Chapter 23
Daisy
The chambers are absolutely breathtaking.
The bed alone is a masterpiece. A massive four-poster bed, carved from some dark, burnished wood with a canopy draped over it in crimson silk with an engraved headboard.
The mattress is plush and larger than any I think I have ever seen, buried beneath velvet and satin darker than the night itself.
It already feels homely as I settle down after the tour of Zeriavoss Korithax had given me.
It was such a strange and wonderful day; the valley and the village were beautiful.
And the way that creature had just approached me like we’d known each other our entire lives was surreal.
A flamebeast. Such a thing existed. And it existed in the realm I now called my home.
The walls in the room are lined with towering windows that display the endless expanse of the realm in the distance, the flashes of red lightning skittering across the cloudless sky.
Heavy embroidered drapes hang on either side of each window, patterned with sigils and symbols that feel familiar, but ones I don’t recognise.
Every inch of the room exudes dark, powerful, impossible beauty.
I sit on the edge of the bed, taking it all in as disbelief washes over me in slow, crashing waves.
I live in Hell now. I’m going to be the queen of this beautiful kingdom, and there’s no going back.
I don’t know a single thing about being a queen.
I was studying to be a psychologist, not a freaking ruler of an ancient kingdom.
Panic begins to wash over me at the realisation of what I’ve signed up for. I take slow, deep breaths, reminding myself that being a queen in an ancient realm can’t be any harder than being regular old Daisy back on Earth. Right?
I think of Talia and Ezra, and my chest tightens.
I’ve abandoned them, again. Left them behind in a world I deemed insufferable enough to give up, to reign beside a demon who can’t stand me.
The tightening in my chest eases slightly when I begin to think of the freedom I’ve enabled myself.
I don’t have to go back to my old life, back to the pain, the stares, the whispers.
I don’t have to carry on trying to pay off my father’s debt, or have to continue struggling to survive.
Here, I can breathe. Here, I am something more than a victim.
I can’t stop the laughter that bubbles up out of me.
A freaking queen. Of Hell. Daisy Sandoval is about to become Mrs…
Mrs what? Mrs Korithax? Did he have a last name?
Crap. Not only am I marrying the future King of Hell, I don’t know a damn thing about him, other than the fact that he’s a grumpy asshole who thinks I’m a pathetic, weak mortal.
I let out a long sigh. Still better than my life back on Earth, I guess.
Guards arrived at my door around half an hour ago, under Korithax’s orders.
Apparently, there was an attack on the southern side of the castle, with the worst of the damage aimed at the guest chamber I used to stay in.
A chill crawls up my spine, my thoughts spiralling with an uneasy feeling that it wasn’t just coincidental that those chambers were the ones most brutalised.
What if it was the Divine Six, believing I was in there once again, trying to kill me?
I jump down from the impossibly large bed and begin panic pacing up and down whilst nervously chewing my thumbnail.
What if it was meant to kill me? What if they’ve figured out where I am?
No. Korithax wouldn’t let anything happen to me.
I’m his ticket to the throne, after all.
A knock on the door pulls me out of my panic, and it opens gently to reveal a small woman with a warm smile standing there. “Come in,” I say softly, forcing a polite smile as I gesture toward the room.
“Your Majesty,” she says with a tiny curtsy, her voice lilting and sweet.
Oh wow. I’d have to get used to that, and fast, apparently.
She’s delicate and pale, almost translucent, with flowing lavender hair cascading down her back and small white horns curling back from her temples.
Her wide, pale violet eyes meet my ocean-blue ones, offering me probably one of the kindest looks I’ve received in this realm, besides Marta.
A strange ache flutters in my ribs at the thought of her.
Marta had been one of the only people in this whole twisted realm who made me feel like I wasn’t something to sneer at.
She’d hugged me like I was her family, scolding Korithax like I was hers to protect.
Her embrace had smelled like spiced flour and smoked wood; and her presence had felt like a warm kitchen on a winter day. Something truly good, calming.
This woman’s smile doesn’t have the same fierce spark Marta had—but the softness in her eyes carries a similar kindness.
“I’m Lyvia. I’ll be your maid.”
