent." A ribbon-braced digit jabbed at various, disordered evidence. "Intoxicants. Smut. Contraband. I don't even want to know what happens up in those rooms!"

  Puddingpuff followed the finger. "For your information, that one is a prayer room," she said with tremendous smuggery. "Forgive me for believing in freedom of faith."

  Unwavering, Bubblebun pointed to the vast viewing window next. "And this? All the times you were absent from training, you were hiding up here and taking bets on our lives?"

  "Factually incorrect," said Puddingpuff. "Not once have I provided nor accepted odds relating to anyone's survival... merely injuries."

  Bubblebun threw her hands high. "Well shit, bitch, that's just fine then! Why don't you tell us how much you made from the loss of Cutiehorn's arm?"

  "That was as unprofitable as it was unforeseen," said Puddingpuff, "...and very tragic, obviously."

  Rather than allow her own emotions to spiral, Cutiehorn was busy watching her sister's shaking fists. Bubblebun had always struggled with a turbulent temper when it came to immorality, but this was a whole new level of extreme. Her chest heaved with barely contained fury, and Puddingpuff's blasé really wasn't helping matters.

  Cutiehorn edged forth. "We just came to check on you, Puddingpuff. We thought you might be in danger. Show her, Bubblebun."

  The enraged rabbit pulled the twin badges from her pocket and threw them before Puddingpuff's lofty boots. "Found these on your robed friends down in the forest. You know, the maniac ritualists? Just whose blood is that on your dress, anyway?"

  Stolen from its rightful place, this narrative is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

  Puddingpuff kicked at the shapes, causing one to right and roll away. "Tearoom VIP badges," she announced loud and clear. "So you not only storm my business, but you attack my customers too."

  "Aren't you listening?" shouted Bubblebun. "Cut the shit! We're taking you to the Queen, right now. Are you gonna walk, or am I getting the pleasure of dragging your sorry arse through the streets?"

  "Neither," said Puddingpuff. "Didn't Cherrychomp tell you that I was to be left alone? I've rather a lot on, so why don't you bow those fluffy ears of yours, apologise, and bounce."

  Bubblebun lurched on the spot, every insult testing her restraint.

  "Steady!" Cutiehorn quickly put herself between her sisters. "Please, Puddingpuff. Just deny it! Just... tell us that you're still loyal. Please."

  For a tense moment, the only movement was the rolling of lips. The only sound the pit-pat of dripping spillages.

  Puddingpuff reached up and plucked a grey lens from each eye to reveal the pink beneath. Then came a click. A twist. The handle of her parasol came loose. She swung. The shaft and canopy flew free from the hooked handle.

  ...What?

  Sunshine had long speculated that the sisterhood was overdue another faesteel weapon. Little had any of them known, it'd been hidden amongst their ranks the entire time. Now, Puddingpuff brandished that concealed rapier blade towards her sisters.

  What the hel is she thinking?

  Imaginings of potential harm surfaced in Cutiehorn's mind. Memories of Merrymint's and Winterwish's deaths stirred nausea through her core. She'd strength trained for almost a century, yet at that moment she felt as weak as a babe.

  "Have it your way." Bubblebun's fists raised. Thighs tensed.

  "W-wait!" stammered Cutiehorn. "We can't do this! Someone will get hurt!"

  "Yeah, her," said Bubblebun. "Faesteel or no faesteel, she doesn't stand a chance two on one."

  "Dammit, Bubblebun! She's been hiding that sword from us all this time. We don't know what else she has up her sleeve!" Cutiehorn desperately tried to make sense of things.

  Why did she draw on us? She must know this can't end well!

  "Listen to your sibling, Bubblebun," said Puddingpuff. "Everything is under control. Run along and keep your mouth shut."

  Bubblebun growled. "You've got fuck all under control! The only thing you've been taking care of is your greedy pockets!"

  "...Greedy pockets?" Puddingpuff raised her ungloved hand to her mouth. Manicured digits did little to hide her amusement. "Your ungratefulness is truly beyond belief. Perhaps you should think back to how the realm's finances were faring prior to my involvement. You really think your clueless tyrant is to thank for the luxuries you now enjoy? Where do you think your near-endless allowance comes from?" A polite smile. "Complain about my rule-bending all you like, but not once have you stopped to question where the funds for that adorable little orphanage of yours originate..."

  No!

  Cutiehorn stumbled back a step. She cast her eyes over the Tearoom once more. From the blends of ruinous substances to the pain-stained fighting pits, it all disgusted her anew. She could accept the profits from her own misfortune funding the orphanage, but preying upon others? The idea sickened her. She thought they'd been doing something good. Something noble. Yet all along, their every effort had been unknowingly tainted.

  And she wasn't the only one upset.

  "You fucking bitch!" screamed Bubblebun.

  "Perhaps not the best way to address your benevolent benefactor," said Puddingpuff. "Oh, and while I'm dishing out unpalatable truths, if you're going to stay, I'll offer you another serving..."

  Cutiehorn tensed. She couldn't be certain, but the glint in those pink eyes filled her with dread. Dread which tilted further towards full-blown terror when the rapier's tip turned in her direction.

  "Go ahead and tattle to the tyrant if you must," said Puddingpuff. "But know that if you do, I'll be telling everyone exactly what lurks within that silver lie..."

