Sable charges toward us with fury etched across her face, clearly having witnessed my slap from a distance as she strolled to retrieve her cherished mate. Her steps are heavy with purpose, arms swinging, and her voice cuts through the air like a blade.

“How dare you slap Jareth?” she yells, rushing to his side as if she’s his self-appointed protector.

Her hand rests gently on his arm, fingers brushing against his shoulder in what she likely thinks is a ...