The Beanish prince of the Beanbean Kingdom, Prince Peasley, couldn't believe he was finally home after an unexpectedly lengthy two-week-long diplomatic mission to the Mushroom Kingdom. Making amends with Princess Peach and securing mutual aid was routine, but he hadn’t anticipated staying so long. He thought it would be a mere formality as usual, a few days at most, but this time he was proven wrong.
Peasley dismounted from his winged bean steed, his white boots landing softly on the beige cobblestone bridge that spanned the castle's circular moat. He walked between two stone-faced guards flanking the open grand gate of his home, the echoes of cheers and applause still ringing in his ears. A slender saber in a thin, ornate holder hung at his hip, its polished hilt catching the afternoon light as he moved. Behind him, the town square—lush and charming—had been a blur of frantic energy as his subjects welcomed him with boisterous praise. The attention was overwhelming, an unexpected weight pressing on his shoulders after so much time in the Mushroom Kingdom, where he’d gone almost entirely unnoticed.
As he crossed into Beanbean Castle, the atmosphere shifted at once. The air felt heavier here, thick with royal grandeur. His footsteps echoed through the grand foyer, where guards stood watch by the next archway leading deeper into the palace. The soaring walls were lined with elegantly arched recesses, and between each one, the heraldic designs were carved with meticulous precision—a testament to the castle’s long and storied heritage.
The cobblestone path soon gave way to floors of rich emerald and pale green tiles, each one catching the light from the delicate chandeliers above, where small bean-shaped lights cast a soft, green glow. The light reflected off the polished surfaces, making the intricate patterns on the walls shimmer in the quiet atmosphere. Neatly trimmed shrubs sat in planters atop half-pillars placed within the arched frames of the hallway, marking the way to another part of the kingdom. These pillars separated each arch, adding a touch of natural beauty to the lavish setting, with this particular archway leading to the courtyard. Nearby, pea servants moved through the narrow hallway, hardly sparing Peasley a glance as they carried out their tasks with quiet, practiced ease.
As he made his way to the main hall, late afternoon sunlight streamed through the open courtyard, casting a soft glow on the space to his right. Prince Peasley quickened his pace, eager to enter his mother’s presence with tales of his successful mission, hoping to ease her worried mind. He was determined not to add to her already impressive collection of anxieties. After delivering his news, he looked forward to retreating to his chambers for a well-deserved rest, hoping to find a letter from Luigi confirming his trip to the Beanbean Kingdom. Peasley had written to Luigi several times, inviting him to visit, but no reply had come—even the letter he sent just before leaving for the Mushroom Kingdom had gone unanswered. Now, more than a month has passed since he last heard from him, and still, no word. But he clung to a glimmer of hope that his companion would arrive soon, bringing a familiar warmth to his homecoming.
But suddenly the air seemed thick with a sense of something unsaid. Eyes tracked his every movement, whispers drifting in and out of his hearing. Even in his own home, the castle, their gazes lingered on him with a blend of curiosity and reverence. It was almost palpable, especially now that he had returned. Peasley kept his head high and his posture firm, each step carefully maintained under their attention. He was no stranger to admiration, but today there was something else—a subtle tension in the way they watched him, as though their interest went beyond simple gossip.
As he entered the last hallway before the throne room, Peasley passed two servants whose gazes lingered just a beat too long. He gave his perfect blonde hair a playful flick, a knowing smile tugging at the corner of his mouth—but their expressions remained clouded with confusion, their whispers devoid of the usual praise. Peasley slowed, hoping to hear more, but as soon as they noticed, they quickened their pace and fell silent. His smirk faded as he watched them hurry away. Servants who usually greeted him with cheerful nods now avoided his gaze, slipping past as if trying not to be noticed.
The castle’s usual bustle held a tense undercurrent, each servant sidestepping him, their eyes averted. He couldn’t help but feel uneasy, wondering if he had unknowingly done something wrong during his trip. As he walked, he observed every servant he passed, noticing their anxious behavior. Strangely, it seemed to be spreading. He straightened his cape and adjusted the buckle on his belt, hoping the change in his appearance might shake off the odd tension in the air. He ran his fingers through his hair with a practiced fluff, trying to settle back into the confident, composed demeanor he was known for.