  Dizziness struck. "No!" Cutiehorn tried to grab at Bubblebun's wrist. "We're going! We're leaving!"

  "Like hel we are!" Bubblebun flinched away, but didn't take her eyes off the perceived enemy. "One more word, Puddingpuff. I swear. One. More. Fucking. Word."

  Puddingpuff ignored the seething glare. Cared not for the threat. Pink eyes focused solely on Cutiehorn. Glistening lips parted, ready to bring the whole world crashing down.

  "You really thought I didn't know? That you've been deceiving our sisters for decades? I saw right through your so-called honour and righteousness as easily as I did those hollow curves."

  Cutiehorn's knees struggled to support armour which suddenly felt five times heavier. Titania's horrified expression flashed to mind. The flames of her nightmares licked at her sinful skin. Sweat seeped.

  This isn't happening! This can't be happening!

  All she could do was witness the damning performance.

  "There is one thing I've always wondered, though..." continued Puddingpuff. "Tell me, when the tyrant locked you up in that cell, did you at least bark and bear your teeth for a time? Or did you tuck your tail and yap her tune like a good little dog from the start? Such a loyal hound, exchanging one cage for anoth-"

  Force exploded.

  Shards and splinters showered in Bubblebun's wake. She'd crossed the Tearoom in an instant. She jabbed.

  Thump.

  Puddingpuff was sent hurtling amidst a tempest of broken furniture.

  Through necessity alone came the ability to act once more. Cutiehorn raced forth and threw her arm around Bubblebun. "Stop!"

  "Get off me!" Bubblebun bucked and strained in the grip. "You said you wouldn't hold me back!"

  "This is different!" cried Cutiehorn. "She's our sister!"

  The ballerina's feet found the floor and kicked, sending them both tumbling.

  By far the more acrobatic of the two, Bubblebun flipped to her feet first. "She's not! Just because Titania stored our cocoons in the same garden doesn't make us family!"

  Cutiehorn clunked to a stand. "Regardless, you can't just attack her!" She motioned to the pile of wreckage that Puddingpuff lay amongst. "You're always so quick to criticise others, yet you're the one that lashes out! Can't you see that attacking our allies only makes things worse?"

  The hard truth pushed Bubblebun back a step. Her gaze moistened. "...Didn't you hear any of what she said? I'm sick of this shit, and I know you are too. I see it in your eyes, every fucking day. You're hurt, and you expect me to just accept it? You want me to let these bitches walk all over you?" Ribbons wiped tears. "What if it were me? What if every time you looked into my eyes, you saw pain?"

  "I..." Cutiehorn squeezed at her shield. Its many emblems delivered her no strength.

  "You shouldn't have to live like this!" Bubblebun stamped a foot. "Fuck Titania! Fuck Puddingpuff! When are you going to stand up for yourself?" In the silence that followed, her eyes eventually noticed the aegis shaking in Cutiehorn's frail grip. "...How about this for a name, Spineless."

  It hit Cutiehorn like a slap to the face. "I'm sorry," she barely choked.

  "I don't want an apology." Bubblebun sobbed. "I want us to be happy!"

  Cutiehorn couldn't find the right words. The longer she remained silent, the more Bubblebun shook her head.

  "...I can't do this anymore. Not right now."

  "Wh... What do you mean?" asked Cutiehorn.

  "I mean... I shouldn't have let you come," said Bubblebun. "Take Cherrychomp back to the palace and stay out of my way."

  "Bubblebun no!" Cutiehorn started after her, but for every sabatoned stride, ballet slippers gained two paces. "Wait!" She knew she had no chance of catching Bubblebun should she truly wish to run, but that wouldn't stop her from trying. Cutiehorn spared only a single glance towards Puddingpuff as they raced from the Tearoom.

  Several of the staff and customers that'd remained hidden were venturing out to check on their proprietor. Even the doorman who'd tried to block Bubblebun's entry had regained consciousness, and now brandished a brass butterknife in defense of his mistress. If Cutiehorn hadn't been in such a rush, she might've thought his bravery worthy of respect.

  By the time Cutiehorn made it outside, there was no sign of her closest companion. "Bubblebun!" she screamed into the cold night, yet no response came.

  A crowd had gathered before the Tearoom. They'd been gawking at the hovering Muncher, but now they stared at Cutiehorn. She knew she should try to put them at ease, especially with tensions already high. Yet all her agonised throat could manage was a miserable blubber. Unable to do much else, Cutiehorn fell to her knees and gave up on restraining her sorrow.

  To hel with them. Let them watch. Let them talk.

  Not long after Spineless slipped from her fingers, she felt a subtle weight press to her side. A pair of tiny arms that clung to her body. Cutiehorn tried to blink away the tears to see Cherrychomp hugging her tight.

  The little red fairy seemed even more confused and upset than before, but was trying her best to help. "Merry' says sometimes all people need is an 'ug."

  "Shit... I'm sorry," snivelled Cutiehorn. "I'm trying to keep it together, I swear, but everything keeps going wrong."

  "Is 'k," said Cherrychomp. "We's allowed to be sad, we's allowed to be angry, an' we's allowed to cry."

  Somehow, despite all that had happened, those simple words cradled Cutiehorn's soul. "Did Merrymint tell you that too?"

  "No. A differen' fren'." Cherrychomp helped Cutiehorn up. "C'mon, let's get you 'ome."