Chapter 22 #2
“We do. A lot of them. My father believes in drafting them young—too young. Many are trained to fight before their horns are even grown.”
She falls quiet, but I don’t explain further. There’s only so much of my father’s sins I can package into a sentence, and I don’t plan on telling her that it will be one of the first rules I change when I officially become king. She thinks of me as a monster; no point trying to change her mind.
A scent hits the air, causing her to pause, her eyes fluttering.
“What is that smell?” She mumbles.
“That would be the bakery,” I say, nodding to the stone building, its crooked chimney puffing out smoke. “Run by Marta.”
Daisy’s stomach growls audibly, and she groans, crossing her arms over it with embarrassment.
“Come,” I say with a faint smirk. “I’ll get you one of my favourites.”
We enter the bakery, the door creaking with the sound of old iron hinges.
The scent of emberfruit, burnt sugar, and spiced flour wraps hits us immediately.
The heat from the ovens kisses my skin, wrapping around me like a familiar embrace.
Daisy’s breath catches beside me, her eyes wide as she takes it in: shelves lined with charred-black loaves dusted in powdered frost, twisted sweetbreads glazed in honey, and tiny cakes that glitter with what looks like stardust. Marta looks up from behind the counter.
She’s ancient—white braids twisted back from a stern face, her eyes sharp as obsidian blades behind her glasses.
She squints. “Well, well,” she mutters. “Didn’t think I’d ever see the day you brought company, Korithax.”
I grunt in response, rolling my eyes. “Don’t start.”
Her eyes scan Daisy from top to toe with such intensity that even I feel slightly nervous. “Who’s this?”
“She’s to be my bride,” I say flatly. “Your queen.”
Marta blinks. For half a second, she’s silent, and I brace for impact. Then she lets out a sound between a scoff and a gasp and flings herself around the counter with surprising speed. Before Daisy can even flinch, she’s wrapped tightly in the kind of hug that could crush ribs.
“Blessed skies,” Marta breathes into her shoulder. “You poor, poor girl.”
Daisy snickers, the corner of her mouth tilting up. “I know.”
Marta pulls back just enough to cup Daisy’s face between her rough, flour-dusted hands, examining her like a jeweller examining a rare stone. Her expression softens—not something I often see from her between her scoldings.
“She’s never hugged me like that,” I mutter under my breath.
“Because you’re not lovable, boy,” Marta snaps without missing a beat, flapping her dishtowel at me. She turns her back to us as she returns to the counter to grab a tart. “You’ve got all the warmth of a frozen corpse.”
She hands a tart to Daisy—golden crust, glistening with crystallised sugar and filled with ember fruit.
She accepts it with both hands, eyes wide with awe.
I watch her as she takes a cautious bite, curious to see what she’ll think of the treat.
Her eyes practically roll back into her head.
“Oh my gods,” she moans. “This is insane.”
Marta beams like the freaking angels just came down from the sky to greet her. “She can stay.”
“Uh, where’s mine?” I grumble, crossing my arms.
Marta tsks and tosses me one with a roll of her eyes. “Always so needy. Go on, eat that before your sulking curdles my icing.”
I roll my eyes and lean against the counter, biting into my tart as the two of them chat.
It’s surreal, the way Daisy talks to Marta like they’ve known each other for years.
The way Marta already looks at her like she’s something precious.
The warmth between them is something incredible to behold and I find myself watching the sunshine girl in my world, and not wanting to look away.
Eventually, we leave Marta’s, weaving back through the winding stone paths through the village.
The smoky-sweet scent of the bakery still lingers faintly on our clothes.
She’s gone quiet again, her arms folded as her eyes scan the unfamiliar realm as if she’s trying to memorise every detail.
We’re nearing the same fields we arrived in when she suddenly gasps and stumbles back with a sharp intake of breath.
“What?” I snap, hand already going for one of my blades as I instinctively step in front of her.
She points, her face a shade paler than it was a second ago. “What the hell is that?”
I follow her gaze, preparing for an ambush.
Instead, my eyes land on a flamebeast descending from the cloudless blue sky, its wings stretched wide.
The crops in the field ripple from the impact of its landing as its wings fold with a slow, deliberate grace.
Its crimson scales shimmer under the light of the sun—iridescent like a thousand shimmering embers.
The beast is twice the size of a mortal steed, with a long, serpentine tail swaying side to side and horns that curl back, sharper than blades.
Its eyes glow molten gold, narrowed in a suspicious gaze.
It moves slowly towards us, and I tense, watching every movement, ready to strike if it so much as bares its teeth.
Daisy grabs my arm, her fingers trembling slightly. “Is it safe?”
“They’re not usually interested in people,” I mutter, more to myself than to her.
It pauses in front of her, tilting its head with a curious noise that rumbles deep in its chest. Daisy freezes, her hand twitching as if she’s unsure whether to reach out or run.
My eyes flicker between the beast and my future queen as the creature snorts softly—an exhale of steam curling in the air—-and lowers its massive head until it’s level with her chest.
“I—What do I do?” She whispers.
“Don’t move,” I say lowly. Though, I’m not actually sure what she should do. I have never seen such an event occur.
Despite telling her not to move, she hesitantly raises a hand, her palm trembling as she presses it lightly against the flamebeast’s snout.
It closes its eyes and presses its head further into her palm, almost like a pet nuzzling into her.
After a few seconds, it pulls away, lowering its head to her as if in a bow.
It gives one last chuff of breath, then turns and strides away back into the fields.