When he finally reached the grand doors of the throne room, the guards opened them for him and then closed them softly behind him. Inside, the room’s rich ambiance greeted him: stained glass windows behind the massive throne cast colorful patterns across the floor, and a long red rug with the kingdom’s emblem at the bottom stretched out beneath it. A leaf-patterned rug added a touch of natural elegance beneath the queen, seated high on her towering throne. His mother’s voice filled the room as she spoke with her hunched, wise adviser, but as soon as he stepped in, their conversation stopped abruptly. Both turned to him, their eyes wide with surprise.
Queen Bean rose from her throne, a broad smile lighting her face as she saw her son. Beside her, Lady Lima, the vigilant adviser, remained composed, a weak smile on her lips with her hands locked in front of her.
"Prince Peasley, my darling," she called out, her voice warm but tinged with a trace of concern. "You’re home at last! We’ve been eagerly awaiting your return. Your letters were reassuring, but it feels as though you’ve been gone an eternity."
Peasley’s heart warmed at the sound of her voice, a familiar comfort that eased the tension in his shoulders. He returned her smile, taking in the sight of his mother and the ever-present Lady Lima. For a brief moment, Peasley felt a sense of normalcy, as if he could momentarily set aside the weight of his suspicions and anxieties in this small, familiar moment of calm.
"I missed you as well, Mother," he replied, his voice full of affection and respect. "Indeed, the journey has dragged on endlessly, and the Mushroom Kingdom has descended into utter chaos. Their princess, I must say, possesses quite the penchant for the dramatic!” He teased lightly.
Queen Bean chuckled softly. "Ah, Princess Peach—never a dull moment indeed. I’m just relieved to see you back in one piece. Your safety was my greatest concern." Her eyes softened as she grabbed his body with her huge hands, her grip warm and reassuring.
Peasley stood still as his mother’s eyes swept over him. Her hands moved to tuck a stray lock of hair behind his ear, and he relaxed into the familiar gesture. She straightened his collar with a practiced touch, and though he felt a brief tension in his stomach, he knew it was meant kindly. As she stepped back, Peasley exhaled and offered a small, genuine smile, meeting her gaze with a calmness he had come to expect from these moments.
“You look well,” she murmured, her tone still laced with concern. “It seems the Mushroom Kingdom didn’t rough you up too much. I was so worried something might have happened to you, especially with you being away for so long.”
Peasley chuckled, shaking his head. "Absolutely! It has indeed been a long trip, yet I now eagerly anticipate the promise of repose in my chambers."
Queen Bean nodded, her smile steady. "Of course, my dear. But first, inform me on everything!"
As Peasley shared the details of his journey, he noticed a small shift in Lady Lima’s expression—her smile gradually fading as he spoke. Her eyes, once focused and alert, now seemed distant, and a faint crease appeared between her brows. It was subtle, but it caught his attention. He continued talking to the queen, but an odd feeling began to settle in.
Lady Lima’s detached demeanor only fueled his suspicions. She seemed distracted, lost in thought, as though there was something on her mind that he hadn’t touched on. The more he spoke, his mind kept returning to Lady Lima’s behavior, the nagging feeling that she was hiding something from him. He couldn’t shake the thought any longer. If she was carrying some burden, he needed to uncover it. The unease in him grew, urging him to address it directly.
As the formalities were concluded and nothing else was on his plate, Peasley made time to turn his focus to Lady Lima. After a moment's hesitation, he spoke. "Lady Lima? Might you join me in my chambers at your earliest convenience? There are certain delicate matters of a private nature I would dearly like to discuss with you
The advisor smiled at Peasley, as she nodded. “Of course, my sire. I am presently engaged with your mother's matters; rest assured, I shall attend your chambers at my earliest opportunity..”
Peasley nodded in acknowledgment of Lady Lima's words. While he didn't mind waiting, he couldn’t shake the growing restlessness that settled in as he thought about the upcoming meeting. After excusing himself from the throne room, he took a final glance at his mother and the kingdom’s emblem on the walls before heading toward his chambers. He made his way through several turns and staircases, each step taking him deeper into the heart of the castle, until he finally reached the private wing at the top of the building. The corridor was quieter here, the sound of his footsteps muffled by the plush carpet that lined the floor, and the air felt heavier, marked by the solitude of the space.
