"Well, we could hardly refuse your invitation," he replies, because they couldn't. Once she had invited them, they found themselves completely unable to avoid showing up at the appointed time and place and stepping through the portal to her lavishly appointed palace.

He takes her hand and brushes it with his lips. Magical powers unheard of anywhere in the kingdom are a reason to be more polite, not less.

"Woof," the prince's companion adds.

"That's quite alright, dear," the Queen tells him. "We all have our little ... quirks."

She takes a drag from her cigarette.

"Oh! But where are my manors? Please allow me to introduce Laura Antikipia, without whom this meeting would certainly not have been possible."

Laura is a significantly less refined woman. She shuts down the machine generating the portal, and steps away from its smooth chrome console. It clashes horribly with the elegant red furnishings of the rest of the room.

"Charmed, I'm sure," she replies somewhat sardonically. Her most striking feature is certainly her eyes, which click and whir as their lenses focus on the most recent guests.

"Laura, these are His Majesty Prince Sharbono, and His Grace Duke Lovelace," the Queen continues, blissfully ignoring the less-than-gentile tone.

"Now that we all know each other, why don't we move to the dining room?" she suggests, with calm assurance that makes it an order.

Prince Sharbono offers his arm to Laura, who takes it with one raised eyebrow. They follow their host down a short corridor — the windows of which show an endless expanse of red sand — and into a spacious and well-lit dining room, where dinner for four has already been set.

One of the chairs has a small set of steps and no utensils set out, so it's obvious enough where everyone is meant to sit. He pulls out chairs for the two ladies, and then seats himself beside Duke Lovelace.

The Queen unfolds her napkin with indecent haste.

"Dig in, everyone. I do hope you enjoy the salad — it is from the latest batch of our experimental aquaponics," she explains, nodding at Laura.

Watching the Queen eat is an experience. She is delicate, graceful, and always uses the appropriate fork. Despite that, she packs the opening course, a rich Caesar salad, away with alarming haste. Her plate is clean well before the others have eaten even half of their servings.

The Prince catches himself staring, and then looks away.

"Yes, this is a fine lettuce," he agrees, despite not having any particular opinions on the lettuce. "But I wonder if you would be willing to reveal why it is you chose to invite us? Surely not just to share a fine meal?"

She leans back and steeples her fingers.

"My planet ... is having something of a defense problem," she admits. "I will admit that I started it, many years ago. But I have since tried to make peace many times, with little success."

She snaps her fingers, and a projector clicks on, showing an image of a costumed man with a thermometer on his chest.

"The main problem is this man — Mr. Fahrenheit, they call him. A 'superhero'."

Disdain drips from the word like blood from the end of a knife.

"He can move incredibly fast, able to breeze past even my best defenses. What's worse, he can share a fraction of that speed with other people, allowing him to effectively hand out superpowers to his chosen lieutenants."

"Woof," Duke Lovelace replies, licking his chops.

"Yes, as his grace said, Your Majesty. I just don't see how you expect us to help," the Prince exclaims. Plus, the last thing he needs is to get his country embroiled in a war on another planet.

"Defenses capable of dealing with superspeed on Mr. Fahrenheit's level are ... incredibly rare," she explains.

A waiter comes out with the next course — a thick beef stew, lightly seasoned, and rolls fresh from the oven.

"Ah, thank you. So — with my darling Laura's assistance — I have looked through hundreds of worlds to find anything suited to the job. And I think your water buffalo could be just the ticket." 

The Prince splutters for a moment. "What? But, water buffalo? They're not special. Everybody has a water buffalo," he asserts.

"I haven't got a water buffalo," Laura interjects. "I've never had a water buffalo."

The Duke laps some (cool) soup, and then barks thoughtfully.

"That's just it, your grace. Would you say your water buffalo is fast?" the Queen asks, tearing into a roll. After she poses her question, she takes a deep whiff of the steam, luxuriating in the scent.

Duke Lovelace nods.

"But you, your majesty," she says, gesturing at the prince with a bit of bread. "I suspect if I were to ask, you would tell me Duke Lovelace's water buffalo is slow. Is that right?"

"Well yes, that's true," he agrees. "That's basic buffalo relativity. My water buffalo is fast but yours is slow."

"And have you ever studied why that is?" Laura interjects, leaning forward in interest. "It violates my world's relativity principle, because water buffalo move much slower than the speed of light. Any answer, really, has fascinating implications for how we might be able to match — or counter — Mr. Fahrenheit's speed."

The prince nods thoughtfully. "And what do you get out of this, Mrs. Antikipia?" he asks, buttering his own roll.

"Miss, please. I'm not particularly interested in marriage."

She glances over at the Queen before continuing.

"Her Majesty got me out of ... a bad place. Gave me somewhere to hide from my stalker. He's the reason I have these," she explains, gesturing to her eyes. "Anyway, in return I've sworn fealty to her. Some technology from my world was able to solve her most pressing problems, and now I just want to see peace brought to my adopted home."

The Queen delicately sets down her spoon. The soup bowl in front of her is completely empty, and the remaining rolls have vanished.

"But, of course, I am not asking you to help for free," she continues, picking up smoothly where Laura left off. "Firstly, we only want to study your water buffalo — and maybe lend us some, if they prove integral to the effect. You wouldn't need to fight directly, or even come to Mr. Fahrenheit's attention. Secondly, Laura is more than happy to share some of her advanced technology with you as well."

"Woof?" the Duke asks.

"An astute question," she agrees. "Did you perchance see the land outside as we made our way here? Well, that was all once green and pleasant land."

"What happened to it?" Prince Sharbono asks, despite himself.

The Queen smiles her wide, sharp smile.

"I happened to it," she says, her eyes daring her guests to say anything. "And then, when I had devoured it all, I turned my sights on Earth. They fought back, of course, but two world wars had weakened them. Still, they were holding their own, and even pushing me back until I found darling Laura."

She pats Laura's hand fondly. Laura's eyes iris closed for a moment.

"And she brought me the secret of how to end world hunger," the Queen continues. "Which rather removed my causes belli. But apparently now making peace would be 'too dangerous', so here we are." 

The Prince thinks to himself as the waiters bring out the main course — a delicate venison steak with a side of fluffy mashed potatos.

He balances the thought of helping the witch-queen against the thousands of people who starve when the harvest fails, and the millions who will starve in the future.

It's a truth he knows deep in his bones, the same way he knows his water buffalo is fast. Heroes are made when they make a choice.

He takes a deep breath.

He makes a choice.

When it's all over, he looks up at the Queen standing over him, her red dress glowing in the firelight.

"Why?" he croaks. "After we helped you? Why?"

"Oh, my dear," she purrs, voice low and sultry. "Haven't you heard?"

She bends to whisper in his ear. "I'm insatiable."