Morning arrived with soft rain, but Lucien remained buried under his blanket.
"I can't do it," he groaned. "I can't handle two powerful women, royal politics, and skeleton diplomacy..."
A polite knock interrupted his despair.
"My Lord," Mordekai called. "A letter has arrived. It's... royal."
Lucien sat up like he'd been struck by lightning. "Royal?! Like—capital royal?!"
"Yes. From the Holy Empire of Aurelia."
Lucien paled. "That's where the King lives! The one who hates Dark Lords!"
He opened the envelope with trembling fingers:
> To Lord Lucien, Dark Ruler of the South,
You are hereby invited to the Royal Peace Ball.
Bring a date. Formal attire required. No curses allowed at dinner.
Sincerely,
King Aurelius of Aurelia
Lucien dropped the letter.
"I'm going to die at a party."
---
Panic and Planning
"A royal ball? That's just a trap with snacks!" Lucien paced the castle hallway.
"Or an opportunity to show your peaceful nature," Mordekai suggested.
"I don't have a peaceful nature! Just panic and plunger skills!"
Sylvara entered calmly. "I will go with you."
Lucien blinked. "You want to?"
"Elves support peace. And I enjoy parties."
Then Iris leaned against the doorway. "I'm going too."
"You're both...?"
"Yes," they said in unison.
Lucien stared at the ceiling. "I'm going to die in a tuxedo."
---
Getting Ready
Mordekai presented two outfits: one elegant, one enchanted.
Lucien grabbed the second. "Definitely taking the one that resists poison, fire, and awkward conversation."
Sylvara helped him practice dancing. She floated gracefully. He stepped on her toes.
"You're terrible," Iris said, arms crossed.
"Thanks," Lucien muttered.
"Good." She turned away... maybe with a small smile?
---
The Ball
The Royal Palace gleamed under moonlight.
Sylvara was radiant in emerald. Iris, in a white-and-gold gown, kept her sword "just in case."
Lucien, sweating in enchanted black silk, whispered, "I'm not ready."
"Just don't talk," Iris offered.
Inside, music sparkled and nobles whispered:
> "That's the new Dark Lord?" "Why is he with two beautiful women?"
Lucien tugged at his collar. "I want to go home."
Then: "Presenting: His Majesty, King Aurelius!"
The King approached—tall, crowned, cold-eyed.
"Lord Lucien," he said. "Try not to ruin anything."
Lucien bowed. "No curses, I promise."
The King walked away.
Lucien sighed in relief—then stepped on someone.
"OUCH!"
He looked down. A tiny princess in a frilly pink dress hopped on one foot.
"I'm sorry! I didn't see you!" he panicked.
Gasps.
"He attacked a princess!"
"I JUST HAVE BIG SHOES!"
Knights reached for weapons.
Sylvara readied a spell. Iris drew her blade.
"STOP!" Lucien shouted. "It was an accident!"
The King raised a hand. "Enough. Clearly a mistake."
The princess sniffled. "He stepped really hard."
"I'll send cookies," Lucien said. "Chocolate chip?"
"…Okay," she said, and smiled.
Crisis narrowly avoided.
---
Moments Later
Lucien slumped in a chair.
"Stepped on royalty. Made peace with baked goods. Might be a joke for centuries."
Mordekai handed him a drink. "At least you're still alive, My Lord."
Lucien nodded, exhausted.
Then a servant appeared with a tray.
"A gift from the nobles of the North."
A goblet of bright purple wine shimmered ominously.
"That's suspicious," Lucien muttered.
"It's probably poison," Mordekai whispered. "That color is called Royal Regret."
Lucien sighed. "Maybe just a sip."
"NO—"
Too late.
"…Oh," Lucien said. "That's delicious."
Then he collapsed back into the chair.
---
Lucien's Brain, Five Seconds Later
Floating on pink clouds, Lucien hugged a giant shadow puppy.
"You understand me," he whispered.
---
Meanwhile, Reality
Lucien leapt onto a table, eyes sparkling.
"I am Lord Lucien! King of Shadows! Ruler of Puppies! And—AND—the DANCE KING!"
Gasps.
"Someone drugged him," Sylvara said.
"He just moonwalked into the royal dessert table!" Iris yelled.
Lucien declared, "I CLAIM THIS CAKE IN THE NAME OF DARKNESS!"
And faceplanted into frosting.
---
One Hour Later
Lucien woke in a guest room, covered in sugar.
Mordekai hovered nearby. "Mild chaos potion. Nothing fatal."
Sylvara sat by the bed. "I threatened the wine-gifters."
"You what?"
"Said I'd turn their bones into flutes."
"…Thanks?"
Iris appeared in the doorway.
"Next time, don't drink glowing stuff."
"Lesson learned," Lucien muttered.
---
Back Home... For Five Minutes
Lucien finally relaxed.
Soft pajamas. Warm tea. No nobles.
"I'm safe now," he sighed.
But in the bathroom mirror… something stirred.
A shadowy figure stepped out, dagger in hand.
---
Battle in the Bathroom
Lucien opened the door, humming.
A masked assassin crouched beside the toilet.
They locked eyes.
"Uh… hi?" Lucien blinked.
"MORDEKAAAAAI!"
Lucien grabbed the toilet plunger. "En garde, toilet ninja!"
Daggers flew. Towels screamed. Soap flew like ice.
Mordekai phased through the wall. Sylvara teleported in. Iris kicked down the door.
They found Lucien in a towel, wielding a plunger, chasing the assassin.
"What… is happening?" Iris said flatly.
"I'M FIGHTING FOR MY LIFE!"
Sylvara bound the assassin in vines. Iris knocked them out.
Lucien collapsed. "I just wanted bubbles…"
---
Interrogation
In the dungeon, the assassin was chained.
Lucien, wrapped in a blanket, asked, "Who sent you?"
"You're not scary," the assassin scoffed.
Lucien gestured. "Sylvara?"
She stepped forward, eyes glowing.
"Let's discuss your bones."
The assassin paled.
Lucien turned to Mordekai. "Get a notebook. We have questions."