Keiko checked her lens as the locks on the door to her prison released one by one and her masked captor re-entered the space, a simple paper and plastic bag combo in his hand. Even as shuttles ferried pedestrians above the crowded streets and weapons fired concentrated pockets of magicka, takeout hadn’t changed much over the years. She couldn’t help the faintest of smiles at the image the human struck before her, clad in his armor, mask, and cloak while toting their dinner home to his little lair.

“Is something amusing, lady Keiko?” He asked casually, having disabled the modulation of his voice again. Her smile faded at his annoying familiarity and she glared defiantly at him.

“Not anymore.”

“I suppose I shouldn’t be surprised. I am still the enemy, am I not?”

“That just about sums it up, mercenary,” she spat, crossing her arms over her body as his eyes took in her form, her toned midriff and sloped shoulders on full display thanks to her state of dress. Keiko watched as his gaze lingered on her navel, his attention captured by the magicite teardrop piercing lined by a golden border. She thought he might even question her about it, but his next words returned to the subject of their meal.

“Be that as it may, would you care to join me for dinner?” He asked, touching the wall next to where his terminal rested and gently catching a small table that folded down into the space. A couple of cushions that sat within the small alcove the table occupied when not in use were collected and placed one to each side. He seated himself cross-legged at the knee-high table and reached into the bag to withdraw all manner of food cartons. Keiko winced as her stomach growled in discomfort. The sound was clearly audible to the mercenary as he paused his setting of the table to gaze at her with sympathetic eyes. “I’m sorry I was gone so long. Please.” He motioned to a handful of open containers that were now wafting steam and delicious scents into the room. She could feel her mouth watering.

“You’re not fooling anyone,” Keiko growled, nevertheless pushing herself off of the floor and walking over to him, a task made more difficult thanks to her bindings. He nodded, promptly removing them and stashing them away before gesturing to the other cushion. Keiko sat conservatively, folding her legs under her body and surveying the table. True to her request he’d acquired a fine selection of barbequed meats.

Chicken, pork, beef, and lamb were arrayed before her along with a tray of various dipping sauces, chopped scallions, hot peppers, and various pickled vegetables. Better yet they all looked like natural cuts, marbled with fat or sinew. It was nothing compared to the sumptuous feasts of the palace, but it was not cheap either. That and it smelled positively delightful. She took a set of disposable chopsticks from where they laid next to the bag, watching tentatively as he snapped his apart with practiced ease. Keiko looked down at hers for a moment, pulling slowly on the ends until her hands jumped apart with a sudden snap. She’d not managed to separate them fully and now she had one short stick and one with an extra weight at the end. Her ears flattened with embarrassment as she looked down at her lap, only to see a fresh, cleanly severed pair extend into her field of vision. She swapped with him.

“I imagine this is your first time,” he said understandingly. "It's best if you apply the force a bit higher, tends to break cleaner." Keiko gasped as she raised her head to look at him, holding onto his pair of utensils as he dug in using hers. “What?” He asked, a piece of beef halfway to his mouth. “You already deduced what it is I am, lady Keiko. I must say it’s a tad refreshing to eat without the mask in the presence of company.”

Do you kidnap all your so called company? She wanted to snark back, but found herself shocked into silence instead. Here she was after twenty five years of life, raised on tales and fables of the gentle, uplifting grace of humanity, their golden age, and their eventual disappearance. Now she was sitting across the table from a live human, a real flesh and blood creature that needed to eat and drink. He possessed a thick crop of short, raven black hair, now visible as he lifted the rest of his helmet from his head and chewed his first piece of meat. Well manicured stubble reached from his hairline down and along the edge of his prominent, angled jawbone, lending his lower cheeks and chin a permanent shadow. His neck and lips were cleanly shaven and she couldn’t see a scar anywhere on his visage, though she spent much more time looking at his eyes now that she had an unobstructed view. Those hazel orbs watched her intently as he chewed with purpose, an animated and piercing reminder that the statues and monuments were just that, relics. The real thing was a delight to behold. If only he wasn’t who he was. The thought wounded her deeply. Another growl of her stomach brought her back.

“I might stare as well, lady Keiko, but your food is getting cold,” he encouraged, navigating expertly around the spices, garnishes, and sauces in spite of his slightly mangled chopsticks. She took hers daintily between the pads of her fingers.

“Thank you for the chopsticks...and not making fun of me,” she whispered before taking a piece of chicken and dipping it into a brown sauce that she soon discovered was flavored with mustard. After her long day of being walked through the streets the taste was heaven. She wolfed it down and went for another piece, finding the human’s armored hand extending the plate of chopped scallions to her. She easily picked up their fragrant smell and added a handful to the sauce, unable to stop the sound of contentment that slipped past her lips on her second bite. The mercenary said nothing, calmly continuing his meal with a contented look on his face. The surreal reality of the situation was too much for Keiko.

