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Princess Pansy's Peckish Problems	By : Mousse Category: Harry Potter > Het - Male/Female > Harry/Pansy Views: 21557 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: This story is a work of fiction and not a work of profit. Some lines are taken off from and some scenes resemble that of Reign (tv show) but, I do not own Harry Potter or Reign. History has no bearing in this narrative.

Chapter List
- 5
- 6
Draco notched his arrow on his bow and stretched the bowstring up to his cheek. He shut an eye close and focused on the very center of the target board. Taking a deep breath, he steadied his arms and angled himself properly before letting loose of the bowstring as he exhaled. He watched as his arrow sailed across the air and pierced the middle of the inner Yellow circle of the target board. A resounding applause greeted his success and the game official ran from his post in order to judge his aim. When the officer straightened, he raised a Green flag.
“L'oeil de Bull! Prince Draco est le gagnant!” (Bull’s eye! Prince Draco is the winner!) He shouted to the crowd.
More cheers and praises rand throughout the open field and Draco smiled charmingly at his audience, slightly amused at the audible sighs of the female population. His attention was caught by the five ladies sitting at the edge of the archery field, in particular, the girl with Black hair and eyes. He saw her rolling her eyes at the females’ reaction and he smirk at her. Apparently, the girl saw him and she stared at him with an unimpressed gaze. Once upon a time, she would have reacted the same way as most girls but, after suffering at the hands of his family as well as him, she developed a hard exterior.
She was slowly returning to life but, he could still see the visage of a broken woman underneath the mask of nonchalance and the air of privilege that she exudes. A week after his proposition to her, she became even more daring than before. She openly bandied with people, people whom she would never dream of conversing and laughing with. She took up lessons she thought of as boring and she started attending Court meetings even though she wasn’t needed. Her attitude baffled most of the people but, it was a welcomed change.
They thought of it as her maturing and realizing her responsibilities as a Princess and in the near future, as the new Queen of Scotland. Even his parents, who were normally dismissive and reluctant about her, were impressed by her sudden dedication and astounding knowledge. It wasn’t surprising to find the three engaged in an in-depth conversation about politics, trading systems, and land reforms. He was happy that she was finally overcoming the pain and heartbreak that she bore within months in France but, whenever she was alone with him, he would find her distant and withdrawn. It was only then did he realize that everything she was projecting outside was merely a façade to hide her sadness.
He did his best to quell her loneliness through pleasure but, even that momentary escape was more than enough to bring tears to her eyes. Forgetting would be a difficult task for her as every single thing that she does remind her of him. He knew long ago that she was the kind of girl that gives her heart completely. He likes to associate her Rooks as the animals mate for life. She was the same and he feared that she may end up living a lonely life without the love she has found.
               He knew of her situation very well. He may have no chance to announce it but, he found someone to love. He didn’t expect it but, when he felt it, he didn’t hesitate to seize it. He knew that going into a secret relationship was risky but, he was willing to try. He loved seeing her smile, hearing her talk, feeling her skin on his, and he especially loved it when her sweet scent floated to his nose, filling his sense with her and only her.
               He never wanted to let her go but, with his annulled engagement with Pansy and his upcoming marriage with the English Princess, he had to. It was difficult for both of them but, it was much more unbearable this time. Even if he wanted to see her, he had to settle for looking at her from afar. He had done observing her for quite some time after their separation and this was the second time in months that he would see her much closer. He desired to gaze at her longer but, one look at her face says that he shouldn’t linger much longer.
               Turning back, he stared at his opponent, who was obviously gawking at the five seated ladies he was just eyeing a moment earlier. He cleared his throat, hoping that it would help catch the other male’s attention. It didn’t. The dirty-Blonde, Portuguese Prince kept on ogling at the girls, a certain brunette in particular and it irked him to no end. He cleared his throat once more, this time a little bit louder and thankfully, the goggling Princeling finally tore his eyes from the girls in exchange for a mildly concealed sneer directed at him.
               Repressing his urge to jeer back at him for his obvious and disgusting staring, Draco smiled at him, even if it was tense and forced. He didn’t want to act inappropriate and humiliate France just because he found the Portuguese Prince highly perverted. He spent almost half of the time eyeing up girls and the other half was spent with bragging and tongue-in-the-cheek suggestions to further improve his aim when in truth, Draco’s aim was a thousand times better than his. He wanted nothing more for this little exhibition game to be over so that he could get away from the annoying and mind-numbing company of Prince Zacharias. If only he wasn’t the French Prince, he wouldn’t be subjected to such menial tasks such as entertaining and being hospitable with someone who he highly doubts would be useful to France.