His room, along with his mother's and Lady Lima's, lined the grand right wall, with their studies positioned directly across from each of their chambers, creating a secluded, almost fortress-like section of the castle. Six guards—two at each door—stood vigil, their postures rigid and unyielding, their eyes tracking Peasley’s every movement with military precision. As he walked down the hallway toward his room, nestled between the two others, he couldn’t help but feel the weight of their watchful presence, as though every step was being silently observed.
Two guards stood watch outside his room, their posture stiff and alert. They straightened when he approached, and Peasley gave them a friendly nod and a smile. "A pleasure to see you both!" he said, acknowledging their watchful eyes. "I appreciate your diligent watch over my quarters.”
The guards returned his nod with respectful acknowledgment, their posture unwavering as they resumed their watchful stance. He placed both of his hands on each side of the medium-sided double wooden doors detailed with light green metal, as the doors swung open, Peasley took in the sight of his private sanctuary. With a final glance at the dedicated guardians, Peasley stepped into his chambers, the doors closing behind him. He slid the small golden bar lock, mounted on the door, into its secure position with a satisfying click, ensuring the door was firmly locked.
Everything was exactly as he had left it. His canopy golden barred bed, draped in luxurious green and gold linens, pushed on the left wall of the room with two end tables on both sides with unlit candles on top of them. His dark wooden vanity desk, a place of both work and reflection, was spotless with his wooden stool with a green cushion, with his quill and parchment neatly arranged and his makeup supply on the other side organized.
To the other side of the room, the grand glass doors framed inside of the wall lead to the balcony framed with a picturesque view of the castle’s gardens in the back. The curtains match the linen, as it was also green with gold trimming at the bottom, drawn slightly apart, casting a warm glow over the rich furnishings and enhancing the tranquil ambiance. A bookshelf placed into the wall next to it, filled with volumes of knowledge and adventure, lined the walls, their contents untouched in his absence. But finally to the wall to the right sat the door to his bathroom, closed.
Peasley let out a breath he hadn't realized he'd been holding. There was a profound sense of relief in being back within these walls, surrounded by the familiar comforts of his life. After the chaos and uncertainty of the Mushroom Kingdom, this room felt like a haven—a place where he could collect his thoughts and prepare for whatever revelations awaited him.
As Peasley stood in the middle of his room, his gaze flicked around the familiar surroundings, taking in every detail. The sunlight streaming through the tall windows bathed the room in a warm glow. It reflected off the gold bars of the canopy bed, while the soft illumination from the curtains cast gentle shadows across the soft rug under the bed. His gaze flickered towards the small bathroom adjoining his quarters. He felt a pang of exhaustion, the strain of travel and diplomacy finally catching up to him. Though weary, he felt dirty and grime from the long trip. The thought of a nice, warm bath sounded like heaven to him.
He walked over to his dresser, placing his sheath sabre on the bottom drawer of it, and opened the towel drawer above it to retrieve his cotton bathrobe. With the robe in hand, he made his way to the bathroom door, his fingers reaching for the handle. As he opened it, the familiar scent of fragrance and soap enveloped him. Closing the door behind him, he surveyed the spacious room. A porcelain bathtub stood against one wall, covered by a beige curtain, and a sink with a mirror framed in porcelain reflected his weary face. The toilet, positioned beside the sink, was as spotless as ever, a testament to the servants' care.
He removed his gloves with care, followed by his cape, folding it neatly before placing it in the dry sink. Slowly, he peeled off his tunic and shorts before heading to the bathtub. He turned the faucet, adjusting the hot and cold water to just the right temperature. Fully undressed, Peasley tested the water with his hand, ensuring it was perfectly warm. Once satisfied, he stepped into the tub, allowing the water to reach his chest. A relaxed sigh escaped him as he sank into the soothing warmth, feeling the tension of the day begin to fade. The water embraced him, easing his tired muscles as he closed his eyes and allowed himself a moment of peace.
He grabbed the chunk of soap resting on the side, lathering himself slowly, savoring the warmth and solitude of the bathroom. The gentle scents of soap, lotion, and steam filled the air, a perfect backdrop to his thoughts as he cleaned away the day’s fatigue. After finishing, he leaned back, letting the water continue its calming effect, appreciating the rare quiet. His moment of peace was cut short, however, as he realized he had lost track of time—he couldn’t let his skin prune. Sighing in disappointment, he reluctantly stepped out of the bath, wrapping a towel around his waist. The cold air met his damp skin, and he walked to the mirror, inspecting his reflection. His skin was a bit blue from the heat, but thankfully not pruned.
