When a human falls into the Cat Kingdom, they begin to turn into a cat. If they do not leave by the following human dawn, then they will never be able to leave the Cat Kingdom ever again. True cats could go between their own kingdom and the human world where their presence was recognised as normal. Those who had once been human however, due to being basically feline but with so many human traits as fingers and toes, a habit of wearing clothes, a tendency to walk upright, and in some cases, hair as well as their fur… Suffice to say, it was not so easy for ex-humans to pass themselves off as standard felines.

In the Cat Kingdom, the ex-humans were generally regarded as second class citizens, the majority, if not the entirety of their population making up the slave trade in the Cat Kingdom. In all of Cat Kingdom history, the only exception has been recently, when one such ex-human was awarded a barony for saving the life of Her Majesty the Queen and her royal son the Crown Prince.

It had been sheer coincidence that, when the young prince had asked the new baron about a point of politics one day shortly after the appointment, and had been given such an extremely good answer, that the King heard, and had been impressed. His Majesty was so impressed, in fact, that he gave the ex-human and once second-rate citizen of his kingdom a monthly wage to be one of his advisers.

It wasn't long before the lowly baron had become a key political figure in the court, and with his monthly crown purse, he improved his estate. Though once human and against the very idea of slavery on principal, the feline baron could be found going to the slave market the last day of every month, and purchasing all the ex-human slaves he could afford. When questioned why he purchased only those who had, like himself, come from the human world, he would shrug and say something about having a better empathy for them.

A count of the court had pointed out, rather basely, that one did not require empathy to make slaves work, but a whip. The baron had returned that, in less than a year, his small bit of land was producing more than the count's great estate had in triple that time, and he put it down entirely to his relationship with those who worked under him.

"The fact of the matter is, Count Louche, that humans are more motivated to work hard if they find enjoyment and accomplishment in their work. I don't know about feline work ethics, but I do know about people. That is why my land is only worked by my own kind, and that is why it is doing so well."

The count had sneered and ignored the baron. For him, that was easily done, still believing his kind to be unworthy of the time they were given. If it were not for the political power the baron had somehow managed to obtain, Count Louche would never have entered into conversation with him in the first place.

It did nothing for his reputation, and rather a lot for the new baron's, that what had been said was completely correct, and that the ginger, ex-human noble cat was indeed, after such a short time, wealthier than his more established, full-cat court superior.

Of course, when he had said 'a year', he had meant a year in the Cat Kingdom, where time passed differently. With each new slave he purchased, the baron learned more about the progression of his home world. He had been in the Cat Kingdom only two years, but already twenty had passed for the human world. The baron blamed it on the kingdom's deceptive eternal noon.

"Baron, I would like a word with you please," Prince Lune, the king's brother, requested politely as the baron was on his way to the carriage that would return him to his estate after a conference with His Majesty.

"Certainly, your Highness," he replied with a polite bow, following him into his private study.

"Please, have a seat."

"May I compliment you on your uniform, Highness?"

"To do so would be to compliment my tailor, rather than myself, so you may, but that is not what I wanted to speak with you about. Baron, you have a sharp eye and an even sharper mind. You cannot have missed the marks on my nephew and my sister-in-law, as well as my brother's slow degeneration this past month."

The baron smiled a crooked half-smile that one only wore when they really knew too much for their own good, but had decided to laugh anyway.

"This is not a safe conversation for you to be having, Highness, and if something is unsafe for you, then it is certainly suicidal for myself," the ginger gentleman pointed out calmly. "I may be in a sound economical situation due to my own shrewdness, but my political power comes entirely –"

"From my brother's favour towards your advice," Lune finished, hanging his head. Looking up with the royal family's piecing dual-toned gaze, the prince's words held a lament. "It won't last my friend. As his mental state deteriorates, he will forget that you are his best adviser and will turn to those he has known the longest."

"Count Louche," the baron realised.

"Count Louche will be among them," Lune confirmed. "And he is strongly against the recognition of ex-human citizens, as you well know."

Baron von Gikkingken rubbed gloved hands together; his green gaze fixed on them with a melancholy as a sigh escaped his furred lips.

"Some things cannot be helped," he said at last.

"He is beating them Baron. He is becoming so mentally unstable that he is beating my beloved sister-in-law and my nephew. I cannot bear to watch this continue." There it was – the real truth of the matter. Lune, while for the fair treatment of all inhabitants of the Cat Kingdom, cared about Queen Yuki and the young Prince Quin more than he did anybody else, himself included.

"I can't help, Lune," the baron said. "I am sorry, but I just cannot help you."

Lune nodded.

"I know Humbert, forgive me. I just wanted to ask, if I found a way that something could be done, would you help me?"

"There is nothing that can be done, I would help, but there is no way of being able to do it. Forgive me, Highness, I must return to my estate," Baron Humbert von Gikkingken, only ex-human of His Majesty's court, rose from his chair and, with a last bow to his monarch's brother, left.