               Guests have begun to arrive to the Palace of Fontainebleau for a week now and several allies, including Portugal, have been invited to attend his impending marriage happening after two months’ time. He didn’t question his Father about his decision of inviting Portugal, even if the elder Malfoy found the Portuguese to a bit overbearing to the point of being infuriating, because he was the King and it’s expected that the King invite his allies to his successor’s wedding as part of social customs but, at this point, he wanted to forgo traditions and niceties and send the Prince back to his country. He was on the verge of breaking point and if he had to spend one more day in his presence, he would absolutely go mental.      The way the Portuguese Prince lord his way inside his home grated on his nerves so much that servants and soldiers avoid him as much as possible in order not to provoke him any further. He admitted to himself that he, himself, was arrogant and egotistic but, he knows his limitations unlike Prince Zacharias, whose personality can be described as obnoxious, condescending, degenerate and a hypocritical ingrate.
               He wanted to take him down a peg or two and his brilliant Mother suggested that they play archery as it happened to be the favourite sport of the loathsome Prince. It was supposed to be a small affair with minimal number of audience but, since his Mother had a hand in almost everything, it became public knowledge. He hoped that the Portuguese would show him some talent since he bragged that he was the best archer in Portugal but, even before the first round ended, Draco already saw that it was particularly easy to win against him although, Zacharias seemed oblivious to the fact that he was dismal at the sport as he continued to show-off his non-existent skills. Being pompous himself, he didn’t restrain his lips from the snide remarks rolling off his tongue and by the end of the second round, Zacharias barely hit any of the target as he was seething hotly. Draco didn’t even bother acknowledging him during the third round as he knew that he would win the match by a landslide and true to form, he did win, much to his expectations and his parents’ pride.
               Seeing the obvious frown on the Prince’s face was more than enough consolation for the time he wasted with his company. Of course, he enjoyed mocking him but, freedom from his haughty comments and self-important attitude was something much more pleasurable and welcomed. Knowing that he succeeded in showing the repulsive boy his deficiencies, he pulled out his gloves and offered a hand for him to take. He didn’t want to touch the other man but, in order to show camaraderie and spirit, he had to.
“Good match.” He said, his voice deceivingly warm and friendly.
               Prince Zacharias scowled deeply but, shook his hands nonetheless. His lips twitched.
“If you would like, I could accompany you for target practice. I can’t help but notice earlier that you have a certain inclination for…long range archery. I understand that you find the palace a bit small and your movements are a bit restricted which I see affected your superb skills. I can help you adjust by showing techniques for short distance.” Draco offered, innocently. Inwardly, he was bustling with amusement as he watched Zacharias’ face redden within 0.9 seconds from the insinuation. The Prince tore his grasp from his hand as if it was a hot poker and stalked away, muttering and fuming under his breath.
               At his sudden departure, the crowd murmured but, Draco merely chuckled. He turned around when he heard the soft footfalls of a servant running towards him. The portly man was carrying a Silver tray with a single White rose on top. He stopped and bowed, offering the tray at him and he picked up the flower, smelling the blossom and inhaled its delicate scent. Holding out his bow for the servant to take, he walked forward, in the direction where the five females were seated and stopped until he was in front of Pansy. As he knelt before her, the crowd stirred more, speculations flying from here and there but, he ignored the noise as he pulled his gaze up at her.
“Will you accept my favour, Pansy, future Queen of Scots?” He asked as he offered the flower. The girl looked at him, bewildered.
“Have I offended?” He inquired once more.
“Not at all. Thank you, Draco. I’m honoured.” The young Scottish Princess exclaimed, smiling at him wanly.
               He sprung up and extended his hand for her to take. She stared at it for a minute before gingerly taking his hand and let herself be pulled to her full height. He tucked her hand on his elbow and together, they swept away from the field and into the quiet of the gardens, leaving behind the buzzing and raving of the public and the inquisitive, suspicious gazes of his Father and Mother. They walked in silence as they took in the beautiful scenery around them, the sound of water and the shaking of leaves play as music in their rather quaint party. They stopped at a rather secluded area with thick shrubs and abundant trees before facing one another and simultaneously crashed their lips together.
