Nnngh! Don't give in! Don't give her the satisfaction! Euphie is a condescending jerk who just dropped all her friends down a pit while she was distracted and Mittens is [i]not[/i] about to let her rub it in her face like this. She's not! She's a strong, independent princess with a plan to, t-ttttoooooooo...

Mittens purrs. Darn it! This isn't her fault, ok? She's half a cat right now, and Eupheria is [i]really[/i] good at pats! This isn't fair. Her cheeks burn with shame, but that happy kitty sound won't stop rumbling in her throat even as she steps onto the train with every ounce of dignity she can muster. 

It's dark inside the dining car. Dark and damp. Dark and damp and warm. Dark and damp and warm and, eugh! Squishy. It's like... you know what it's like? It's like walking inside of a big mouth. Mittens' tail bushes up and stands on end as she takes one quivering step after another. Her eyes dart about in the dark, looking for teeth. Squish squish, squish squish. That'll be her companions. Squish, squish, SPLORT! 

"Eeeeek!"

Mittens jumps ten feet into the air, shrieking, her foot covered in blood, or, or pus or or or... the lights flick on, and Mittens lands back in the burst remnants of a simple water balloon. It's a shockingly normal train car, after all. Very plush, even! Velvet walls and swirling feather tapestry carpets and the most charming painted glass table Mittens has ever seen sitting in the middle. Each of its legs is another type of fish leaping up out of a stream of water, and on top is a sumptuous spread of cakes, cookies, and other fineries that would be more than home at one of Mommy's super fancy, super boring Queen Tea Parties, though mixed in there are pastries and party favors from... all over Hyperborea, really. You could tell a lot about Eupheria just looking at this table. 

But you also didn't need to. You could tell almost as much from the bursting ripples of laughter spurting out of her mouth as she points at Mittens, doubling over and filling the entire car with her thunderous squeaks and, if Mittens' sharp triangles did not deceive her, the haughty trills of one (1) Azora Howl. Mittens glares reproachfully, but soon she's giggling too because the looks she's getting remind her so much of Freesia and Jessamine that every prank she's ever had pulled on her comes rushing back up to the top of her memories and there's a second where she can even remember her name starts with an A. That's! That's important! Don't forget that, A... Mittens. Rivers.

There's only one person here not laughing, and you can guess who it is. Mittens' delight curdles when she sees the look on old Adila's face. Get back to work, princess. This is what you fought for, now don't waste it. A spark of green light flares back to life in her emerald eyes, and Mittens swings her attentions back to Eupheria as she sits down at the table. 

Properly, of course. Mittens is careful to curtsy and ask permission before seating herself, and doesn't take a single offered treat until the hostess has handed something out to everybody else. She thanks Eupheria politely and keeps her hands daintily folded in her lap when she doesn't need them for a fork or a cup. She observes every nicety, because... yes, there it is. Eupheria's only really got eyes for her right now. And after that fiasco with the floofy dress, she knows exactly why. Brrr, is it getting cold in here now?

"So!" Mittens chirps brightly, with only the tiniest hint of a wobble, "I've, erm..."

Yes? Come on Mittens, you can do this. For Momma, and for everyone else.

"Oh! Yes. I've heard that before you, that is, what I mean to say is when you were a Princess-Promised, I was told you put on a lot of puppet shows. You kept that up after, um, taking your crown, right? Talents beg to be used, after all."