He gathered his clothes, their heaviness reminding him of the need for a wash, and tossed them carelessly onto the dresser. He winced at the mess, but shrugged it off, moving to the vanity desk.
Peasley took a seat and examined his reflection, noting the mess in his hair. Running his fingers through it, he grabbed the brush and began to smooth it out, each stroke a small moment of calm. As the tangles loosened, his mind wandered to the events of the day, the meetings and conversations that had left him feeling drained. The steady rhythm of the brush was a welcome distraction, allowing him to focus on something simple, something orderly.
After a few minutes, his hair was straight, but he wasn’t pleased with the result. It wasn’t his usual style. He reached for the rollers, carefully wrapping strands around each one. He couldn’t afford to let his appearance slip, especially with Lady Lima soon to arrive. As he reached for his makeup, the small jar of foundation felt familiar in his hand—comforting, almost like a ritual. He didn’t think much of it, but he couldn’t shake the sense that something would feel off without it. Then right after, a touch of eyeliner over his eyes with simple lip balm completed the look.
Peasley gave himself one last critical look in the mirror.Satisfied with the results, he spritzed himself with a nearby perfume, then stood, pushed the stool back into place, and lit the candles before slipping into a long, slim white chiffon nightshirt. The delicate lace trim at the hem added a subtle elegance as he prepared for the evening with Lady Lima. The soft fabric draped effortlessly over his frame, catching the glow of the flickering candlelight, while the cool texture of the silk soothed his skin. A soft smile was on his face as he brushed out the small wrinkles with his hands dragged down.
-
He glanced towards the balcony, noticing the room darkening as the sun set, casting longer shadows over the land. The faint glow of twilight crept across the floor, filling the room with a soft, almost melancholic light. It had been some time since he sent for Lady Lima, and the delay was beginning to gnaw at him. His thoughts kept returning to their upcoming meeting. What was taking her so long? In situations like this, she’d usually be right on his heels, her quick steps echoing in the hall. It must have been hours since he reported to his mother, waiting in silence as the evening sky deepened. The anticipation had a tightening effect on his chest, making the air in the room feel heavier.
Sat on the side of his bed, Peasley faced the glass door leading to the balcony, watching the shadows stretch and the first stars twinkle. He couldn't help but wonder what had happened during his absence. Maybe something had delayed her, or perhaps she was busy with other matters. A few minutes more passed before a knock at the door broke the stillness. A mix of relief and mild irritation washed over him. He was frustrated by the wait, but glad she was finally here to meet with him.
He stood and walked toward the door, opening it to find Lady Lima standing outside, a stack of enveloped mail tucked under the long sleeves of her robe. The dim hallway behind her cast long shadows, creating a quiet contrast to the warmth of his room. Despite the delay, Peasley masked his annoyance with a smile as he greeted her. Her expression brightened at the sight of him, and she stepped inside, her eyes briefly scanning the room before settling on him.
"...I trust I am not disturbing your evening, Your Highness?" she said, her voice warm yet laced with urgency.
Peasley stepped back from the door, his irritation already beginning to fade. Her warm tone and the way her expression brightened at the sight of him made it difficult to remain annoyed. While he knew she must have had a good reason for the delay, he couldn't resist teasing her a little.
"Well, no, not really," he replied, his voice still warm with a hint of playfulness. "But you did keep me waiting. I suppose you have a good excuse?"
"Oh! I deeply apologize for my tardiness." she said, tilting her head slightly in an almost remorseful gesture. "I became so thoroughly absorbed in my duties that time slipped by unnoticed. You are well aware, I trust, that when I dedicate myself to a task, all else seems to fade into the background."
“Yes, absolutely aware, Lady Lima. I am quite aware of your demeanor. Is there something of import that I should be privy to?"
The advisor set the stack of mail down on his desk with care, then stepped closer, her eyes fixed intently on his face. With a quick flick of her hand, she signaled the guards to close the chamber doors behind her. A tense silence filled the air as the heavy doors shut, cutting off any chance of eavesdropping. The atmosphere shifted, thick with the tension of unspoken truths. The weight of their shared history in situations like this hung between them, amplifying the urgency in the room. Peasley watched as Lady Lima sighed, the corner of her mouth twitching into a weak smile. He noticed the flicker of unease in her eyes. Despite her efforts to maintain composure, her body language spoke volumes—her hands clasped tightly in front of her, fingers intertwining a little too firmly.