               Pansy snaked her arms around his waist, her dainty palms resting against his back as his hands travelled to cup her cheek and find home on her tailbone. Their mouths moved in perfect harmony as they nibbled and nipped each other, their tongues swirling and teeth clashing. They broke apart when they heard the rustling of leaves, angry stomps, and incoherent grumbles from beyond the cover of the bushes and the two stood as stiff as a board, waiting for whatever or whoever pass. They strained their ears as they tried to make out the owners of the voices they heard. Pansy gasped in recognition and Draco instantly placed a hand on her mouth as he glared at her harshly, his eyes speaking what his lips couldn’t.
               The girl glared back, not pleased by his gesture but, the fair-haired Prince didn’t notice her. He was staring at the entrance of their hiding spot, his Grey eyes hardening as he recognized the voice.
“…humilhe-me!... bastardo podre…juro que eu ...” (…humiliate me!...rotten bastard…swear I…) The voice, gruff and hefty, belonged to no other than the Portuguese Prince. Educated with at least ten languages, Draco realized that the subject of the Princeling’s ire was him. He merely rolled his eyes at the immaturity of his behaviour.
“Por favor, o Príncipe Zacharias…fale corajosamente…ouvir você…” (Please, Prince Zacharias…speak boldly…hear you…) Another voice, this one much softer and obviously feminine, pleaded. His brows furrowed as he contemplated on the identity of the voice.
“Silêncio!” (Silence!) A resounding clap echoed through the gardens as Prince Zacharias struck his female companion. Draco gritted his teeth at his cruelty and disrespect for his servants. Beside him, Pansy growled lowly in her throat, obviously sharing his discontentment with the Portuguese. The detestable man continued to berate his retainer, much to their abhorrence.
“... muito mais sua preocupação! Você é apenas um sevantado…o que fazer…aqui comigo…mulher inútil!” (...much more your concern! You’re just a servant…what to do…here with me…useless woman!) Once more, a thunderous slap rang within the greenery followed by a soft thud coupled with a pained whimper. A mocking snort escaped from the Prince.
“Como...esse pai...surpreendentemente com você...durma com ele?... o seduziu para que... procure outros homens...desde...mas nunca me diga o que para fazer ou eu vou...” (How...that Father would...amazing about you...sleep with him?...seduced him so that...to look for other men...as long as...but, never tell me what to do or I will...) The man threatened. A grunt of agony reached his ears and he could only imagine what Zacharias did to the female servant. He felt Pansy struggle underneath his hold and he tightened his grip on her. She bit his hand and he hissed in pain, retracting his abused palm from her face as he glared at her harshly.
               She merely pushed him, stalking towards the light and Draco followed her in alarm. She was a step away from the cover of the bushes when he finally caught her wrist and pulled her once more into the bleak darkness.
“What are you doing? Let go of me.” Pansy ordered, twisting her arm from his hand in an attempt to get free but, the blonde’s hold only tightened. He pulled her closer until they were nose-to-nose, his eyes flashing dangerously against the minimal amount of light flittered in between the leaves.
“Keep quiet. He will hear you.” He whispered, sternly.
“I do not care if he hears me. He’s abusing his servant. A woman.” She seethed.
“I am aware of that but, we can’t risk the chance of being seen.”
“Is your reputation that important that you will prioritize it over the life of another person even if it is a servant’s life? I didn’t realize that you are that unsympathetic.” Pansy mocked as her face grew unforgiving. Before he could express a retort, the Portuguese Prince spoke, his voice clearer as they were nearer than before.
“Levante-se. Não me faça arrastá-lo daqui até a taberna. Já desperdicei o meu tempo do jogo idiota de tiro com arco. Eu não quero passar muito do meu tempo com você quando posso negociar com ele.” (Stand up. Don't make me drag you from here to the tavern. I've already wasted my time from the idiotic archery game. I don't want to spend much of my time with you when I can be negotiating with him.)
               Ears perked up at Zacharias’ statement. Draco looked down at Pansy to see her staring at him with wide eyes. He merely placed a finger on his lips indicating that she remain silent as they waited for any other information.
