Pawliday Love

7. A Ruler’s Work is Never Done

CHAPTER SEVEN

A RULER’S WORK IS NEVER DONE

HIS EXALTED EXCELLENCE, EMPEROR GREMLIN BARTHOLOMEW DUNN-ROSS THE MAGNIFICENT, DUKE OF MISCHIEF

I t was quiet. The chaos of the day had subsided and everyone was tucked away in their bed. From my perch atop the couch, I surveyed my domain. My hard work had paid off. The humans would never admit it, but this holiday success was all me.

The tilted tree stood proudly, glimmering with those shiny orbs I had so graciously repositioned earlier. My eyes flicked toward one ornament dangling precariously from a branch. I watched it for a moment, my instincts kicking in. The temptation to knock it down was strong, but I resisted. For the time being.

Instead, I stretched lazily, letting my claws sink into the new small, soft blanket that now occupied my throne. It was perfect. Plush, warm, and—most importantly—mine.

Mom had given it to me, but I’d caught Sebastian rolling his eyes and laughing when I immediately claimed it. He’d muttered something about “what royalty wants.”

Royalty.

He was learning.

Speaking of Sebastian…

He was snoring in the bedroom now, probably with Mom curled up beside him. They were disgustingly cute, those two. And if you’d told me a year ago that I’d be okay with him sharing my space, I’d have bitten you.

I hopped down from the couch and padded over to the small pile of new gifts left open in the corner. My present sat among them: a plush toy shaped like a fish, filled with the finest catnip.

“Merry Christmas, Gremlin,” he’d said, handing it to me. How he managed to wrap it without me seeing was beyond me. When I’d immediately pounced on it, he’d laughed, calling me a “crazy little thing.”

I’d ignored him at the time, too busy kicking the life out of my new fish. But now, as I batted the toy lazily, I had to admit, it wasn’t awful having him around. I mean he’d done a passable job on everything—with my guidance, of course. Proof that maybe, just maybe, he wasn’t entirely useless.

For the first time, I decided Sebastian wasn’t just some intruder anymore. He was part of the family. My family.

Dad , I supposed.

But if he thought that meant I’d go easy on him, he was sorely mistaken.

I sauntered toward the bedroom, tail held high. The door was cracked just enough for me to slip through.

Earlier that morning, when they’d locked me out of the bedroom, I’d taken it personally. How dare they think they could just shut me out like that? But I’d forgiven them, of course. I’d paid them back in the only way I knew how: by creating chaos with the tree. I considered it a fair trade.

Mom was draped across Dad’s chest, her hand curled near his shoulder. His arm was around her, holding her close even in sleep.

For a moment, I just sat there, watching them. They were a mess, but they were my mess. And somehow, against all odds, they’d managed to create a beautiful life together. Even if they needed a little help from time to time.

I hopped up onto the bed, carefully maneuvering between them. Mom stirred slightly, her eyes fluttering open just enough to notice me.

“What do you think, Remmy?” she murmured, her voice sweet and soft. She looked at me with that smile, the one that always made my chest feel warm. “Best Christmas yet, huh?”

I took a moment to remember the day. Mom and Dad had smiled the whole time. And Joey was enamored by all the decorations and presents. Her little smile made my heart full. Don’t tell anyone.

Dad stirred then, blinking his eyes open until they landed on me. He smiled, and it gave me that same warm feeling.

Weird.

I climbed up onto Dad’s chest, settling myself in the loaf position. His chest rose and fell beneath me, steady and warm. Had I finally found the perfect spot?!

“Looks like you’ve been accepted,” Mom teased, her voice sleepy. Dad smiled, his hand gently brushing my back.

“Looks like it.”

“Don’t push it,” I told them, though I didn’t move. Dad’s chest was warm, and his hand started scratching behind my ear in a way that was annoyingly perfect.

I purred, the sound rumbling in my chest as I closed my eyes.

Yes, my work here was done.

For now.

Hollis Kay is the pen name of a stressed-out mom who’s addicted to caffeine and has a passion for words.

When she’s not writing, she’s reading, working, gaming, or spending time with her small zoo (also known as ‘family’) which includes a small human-sized tornado known as a toddler, a grumpy cat with a mustache, a goofy brown dog who has no concept of personal pace, and a loving husband.

Hollis has enjoyed writing since she was young and followed her dreams to share her ideas with the world.