"You're quite perceptive, as always," she said, her voice dropping to a whisper. "It's not just about staying focused... I’ve encountered a... predicament, that's all! No worries.”
Peasley raised an eyebrow at her words, his mind promptly shifting into problem-solving mode. It was rare for Lady Lima to be this visibly disturbed, and that alone was enough to worry him. He took a few steps toward her, closing the distance between them.
"A predicament?" he repeated, his voice firm yet gentle. "What kind of predicament?"
Lady Lima drew a deep breath, her eyes locking with his in a gaze that quickened his pulse. She was horrible at hiding her emotions, especially negative ones. He sensed that something of great consequence was at hand, and her measured hesitation only deepened his concern.
"Well, a minor one. There have been reports of strange noises and sightings in the forest…" she said slowly, her eyes never leaving his face. "Rumors have circulated of a shadowy figure, a light trailing behind it, moving through Chucklehuck Forest. There are also reports of peculiar pathways carved into the foliage near the Chateau de Chucklehuck—paths too vast for any creature we know. I’ve dispatched guards to investigate, but thus far, they’ve uncovered nothing definitive."
She paused, her expression hardening slightly, her eyes drifting ever so slightly to the side. "...We have come to the conclusion that it is most likely the work of pranksters, causing mischief at the brewery and fueling baseless rumors. This kingdom, as you know, thrives on drama, always eager to indulge in its own theatrics."
"But that's not all, is it?" he asked.
"Yes, as far as I know." she replied instantly, glancing away from his gaze.
Peasley’s brow furrowed as he watched Lady Lima’s fingers twitch ever so slightly, the edges of her usual composure beginning to fray. Her voice, though steady at first, betrayed a faint tremor, as if each word carried the weight of something unspoken. When she attempted to downplay the situation, his gaze hardened, his eyes narrowing just enough to signal his disbelief.
He stepped closer to her, his expression sharpening. "No," Peasley said firmly. "I believe not.”
"Your highness, this conversation is over. I plan to send the guards out again tomorrow to search deeper into the Chateau de Chucklehuck. Please, do not fret over these foolish reports."
Peasley's jaw slightly clenched, his usual charm slipping away as Lady Lima abruptly ended the conversation. Her sharp tone grated on him, stirring an irritation he couldn’t ignore. He knew she was trying to shield him, but the way her eyes avoided his spoke volumes. Stepping closer, his posture rigid with determination, his voice dropped into a calm but firm warning.
"This isn’t just about foolish rumors. Something is clearly happening, and you're not telling me everything-" Peasley insisted.
Lady Lima bristled slightly at his insistence, her composed exterior cracking for a moment. Frustration flashed in her eyes, and her jaw tensed as Peasley pressed on. A brief silence hung between them, thick with unspoken strain. But she stubbornly maintained her calm façade, her voice even as she responded.
"You're reading too much into this," she said, her soft tone. "I am simply following protocol. Not every minor incident in this kingdom requires your involvement… I assure you, if your assistance is needed, you’ll be the first to know!"
She turned her back to him, moving toward the doors in a clear gesture of dismissal. The air was tense, as Lady Lima seemed like she was almost physically stepping on pins and needles to escape this confrontation. But as her gaze fell on the stack of letters atop the desk, a glimmer of light green caught her attention. She paused, recognizing the distinct green envelope immediately. Luigi’s letter. Her eyes lit up with realization. Without a word, she swiftly pulled the letter from the pile and held it out to Peasley. His eyes widened as he took it with both hands, a flicker of excitement crossing his face.
"...Oh! It seems the one clad in green has finally written back," Lady Lima remarked, a small smile playing on her lips. "It’s been a while, hasn’t it?".
Peasley's face lit up the moment his eyes landed on the letter, the tension from their earlier exchange dissipating almost instantly. Taking the light green letter from her, he gently held it, feeling the weight of eagerness settle in his chest. The flicker of guilt that crossed Lady Lima’s face from his peripheral view didn’t register in his mind; he was too focused on the envelope. He couldn’t believe Luigi had finally written back to him, the thought of not being forgotten making his heart thump with eagerness. As he gently held the letter, a smile crept onto his face, the corners of his mouth lifting in delight. The warmth of hope spread through him, momentarily pushing aside the frustration from moments before. Lost in thoughts of what Luigi might have written, the prospect of their connection brightened the atmosphere around him. In that moment, all he knew was the letter, and everything else faded into the background.