“Ele chegou ao lugar da reunião, Sua Alteza. Eu acredito que ele está com outra pessoa.” (He's arrived at the meeting place, Your Highness. I believe that he's with another person.) The female exclaimed, her voice shaking, evidence of her Master’s mistreatment.
“Outra pessoa? Eu especificamente disse-lhe para transmitir-lhe para não trazer excesso de bagagem para a França! Mais pessoas aumentariam o risco de ser pego! Mais uma vez, você prova ser um detrimento do que ajuda!” (Another person? I specifically told you to relay to him not to bring excess baggage to France! More people would increase the risk of getting caught! Yet again, you prove to be more of a detriment than help!) Zacharias shouted as a booming slap thundered through the air.
“Perdoe-me, meu príncipe. Eu disse a ele um par de vezes, mas, ele era o mais insistente. Ele acredita que o homem que ele trouxe seria útil para a causa.” (Forgive me, My Prince. I have told him a couple of times but, he was most insistent. He believes that the man he brought along would be helpful to the cause.) She sniffled.
“Eu serei o juiz disso. Venha agora. Fiquei aqui por muito tempo. Não posso deixá-lo esperar por mais tempo ou ele pode agir por sua própria vontade. Não vai fazer Portugal bom se ele criar uma ação indesejada.” (I will be the judge of that. Come along now. I have stayed here far too long. I can't let him wait for me any longer or he might act on his own accord. It won't do Portugal any good if he creates an unwanted action.) The Prince announced ominously.
               Footsteps sounded and the pair shuffled back to the dark, silencing their breaths as Zacharias passed followed by his scurrying maid. As she passed by, they saw the darkening bruises colouring both of her cheeks and both of them were appalled by the gravity of her injuries. When their footfalls finally faded, they emerged from the canopy of verdures and into the bright sunlight.
“What do you suppose the “cause” is?” Pansy questioned, sitting at a stone bench near a perfectly trimmed Rosemary bush.
“I have several ideas in mind but, I’m much more interested with who he’s meeting.” He answered, observing the soft Violet petals of the bush in front of him.
“Yes, so am I. Do you think that these men are his fellows or…” She let her query hang as she saw the contraction of his jaw.
“We can’t speculate right now. What we need is evidence.” Draco announced, Grey eyes connecting with Black.
“What do you propose?”
“I will keep an eye on him.”
“You mean to spy on him?” She asked, her brows shooting to the roof of her forehead.
“Is something wrong with that?” He shot back, his lips curling into a sneer. Pansy rolled her eyes.
“Maybe you’re forgetting the matter of you upcoming marriage, Draco. With all the guests and foreign dignitaries you have to entertain, you won’t have time to play detective. You should pass the responsibility to someone else, possibly someone you can trust.” The young woman responded, primly and the fair-haired Prince gave her a rather long measuring look that made her particularly incensed.
“You only need to say it if you don’t have the confidence in me.” She said, miffed.
“It’s not like that, Pansy. We might be mistaken here but, if I were to drag you into this matter deeper, you might fall into jeopardy. You have to remember, you are Scotland’s future.” He explained.
“And so are you. France’s future and fate rests on your shoulders. We are in the same boat, Draco so, there is no need for you to shelter me from the dangers of the world. In case you’ve forgotten, I’ve been exposed to threats ever since I was a child. I wouldn’t be here if I was safe in my own country.” She reasoned, her dark eyes fierce.
               Draco stared down at her, searching her face for any hint of hesitation, anything at all that he could use to stop her but, her expression never faltered. He was impressed of her determination but, at the same time, saddened that the sweet girl he met when he was six and once again, when he was sixteen, vanished and in her place was a woman, a Queen of her own right. With her headstrong personality, he knew he had to relent to her wish. He sighed.
“You can do as you wish but, my parents need to hear this, especially my Father. He might have a more concrete idea regarding what the “cause” may be.” He stated.
“Well, no better time to tell them than the present.” She announced, standing up from her seat and looked expectantly at him. His lips twitched in amusement at her eagerness and he indulged her by offering his arm for her.
               Taking it, they began their journey to his parents, stopping at times to gain information from the servants regarding his parents and when they finally received a unanimous answer, they proceeded to the Council Room. As the doors opened, they were met with mild chatter and it only ceased when an aide announced their presence to the occupants of the room.