“Real meat isn't cheap. How did you pay?” She asked, breaking the silence.

“Disposable credit chit, single use. Cheap to make and store. Wonderful for avoiding less than scrupulous intermediaries as well if you can find encrypted ones,” he replied easily, clearly unfazed at sharing some of the tricks of the trade with her.

“And no one asked why a single person was buying food for two?”

“Other than the fact that that’s hardly uncommon, no one asks much when this mask asks for the barbeque dinner special. So long as my credits are good, which they always are, everyone goes on their merry way. Besides, real meat commands a bit of a premium these days now that synthetics are everywhere and passable in taste. They take less time, less resources, and less skill to prepare. I daresay the chef was positively thrilled when a masked man with a fat pocket showed up asking for dinner for two, hold the synth meat.”

“And just like that a mercenary finds himself dinner.” Keiko teased. He shrugged.

“We eat just like everyone else, my lady. I have no servants to prepare me my meals, and I am only human.”

Keiko’s ears twitched at that statement, faintly jingling the thin gold chains that hung suspended between four golden studs on the outer shell of each ear. “Yes...you are. And while I appreciate the spread before us I did not choose to be born to my station, mercenary,” she replied fiercely, pride easily getting the better of her child-like amazement. She’d had an hour alone to process that little revelation, after all.

“Nor I mine, and yet here we are sharing the same meal. I notice that for all your interest in my methods you didn’t make any attempt to discern if the meat was poisoned.”

“All that trouble just to poison me at dinner? That’s the least intelligent thing you’ve said all day,” she said, her filling stomach bolstering her courage and settling some of her nerves. He laughed loudly and withdrew a bottle of water from the bag, taking a deep swig before handing her a second.

“Other than that little bit with my net jockey and the jaguar cock I think you might be right. Thought the ringing would never stop in that ear. Ah, my apologies princess," he paused at the shocked look on her face. "Cock is street slang for-”

“I KNOW WHAT IT MEANS!” She yelped, feeling the blood rush to her cheeks and ears. “So you do have yourself a crude streak behind that supposed class of yours.”

“I believe so. Hard not to in my line of work. I meant no offense, my lady. Just a bit of levity is all. I will try to watch my words.”

“You’ll do that for me but letting me go is too much,” she lamented to herself, taking another frustrated bite. The lamb was delectably juicy, coating her tongue with liquid fat and the flavor of a tangy barbeque sauce.

“Yes, lady Keiko. Letting you go would be too much,” he affirmed, apparently taking her comment seriously. “Oh, the restroom is behind the baobab silhouette. Light pressure should do.”

The princess looked at him curiously, wondering how in the world he could have known. Dabbing her muzzle with a disposable napkin, she stood and padded over to the tree he’d indicated. A gentle press of her hand caused the panel to shift back and to the side, revealing a small but quite clean bathroom complete with a standing shower encased in glass. As the door shut behind her she noted that the LEDs within the walls had dimmed to the purple of dusk, allowing the warm light of the lantern above to dominate the space. A few minutes later she returned and the two of them finished their meal in silence, with the mercenary clearing things away when she was finished. Keiko looked his way after taking a final moment to lick the last remnants of animal fat and sauce off the short fur of her muzzle. “What happens now?”

He turned to face her after tying off the plastic outer bag of the takeout and brought his fingers to his chin in thought. “I suppose you’re not in the mood for conversation, my lady?”

“Of course I am! A living, breathing human is standing feet from me, talking to me. I want to ask you about everything! But of course there’s the tiny little problem that you abducted me at gunpoint and are holding me hostage for unknown ends and an unknown length of time.”

“Perhaps that’s for the better,” he said quietly, glancing over to the futon. “I doubt my answers would satisfy any of your questions. Myths and tales have no place in reality.”

Keiko felt her heart sink at his words, wondering why she placed any hope of anything in him in the first place. It’s just because he’s the first human I’ve ever… she reasoned, looking back to her small satchel where it rested against the wall. “Where can I put my things?”

“I apologize, my lady, but I don’t typically host anyone here for extended stays. For now you may use whatever space you like near the futon. Should circumstances permit it, I will do my best to supply you with other necessities tomorrow. Within reason, of course.”

“Yes yes, because all of this is so very reasonable,” she fumed, turning away from him and collecting her bag. She cradled it to her chest as she walked to the far corner of the room and knelt down to go through its contents, feeling his eyes on her every second of the way.