“Lyvia,” I echo, trying not to gawk. She’s so ethereal, like a ghost spun from mist. “Wait… maid? Like, actual maid? Am I that fancy now?”
“Yes, your Majesty—”
“Okay, hard pass on that,” I cut her off with a small wave of my hand. “Call me Daisy. ‘Majesty’ makes me sound like I should be wearing a powdered wig and yelling at people.”
She blinks, then smiles, her too white teeth catching in the candlelight. “Daisy.”
“Much better.” I smile back.
“Your dresses will arrive in the morning,” she says, gliding across the room with a grace that makes me instantly self-conscious about my tendency to trip over air. “But for now, I have brought you a nightgown.” She hands the beautiful piece to me, its fabric caressing my fingers.
“It’s woven from the silk of the Lumispires,” she explains, “a sacred creature from Luminaria, the realm of light magic.”
“Of course it is,” I murmur, running my fingers over the impossibly soft material.
“I’ve been here five minutes, and even my pyjamas have lore.
” It’s softer than anything I have ever felt, shimmering faintly even in the dim light of the room.
Lyvia laughs gently, the sound like wind chimes in a breeze. “Thank you, Lyvia,” I say softly.
She tilts her head in a bow. “Is there anything else I can get you, your Ma… Daisy?”
The way she fumbles the correction makes me giggle. “Nope, I think I’m good for now, thank you, Lyvia.”
She smiles again and curtsies, disappearing just as quietly as she appeared.
The healers arrived not long after Lyvia left, only a thin, silvery scar trailing down where the blade had kissed my skin in desperation.
I marvel at the work. Healing magic was incredible.
Apparently, the healer who fixed my arm was also in the room the day I was brought in after my overdose.
I couldn’t stop the blush that crept over my face from the embarrassment when she told me, and I think she noticed.
Because in the next breath, she told me she was glad that I was okay, and was proud to serve the new Queen of Hell.
I couldn’t quite tell if she was being sincere or not, but the healing work she did on my arm was good enough for me to not really care, regardless.
My eyes catch on the beautiful black-wood desk by one of the windows, and I stroll over, perching down on the red velvet stool.
Dipping a quill into the ink pot, I pull two pieces of parchment towards myself and begin writing letters to both Talia and Ezra, explaining as much as I can without putting them at any risk.
I promise them I’ll find a way to see them soon and finish the letter telling them both how much I love them.
I hand them to the guards at my door, asking that they ensure they’re delivered as soon as possible, only to be met with a nod and a grunt as a response.
Guess they’ve not warmed up to me just yet.
Later that night, I slip into the nightgown, the silk clinging delicately to my skin, which outlines my curves and the softness of my belly.
I curl under the heavy covers, feeling lost in such a large bed, and stare up at the canopy.
Exhaustion pulls at me almost instantly, making my eyes heavy and my body melt into the soft mattress beneath.
When sleep lulls me in, it isn’t the usual fitful dreams of ash or Ethan that consume me.
Velentha is there, standing among drifting veils of mist, her hood concealing most of her face.
She slowly lifts her head, the hood slipping back to reveal raven-black hair and silver eyes that seem to forever be filled with glowing rivers of water.
Her face remains cold as her eyes meet mine, her words making the hairs on my arms rise.
“Become immortal,” she whispers, her voice threading through the mist, sounding like it’s everywhere around me. “Rise again. Go to Maelkar.”
She takes a step forward, grabbing onto my shoulders with an icy grip before shoving me down to the endless abyss behind me. I hear her voice calling after me as I fall endlessly, “Tell Korithax. Tell him now.”
I jolt awake with a gasp, heart hammering in my chest. I scan the room, ensuring I’m safe and not falling to my doom in a never-ending nightmare, then shove back the covers and bolt to the large, heavy door of my room.
I pull it open, startling the guards on duty, and demand they take me to Korithax instantly.
My bare feet slap against the cold flooring of the castle hall as I follow the guards to Korithax’s rooms, the panic not easing for a single second as I pass door after door, praying the next one I reach is his.
The guard outside of Korithax’s chambers hesitates, looking at me with confusion and something else glinting in his eyes that I can’t quite decipher.
“Let me in, now! I am to be your Queen.” I didn’t expect to have to pull the Queen card any time soon, but when desperation calls, I guess.