"Well, it seems that your patience has finally been rewarded, it arrived here when you departed to the Mushroom Kingdom, he’s been waiting for quite some time for you." she said, her tone softening just a bit.
Peasley’s gaze shifted from the letter to Lady Lima, his frustration still simmering beneath the surface. Yet, as his fingers traced the envelope's edges, he could push any other emotion besides happiness to the side. The coarse texture of the paper under his fingertips was calming, a reminder of the person who had sent it. His heart softened at the thought of Luigi, imagining him setting aside time to write.
He held the letter close to his chest, as if it were a precious treasure.
"Oh yes! it is so!" he said, a hint of excitement in his voice. "I can't wait to see what it says. It's been far too long since I've heard from Luigi!"
"Then I shall take my leave. Goodnight, Your Highness."
Without a word, she pushed the double doors open, stepping through with her quiet authority with her hands instinctively folding behind her back in her usual composed manner. The guards flinched slightly, stealing a glance into Peasley’s room before quickly dropping their gazes under the weight of her stern look.
Peasley stood still, eyes trailing after her retreating figure, as he watched the guards swiftly close the doors again. Moving toward the door, he quietly locked it before quickly making his way to the bed, where he sat at the edge of the mattress. The letter remained clutched in his hands, the weight of anticipation heavy in his chest. Taking a deep breath, he carefully tore open the envelope and pulled out the letter inside. Unfolding the slightly crumpled paper with deliberate care, his heart raced as his eyes began to scan the words;
~
Oh gosh, where do I even start? This whole past month has been chaos! With Mario away, I’ve been left running around like crazy, handling all the errands and tasks he usually helps with! I barely had a second to sit down between deliveries, fixing things, and just trying to keep everything from falling apart. Every time I thought I was done, something else came up! I’ve never been this exhausted.
But—finally, finally—I’m free! I can't tell you how relieved I am to have some time again, and guess what? I can finally visit you! It feels like ages since we last saw each other, and I’ve been thinking about it the whole time I was rushing around. I’m so happy to be coming to see you soon. I can’t wait to catch up—I’ve missed our time together!
Peasley couldn't help but smile as he read through the letter, his heart swelling with warmth. It all made so much sense in Luigi's absence. The familiar, rambling style brought comfort, and Peasley could practically hear Luigi's voice in his head, imagining his frantic pace. The thought of Luigi rushing around, trying to keep things together alone, made Peasley chuckle softly to himself. But more than that, it was the thought of seeing Luigi again that made his heart race. The idea of Luigi coming to visit, spending time together after so long apart, filled him with excitement. He read the letter again, savoring each word, letting it sink in.
As Peasley finished reading for the third time, he placed the letter carefully on his bedside table, smoothing it out gently as though it were a precious relic. He leaned back against the plush cushions of his bed, staring up at the ceiling, feeling lighter than he had in days. The friction from the earlier conversation with Lady Lima faded into the background, his mind now focused solely on the happiness the letter had brought him.With a contented sigh, Peasley rose from his bed and made his way to the vanity. He looked at his reflection, his mind still replaying Luigi's words. His makeup had been applied carefully earlier, but now he wanted to relax completely. He reached for a cloth and some makeup remover, dabbing and rubbing gently at his face as he wiped away the layers of powder and blush. As the familiar strokes of his routine soothed him, he couldn't help but hum quietly to himself. He glanced at his reflection once more, now bare-faced and relaxed, feeling lighter both physically and emotionally. The letter had calmed his nerves, and for the first time in a while, he felt like he could let go of the day's stress.
Peasley turned away from the mirror and returned to his bed, slipping beneath the soft, welcoming covers. As he settled into the mattress, he let his mind wander back to thoughts of Luigi—their reunion, their shared laughter, the effortless warmth of their friendship. A gentle smile touched his lips, and a wave of calm washed over him, filling the room with a quiet, reassuring warmth. As his eyes grew heavy, the image of Luigi remained vivid, a beacon in the soft glow of his dreams. Peasley allowed himself to drift, heart light, spirit content, and anticipation blossoming quietly within him. Tomorrow held new possibilities, and as sleep took him, he knew he’d meet them with glee.
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