Her personal datapad was functional but effectively in offline mode until further notice thanks to the security measures he'd built into the safehouse. It would be a timely distraction, but nothing else. She had clothing and undergarments, but not many and certainly not much variety. The only other item she’d managed to grab was a small holographic projection device, one she used to model and re-arrange the plants and decorations of her solar before executing the final vision. She brushed a white-furred finger gently along its edges and activated it against her better judgment. The tears came almost immediately. She did her best to remain quiet and not show him her weakness. Keiko knew he saw right through her.

“I-”

“Shut up!” She screamed. “Unless the next words out of your mouth are about how this has all been a colossal misunderstanding and I’m free to go just...shut up. You are a miserable excuse for a human,” she wept, deactivating the hologram and stashing it safely in her satchel. He allowed her free reign as she pressed against the wall and retreated to the bathroom, collapsing against the white tiled floor as the door closed behind her and sealed the two of them apart. Unseen by the anthro princess her human captor did just the same, head in his hands as he heaved a defeated sigh.

"She wasn't supposed to be that beautiful."

-----

Keiko cried until her tears ran dry, lamenting nothing more or less than the death of any remaining freedom she had in life. She wasn't sure how long it took. She hadn't bothered looking at her lenses. With a shaking breath she pushed herself to her feet and walked to the sink, her claws clicking softly on the tiles.

"By the wise ones, I look a mess," she declared, seeing how the makeup in her fur had streaked due to her tears. The jagged white pattern below each eye was faintly visible now, like a burst of magicka or a fan of daggers. Her handmaidens had insisted on covering them with black to match the fur that surrounded the rest of her orbits, to give her a subtle and feminine appeal for her new lord. There was no need to play cute for a mercenary. With a shrug she activated the tap, pleased to find warm running water pouring over her paws. A few minutes of scrubbing later and she was clean and unblemished, her bloodshot eyes returning to white as she calmed herself and gazed at her reflection.

"I suppose that is the one silver lining," she admitted. "That gift is still mine to give away...for now." Keiko undid the wrap of her pedestrian garb, allowing it to fall to the floor before rummaging through her satchel for one of her nightgowns. It was a beautiful thing, a curtain of fine silk interwoven not with synthetic lights, as much intimate garb was in Alhamkara, but with an organic network of bioluminescent fibers that shimmered as soon as her body heat reached them, shrouding her in a dark and swirling veil that was designed to mimic the infinite depths of a magicite crystal. "Time to face him again."

Seth raised his head from his datapad as the door to the bathroom slowly slid open after almost two hours of silence. He was about to say something, anything, but the princess managed to steal his breath away yet again. She was clad in a shimmering silk gown that hung delicately from her shoulders and breasts, and her face had changed. In that moment he realized he was finally seeing Keiko, without alteration or embellishment. The white fur beneath her eyes made those golden orbs as the sun rising above the seas, practically radiating light. He knew he was staring; he couldn't help it.

Keiko felt her ears moving as she tried to hold the mercenary's gaze, twisting her leg back and forth on the pads of her foot. Males in the palace would glance discretely or not at all. He was making no mask of his intentions. His muscular frame now sported a pair of loose fitting and unremarkable combat trousers, as well as a form fitting undershirt that left nothing to the imagination. When his stare became too much she looked to his right, seeing his armor resting on a stand within a small alcove. The helm, breastplate, and arms were held by a half mannequin with the leg armor and boots settled neatly below. His weapons hung from the wall on either side. She noted the curved blade she'd tried to steal as well as a heavily modified magitech pistol and a longer blade that he'd not used when he'd come for her. She was brought back to the present by his voice, even deeper than she remembered.

"I was wrong about you, lady Keiko. I had assumed the videos and images were doctored to cover up flaws or to perfect the imperfect for the sake of the crown. It turns out it was quite the opposite. Tell me, why do they hide such wild beauty from the world?"

Keiko's heart lodged in her throat and she clasped her hands behind her back. The human had remained seated with his personal datapad, not moving or threatening with any action. It was just words, the words of a vile kidnapper no less, someone who had surely killed many a person in his time. And yet they cut to her core, made her chest thrum.

"You are referring to my eyes?" She eventually replied. He nodded.

"Your Lord Torando does not appreciate the pattern?"

"My handmaidens thought it best to present myself modestly."

"Then the fault is with your future husband," he concluded, resting an elbow on his crossed knee and taking her in. She managed a glare for him.

"I don't know why I'm even talking to you," she spat. Maddeningly, of course, he took that as an invitation to continue.

"Because staring daggers at one another would be dreadfully dull. As things stand I don't trust you enough to not betray me the moment I reveal my own agenda to you. You're out of your element to be sure but you're no fool, princess. I see you looking, watching everything. You're wondering why you're here, unbound perhaps? Why I'm not just collecting my pay and dumping you with some mnyama boss who would, as you say, delight in breaking that body of yours."

