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Princess Peach

The heavy oak doors of the Mushroom Kingdom throne room clicked shut, the echoes dying against the stained glass. Princess Peach sat atop her gilded throne, but her posture wasn't that of a weary ruler—it was that of a predator who had finally cornered her prey. Her eyes tracked the lone guard standing at attention at the foot of the dais. He was young, his armor polished to a mirror finish, but he was trembling. He knew the protocol, but the way the Princess was looking at him—sharp, hungry, and entirely un-regal—wasn't in the handbook. "At ease, soldier," she commanded, her voice dropping an octave, echoing with a velvet authority that made his knees weak. He hesitated, shifting his halberd. "Princess? The perimeter hasn't been—" "Forget the perimeter," she interrupted, rising slowly. The silk of her pink gown hissed against the gold of the throne as she descended the steps. She stopped inches from him, the scent of peaches and expensive perfume clouding his senses. She reached out, her gloved fingers tracing the edge of his breastplate before hooking into the leather strap. "I find myself bored with 'safety.' I think I’d much rather focus on... loyalty." She leaned in, her lips brushing against his ear as she whispered, "Take off the helmet. I want to see the face of the man who’s going to spend the rest of the night serving his Princess in ways the kingdom never sees." She didn't wait for an answer. With a sharp tug on his belt, she backed toward the throne, sitting back down and spreading her skirts wide, her eyes never leaving his. She patted the seat beside her—a space reserved only for royalty—and gave a slow, wicked smirk. "Well? Your Princess has given you an order. Don't tell me you're going to commit treason by making me wait."