“Draco, Pansy. To what do we owe your visit?” His Mother, Narcissa, inquired, walking towards him and held his hand.
“Hello, Mother. Pansy and I have something to discuss with you and Father.” He replied, Grey eyes sweeping from his mother’s Sapphire eyes to his Father’s questioning gaze. He noticed a man with greasy, Black hair and hooked nose standing beside his Father, his eyes widening as recognition hit him.
“Uncle Severus, you have returned.”
               Eyes turned to look at the pale man and his expression soured from the sudden attention. Draco enjoyed seeing his Uncle squirm and judging by the nasty glare he was sending him, he knew that Severus was far from pleased with him.
“It’s delightful to be back at Court, Your Highness.” He drawled, his voice far from elated.
“I trust that your journey has been agreeable?” The fair-haired Prince asked, his curiosity rising out of him.
“Quite. I had reported to you Father my observations and sentiments.” Severus responded, seemingly uninterested but, his shining dark eyes tells a different tale.
“And?”
“You will find yourself quite…challenged, I’m afraid.”
               Draco smirked lightly. He could always trust Severus to pique his interest. It’s no wonder that his Father had sent Severus Snape, his Godfather, appointed tutor, and his Father’s trusted advisor, to be the French envoy to voyage through the seas to England in order to build more bridges and establish trust for both ends. He was also tasked to observe the English Prince and Princess as a royal protocol. He has been absent from Court for five months since the beginning his assignment, sending the occasional letter to him asking about his studies as well as his responsibilities as the Crowned Prince.
He would, at times, ask his Godfather about his life in England but, the man would evade the question. He knew of the Severus’ previous life in the posh country. He discovered that he was an Englishman by birth and that he was the son of a commoner and a noble lady. As the offspring of such a scandalous relationship, his childhood was not stellar and bright. His mother’s family disdained for his “impure” blood and his father often neglected him as he was more concerned with fighting with his mother and on several occasions, abusing him. He knew nothing how Severus survived such an unforgiving upbringing only that when he was sixteen, he was accepted in the English palace as an aide for the English envoy, Albus Dumbledore.
From then on, it seemed that his life was easier than before but, Draco caught on quick. Being the guarded person that his Godfather is, he knew that he was keeping secrets from him but, he never once forced him to tell him. He respected him and he was grateful for the knowledge he imparted with him. He might be detached, snarky, and a tad bit awkward but, Severus Snape is one of the best men he had ever met. He may have no idea how he ended up here in France and will never want to know but, he was glad that he chose to live here, giving him not only a Godfather but, also a friend.
“Let us talk about Severus’ adventure later. For now, enlighten us with your reason for this interruption, Draco.” His Father, Lucius, ordered, his deep baritone voice booming.
“It’s kind of…private, My King.” Pansy said for the first time she entered.
               Understanding her request, Lucius immediately dismissed his Council, promising to resume their meeting at the earliest time possible. No one seemed to be bothered that Severus remained, knowing that it is normal for him to be beside the King unless he was ordered to leave. As the last of the Council member exited, the doors closed, sealing the five inside the extravagant room and lulling them into a much more sombre mood.
“Now that we are alone, what is it that you wish to tell us?” The King probed, padding to the refreshment table to pour himself a glass of wine.
“Before we begin to explain, I would like to remind you that this is all speculation. Nothing is concrete and I would like all of you to promise that this will not be spoken to anyone.” The young woman advised, her Obsidian eyes sweeping at every face before landing back to the King’s.
“You have our word, Your Highness.” Lucius expressed, sincerely.
               Her Black eyes glanced at Narcissa, who tilted her head in agreement and at Severus, who nodded once, briskly. Satisfied, she looked back up at the Platinum-Blonde haired boy on her arm who looked back at her with a serious expression. She saw a subtle nod, indicating that she be the one to begin.
“Prince Zacharias might be plotting something.” She declared.
               The atmosphere of the chamber turned as if it was submerged into the deepest crevice of the earth. It was both hot and cold, the air stale and still as if it was sucked right out of their lungs. Even the sweet song of birds stopped, replaced by the muffled howling and barking of Pansy’s Scottish Terrier, Bain. The dog’s yowling only added to the ominous undercurrent, making standing unbearable and uncomfortable. He felt Pansy grip his arm tighter as they waited for the three adults to acknowledge them. They didn’t have to wait long as they were startled by Lucius when he banged his goblet on the mahogany table, rattling the furniture down to its legs, a few quills and parchments falling to the floor into a messy pile.