Keiko shuddered, his words evoking that primal fear every woman was capable of feeling, that a stronger, brutish man would take her in his own way. "The fates are whimsical and cruel, mercenary. I escape the surrender of myself to Lord Torando...and yet my first night with a man will be you instead," she lamented, looking down at the futon between them. "You know much about me, it seems. You've even seen my true face, as you pointed out. Will you at least tell me your name?" She requested softly, unashamed at using her feminine appeal to persuade him. He gazed at her in contemplation before bending at the waist to grab the pillow from the left side of the futon.

"My lady should take the bed this evening," he insisted, laying down on the tatami floor and continuing his reading with his head against the pillow. Keiko felt her mouth drop open as she pulled back the comforter to what she supposed was now her futon for the night.

"You would go that far just to hide your name?" She asked, feeling her weary body accept his bed all too willingly.

"Seth. My name is Seth."

"Just Seth?" She whispered, turning on her side to look at him and getting a fine glimpse of his toned arms and chest.

"Just Seth, my lady."

"I see."

"Shall I dim the lights, my lady?"

"Why did you take me, Seth?"

The mercenary fell silent a moment, wondering at how deftly his name, in her silken voice, twisted between his ribs like a sharp blade. For the briefest of instants he wanted to spill everything to her, his parents and his vendettas. He blinked twice and brought himself under control. "I told you, my lady, for my own selfish reasons."

"You betrayed your employer," she observed. It wasn't a question. With a wave of his hand Seth dimmed the lanterns, the only remaining light being pinpricks on the walls that emulated the stars above the savannah, far from the light pollution of Alhamkara's capital.

"Goodnight, my lady." He wished her well from the cover of darkness.

In spite of herself, the downy futon and soft blanket quickly carried Keiko away from the waking world.

-----

“Captain, we’re in place. All squads prepped for breach and clear. No hostile contacts. Preparing the charges now.” Idris Octavia acknowledged the message and refocused on the barricaded metal doors across the alley from him. They were covered in graffiti and what he knew to be blood. Vines and overgrowth in and on the building completed the scene of a hostile operating zone in a literal concrete jungle, a place the Sekhama were not meant to tread.

“This smells worse than the incinerators in the middle of a heatwave,” he muttered to his first lieutenant. The leopard looked up at his captain, an imposing behemoth of a lion, well scarred from his years of service to the royal family and clad in heavy urban combat armor.

“You think we’ll get to her in time, sir?”

“She isn’t here,” he growled with certitude.

“Then why are we-”

“The kidnapper puts out a deep fake of her highness in the hands of the Trang’aul. The only people dumb enough to believe something like that are the conspiracy nutcases on the web and the Trang’aul themselves. Could have kept their heads but no, they decided to push their luck and extort the crown for money. And so here we are. Did it strike you as odd how an entire platoon of Sekhama managed to travel through miles of slums without encountering any mnyama resistance at all? I’ve been fighting those bastards for years, killed more than my share. Any other day I’d have been in a half dozen firefights by now. Today? Nothing. Every boss with a pair of brain cells to rub together is laying low and letting the Trang’aul dig their own graves, graves I’m happy to fill. At this point our net specs are more likely to find her highness than we are. It’s been too long and there are too many places to hide in this city. But we can at least do this. We can grieve for lady Keiko later, remain focused on the task at hand.”

Four green lights had appeared on the captain’s visor. He grabbed the heavy ballistic shield from his back and drew his sidearm. Affectionately nicknamed ‘The Cobra’, that particular magicka revolver relied on a custom armor piercing modification that fired a dual stage burst for each trigger pull. The first impact would be a gravity warping slug that weakened and degraded all but the best designed ballistic materials. The follow up would then shatter whatever armor lay between it and its victim, killing via shrapnel, blunt trauma, or penetration. Most gangs enjoyed the flashier weapons, ones that ignited, froze, or shocked their targets. They were spectacular and easily countered. The captain cared only for a weapon that would kill whenever he pulled the trigger. The magicite heat sinks were incredibly expensive, but the crown’s pockets were deep and his effectiveness in the field had ensured acceptable returns on the investment.

“Alpha, final check,” Octavia ordered.

“Rooftop charge placed and primed.”

“Beta, final check.”

“Second floor charge placed and primed.”

“Gamma, final check.”

“Basement infiltrated, ready to move.”

“Main charge placed and primed,” the captain finished, manipulating his HUD to ensure a coordinated detonation. “Delta ready to take point. You boys finish this without a reload and drinks are on me tonight. Now let’s clear us a hyena den.”