My mouth opens slightly, then closes again. “What the fuck?” I breathe.
Daisy turns to look at me, her brows drawn together in panic and disbelief. “What?”
“They never approach anyone,” I say slowly, my voice laced in shock. “In twenty thousand years, Daisy, I’ve never seen one act like this. They bow to no one. Not even me. The only time they approach their handlers is when they’re being fed or if they are injured.”
She gives a nervous little laugh, but her expression is pure wonder as she flips the hand over that the beast nuzzled. “So I really am the princess of Hell. Whispering to the freaking dragons.”
“It’s not funny,” I mutter.
Because it isn’t. I’m not sure what unnerves me more—what I just witnessed, or how calm she seems. This realm just continues to welcome her, and there she is, glowing brighter with each passing moment, fitting into a world she was never meant for.
We arrive back at the castle, Daisy vanishing into her rooms as I head toward mine. Today was good, nice even. We had both been civil as I’d shown her around the village, and she saw a fragment of my life… of what was to be her life.
As if summoned by my sense of peace, the pull of another damn summons grips my spine. I roll my eyes, exhaling with pure irritation. “Here we fucking go.”
I rip through the realms, arriving in my least favourite place in the universe; the chamber of the Divine Six.
As per usual, they’re already seated, but instead of slight irritation marring their faces, they all look absolutely furious.
The tension in the air is so thick that it even has me faltering for a moment before I regain my composure and stride forward with arrogance radiating from me.
“You have defied us.” Seraphiel hisses, her crystal wings flaring behind her.
“Correction,” I growl. “You said I needed a bride, and now I have one.”
“You cannot marry a mortal!” Calrix bellows, the ground trembling with the force of it, making me stumble forward slightly.
“Funny, I don’t remember you specifying that little detail.” I sneer. “You said bride. You got a bride.”
“It does not matter,” Elaron says, his voice sickly sweet despite the venom dripping from his words. “If you marry a mortal, we will burn your kingdom to the ground, as we have promised.”
I stare at him, the fury in my eyes not going unnoticed as his gaze falters.
Amarithe tilts her head, golden eyes gleaming. “Do not defy us again, Korithax.”
Velentha watches me silently, her time runes flaring, her face unreadable beneath her hood. Mal’Thariel’s presence looms heavier than ever, the air around him feeling cold, icy even.
I bare my teeth in a snarl, smoke curling off of me with my rising anger. “Try it,” I say, voice deathly low. “See what happens.”
I turn on my heel and vanish without warning, the clash of our power still rattling the realms behind me.
I storm through the door of my chambers, slamming it behind me, the barrier I had placed not long ago preventing me from teleporting directly into my rooms to ensure absolute protection.
I didn’t need any assholes appearing from thin air into my personal space.
I look up, seeing Aran standing by my fireplace, arms neatly folded behind his back.
“Clearly, I need another barrier placed on my room to stop you entering whenever you fucking please,” I growl.
He ignores my remark. “So,” he says, arching a brow. “She agreed to the proposal.”
“Yes,” I grunt, dragging a hand through my hair. “Under the condition she gets to live in Hell.”
His deep emerald eyes widen, tension rippling through him. “But, sire… the Divine Six. They made it abundantly clear that she was not welcome here.”
“It was her condition,” I snap through gritted teeth.
“I wasn’t about to say no and risk having to marry one of the other three fucking wretched souls.
Besides, they’re more angry about the fact that I’m marrying a mortal.
Apparently, they forgot to mention in their little fucking rule book that my bride had to be immortal. ”
Aran stares at me before carefully asking, “What will you do?”
I smirk, cold and humourless. “Fuck them. I did exactly as they asked. They said I needed a bride, and I have one. If they didn’t deign to specify the fine print, that’s on them. They threatened to burn my kingdom down if I married a mortal,” I scoff, “but they would not dare.”
The words barely leave my mouth before a deafening boom shakes the entire castle. The walls shudder, dust falling from the high ceilings as the fire in the hearth sputters out. I freeze, Aran’s head whipping to the door.
“What the fuck was that?” I yell.
A frantic pounding echoes from the hallway, and I yank the door open to see one of my soldiers, armour dented and covered in ash, running in the hallway.
“My king!” He shouts, panting. “The southern side of the castle, the guest wing, has been destroyed!”
I teleport without hesitation, Aran arriving right behind me as he steps through his own portal.
The ruins stretch out before me, smoke curling into the air like the fingers of a dead god coming to claim the destruction.
The south wing, where Daisy had once stayed, is now reduced to blackened stone and ash.
Fire crackles weakly, licking at the bones of what was once polished marble and obsidian.
Only celestial fire can burn through such stone easily.
In the centre of the rubble, something glints.
I stride through the destruction, ignoring the heat and the wreckage as I bend down, picking up the scrap of golden parchment, seemingly unaffected by the blaze. The words are scrawled in divine ink:
This is a warning, Korithax.
You cannot marry a mortal.
Find another.
Or next time, your entire kingdom will be desecrated.
Do not take our threats as a bluff.
Aran appears at my side, his face pale as he reads over my shoulder.
“Sire?” He croaks.
“It was the Divine Six,” I snarl, crumpling the note in my fist until it disintegrates into black ash under my burning touch. “Sending a message about Daisy.”
He stares at the ruins, horror etched into every line of his face. “What will you do?”
I stare into the smoke, rage rising inside of me like a storm I can’t contain. My fists clench so tightly I feel my nails pierce through my skin. “I have no fucking idea.”