“Bâtard gluant. Je le savais.” (Slimy bastard. I knew it.) The King growled, primitively, Silver eyes hardening into a pair of Steel orbs.
“What are you saying, Father?” Draco questioned, his brows creating a crease in between is eyes.
“We’ve been suspecting that Portugal has been planning against France for a while now. What you’ve said just solidified that suspicion.” Narcissa sighed, sinking into a nearby chair as she rubbed a finger on her temple.
“If you knew, why haven’t you done anything?” Pansy grilled.
“It’s not that easy, dear. Portugal has been allied with France for years. We can’t simply dismiss them with mere speculation on our part. They easily take offense at the simplest of matters and without an explanation, us severing our alliance with them would cause war to both our countries.” The Queen enlightened, jadedly.
“How about spying on them? Surely, that will produce results.” The fair-haired Prince remarked, his face upturned.
“We already sent spies to Portugal but, none of them brought back satisfactory reports. I’ve been gathering information from my travels and I’ve only managed to get miniscule results.” Severus defended.
“With these information you gathered, I expect that you have a significant amount of idea regarding their motive?” Draco inquired, his brow quirking upward in a manner that can only be described as provoking.
“In a manner, yes but, as it is, we lack evidence.” Lucius replied.
“We are more than willing to aid you.” Pansy proclaimed, boldly. The King blinked at her.
“Your Highness, I beg your pardon but, this matter does not concern you.” Severus retorted, sneering at her as if she was a petulant child.
“I beg to differ. I am as involved in this as you are. I am under the jurisdiction of France, making me a subject. You may disagree with me but, you cannot deny that I am a resident of France much more that I am a dweller of Scotland. As a living citizen of this country, I am entitled to show and vocalize my concern.” She reasoned, eloquently, her chin raised confidently as she argued her point.
               Draco understood her case. She spent more years here at France rather than in her own country. She was basically their citizen even if Scottish blood flows through her veins and it was a fact that his parents seemed to agree. He could see it in their faces that they share the same sentiments as Pansy and they see her worth (finally).
“Perhaps, we should give the Princess a chance, Severus. After all, she does have the knowledge and skill of a true-blooded royalty. We should give her the opportunity to show her capabilities. We do need all the help we can get, after all.” Lucius verbalized, much to the shock of Severus.
               As far as he knew, the royal couple was far from welcoming to the Scottish Princess. They didn’t like her presence within the palace as she proved to be a simpering girl panting over their son. While it can be interpreted as simply being devoted, to him and the Malfoys, it was downright obsession. The girl showed her interest with his Godson in the early age of six and while it was endearing to some, it was highly appropriate for him and his two royal friends. He was thankful that he didn’t have to endure watching Draco and Pansy flirting around the castle as he was assigned to travel to England but, apparently, his time in the foreign land changed plenty of things.
               Not only were Narcissa and Lucius being friendly with the Princess, they were regarding her as if she was their equal. He knew from the beginning that the Malfoys were proud beings and they do not mingle with anyone unworthy or inadequate to be in their presence. They made their thoughts about Pansy clear from the start, claiming that although she was a girl blessed with money, land, and title, she was comparable with any other girl throughout the country with her attitude. There was nothing spectacular about her as she was average at best but, suddenly having the recognition of Lucius made him wonder if she had more substance than he gave her credit for. He wasn’t positive that she, indeed, has the confidence of the King but, one look in his eyes made him certain.
               If Lucius has faith in her then, Narcissa did, too. Sure enough, the blonde woman was staring at Pansy with a small smile, if a bit indulgent and that was everything he needed to quash down his refusal to involve the Scot into their internal affairs. As if reading his every thought, Lucius smirked and Severus merely hardened his expression, refusing to show his true feelings.
“It is settled then, Your Highness. You have every right to assist us in any way you wish.” The King announced.
               She inclined her head slowly, savouring her victory. The devilish glint in her eyes suggests that there is no doubt that she would use any means possible to prove to the Court that a snake slithered inside this intricate garden of politics. If he wanted to play, she will play and it will end with her prey in between her lips.
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Princess Pansy's Peckish Problems