I could feel him pressed against me. I felt the warmth of his arm on my waist. I could feel his breath on my neck, where dried kisses lay. Our legs were intertwined and his hands rests on my bare thigh. He was asleep.

I wanted to wake him. Wanted him to kiss me more. But I knew once he wakes, it'll be off to work for him. 

So I let him be.

The dinner had gone well. Bowsers advisers' were pleased that something good was finally happening for them. I played the queen role perfectly. Bowser rewarded me with endless kisses.

I feel him move and I turn so that we're facing each other. He opens his eyes to look at me, then closes them and smiles. I kiss him softly. He responds immediately, turning me on my back and leaning over me. He kisses me deeply and wraps his arm around my waist when I arch my back and dig my fingers into his hair. 

"Peach," he breathes, breaking the kiss.

I knew what was coming. He has to work.

But instead, he says, "I can't wait until we can wake up like this everyday... and do more than we're allowed to right now." He smiles devilishly.

I giggle and blush. "Bowser!" However much I adored him and his kisses, losing my virginity was still a scary thing. I don't know if I'm ready. 

He smiles. "I'm kidding." He stares at me so intently for so long, I look at the ceiling. He sighs happily and falls beside me, pulling me to him. "Although, I have to admit, I can't wait until we can be together all day."

I nod, eating up his words. "Yes. Maybe, since I'm going to be queen soon, you can start teaching me more about your people."

I feel him tense and regret my words. But then, what did I say to regret? 

"Peach, we've been over this. My advisers don't want-"

I sigh. "Right. I know. I'm sorry."

"Peach..." he groans when I stand, pulling my nightgown down. 

I shake my head. "It's fine, Bowser. I get it. My title means nothing here."

He shakes his head and pulls me back towards him, against my will. "I don't care what your title is. It's you, Peach, the girl behind the crown, that I've learned to love."

"Learned to love?" I ask, my voice breaking.

He smiles sheepishly.

"Oh, Bowser! I love you too!" I shower him with kisses. 

I hear his deep laugh and our kisses slow, growing more serious. I pull away. "You have work to do, Your Majesty," I tease.

"Nooo," he whines.

I giggle and tip-toe over to my closet. I dig through my assortment of gowns, all of them purples and dark blues and black. I didn't mind, though. Black was much more fitting these days. War was not a time for my old wardrobe of pink. 

I feel him wrap his arms around me and I shake my head. "I have to get ready."

He starts kissing my neck, almost making me lose myself. Almost. I pull away and wave my finger in his face. "No. You have work and I have eavesdropping to get to."

He chuckles. "You are trouble."

I smile and shrug. I knew I was trouble. But my whole life I've eavesdropped. Otherwise I wouldn't have known that there was a very fine marksman named Mario who was quickly moving on up on the social ladder. Or that the maids and guards often dated and married. Or, biggest of all, that my father has cancer. 

Here, I haven't heard anything big, just that the servants should get better and bigger meals. Otherwise, it's pretty quiet. But I'm bound to find out something interesting soon. At least a little bit of drama about who's dating who and who stole what. I didn't know anyone, but it's something to wonder about when you're bored out of your mind. 

He kisses my forehead. "I suppose you are right, though. I have to get to work." He runs a hand through his bright red hair. I stood up on my toes and kiss him. "I love you," I whisper.

He hugs me tight. "I love you."

He walks away and I grab a sleek black dress off of the rack. I pull it on. It's floor-length and have a slit in the front that goes down to my belly-button. The fabric meets again at the back of the neck, where translucent black ribbons dangle to the floor. I slip on a simple pair of black heels and brush some black powder on my eyelids and apply mascara. I wipe the drop-off and leave my room. 

My room. 

It's strange to have something that I know is mine. Sure, I had 'my' room at the palace, but everyone would always barge in without asking. It was never truly mine. 

I shut the door and step into the hall and run straight into the chest of the one person I don't want to see. The person who haunts my nightmares (which I would never admit to Bowser.) I look up into his face and gulp.

"Hello, Princess."

Morton Koopa.