Chapter 25
Daisy
Korithax looks every inch the demon king.
He stands tall and menacing in a tailored black jacket that fits his broad shoulders perfectly, the collar lined in crimson velvet.
His obsidian horns curve back from his head like a crown of living stone, his black silken hair falling in loose waves over his shoulders.
His dark trousers tuck into boots that are polished to a subtle shine.
His presence feels almost too large for the room, power thrumming from him like a living thing.
He stares at the slightly shaking hand I’ve slid the ring onto. It’s absolutely breathtaking, the oversized ruby in the centre glinting in the sun that shines in from the large windows of my room.
“Come,” he says, holding out his arm.
I step into his embrace without a moment of hesitation.
His hands tighten around my waist, and a heartbeat later, with no further warning, the world lurches.
The dizzying pull of teleportation grips me, making my stomach churn.
The delicious breakfast of pyreloaf and emberfruit preserve almost comes straight back up out of me as everything whips and whirls around.
Lyvia had brought it to me this morning with a beaming smile.
The pyreloaf was a thickly sliced bread with a blackened crust, with small ashberries baked in.
Lyvia said that they were small berries that grew near Hell’s lava.
It had a thick, sticky substance on top called emberfruit preserve, which was a rich honey colour and made from crushed emberfruit that gets cooked down into a sticky jam.
It was sweet and delicious with a slight spice aftertaste, mixing beautifully with the sweet taste of the loaf.
I practically groaned when I took a bite.
Lyvia had described each part of the breakfast in incredible detail as I devoured it.
Now, however, I was deeply regretting it.
When the ground steadies beneath my feet, I blink into a dream.
We stand on a small stone landing platform, suspended in the middle of an endless sky.
Floating islands drift lazily around us, interconnected by shimmering rainbow bridges that glitter and seem to ripple like water.
Soft mist clings to everything, turning the air cool and making the skin on my arms pebble with goosebumps.
Floating just above our heads, close enough to touch, clouds of silver and white dance across the endless blue sky.
Waterfalls spill off the edges of the islands, their tinkling sounds filling the air like a symphony of bells.
Flowers bloom in impossibly bright colours along the edges of the bridges, looking like peonies—but much more delicate and breathtaking.
“Welcome to Fjellheim Heights,” Korithax says, his voice laced with amusement.
I gape openly, turning in a slow circle to take it all in. If Heaven were real, this is truly how I imagined it would appear.
“This realm,” he continues, “is the realm of rain and mist. It’s here that your world’s rain and mists are born. Virena, otherwise known as the Mother of Mists, rules here.”
I listen, utterly breathless as we begin the walk across one of the rainbow bridges. Korithax points toward a distant shimmering palace that appears to be carved from glass and mist itself.
“Virena is an ancient being,” Korithax says. “When she cries, it floods down in the lower realms. When she sings, clouds bloom, fluffy and white. Children born during a lightning storm here are considered to be her chosen ones.” He glances at me. “Tread carefully around her.”
As we walk through the dreamy realm, mythical creatures move all around us.
Enormous stags that look like they’re made of cloud, bound between the floating islands, leaving trails of mist behind them as they gallop along.
Serpentine water creatures swim beneath the rainbow bridges like fish, their scales iridescent, catching the sun like beautiful opals.
The people of this realm have skin that’s comparable to liquid silver, shimmering under the light like they’ve been doused in the world’s brightest highlighter, their eyes glowing faintly in a variety of pale colours.
Their clothing flows around them like pieces of clouds themselves, looking like one gust of wind will disintegrate the intricate clothing instantly.
“Hell trades with Fjhellheim Heights,” Korithax adds.
“We provide weapons imbued with flame. It’s not as strong as Hell’s weaponry, but strong enough to defend this realm against outside threats.
In return, we receive rare mists and elemental waters for rituals, magic, and help with the growth of our crops. ”
I nod absentmindedly, trying to memorise every sound, every smell. The earthy, musky scent smells like a spring shower. Is this what it felt like to take psychedelics? Because I genuinely felt like I was tripping right now.
We near the citadel, a grand palace of transparent towers and flowing waterfalls.
Guards stand at the entrance—tall beings with translucent skin, armoured in pale silver plates etched with what Korithax has told me are water runes.
Their weapons are long, elegant spears that end in a sharp point that looks like a glimmering diamond.
One steps forward. “His Majesty Korithax,” he says with a formal bow. “Her Grace, Virena, awaits you.”
We follow the guard through the vast hallways of intricate carved glass that shimmers in the light until we reach an enormous chamber where Virena sits upon her throne.
It’s a large seat that looks like it’s been carved from diamond and opal, and drifting clouds surround the base of the beautiful chair.
“Ah, Korithax,” Virena says, her voice like a sigh of wind. “It has been a while.”
“Virena.” Korithax nods stiffly, hands clasped at his front.
Virena’s eyes shift to me, one storm-grey, the other opal-white, surrounded by pale blue lashes. “And who is this beautiful woman beside you?”
Blushing furiously, I drop into a curtsy. “My name is Daisy, Your Highness.”
“My soon-to-be queen,” Korithax adds, his voice a low rumble that seems so out of place in a palace with such serenity.
Virena smiles, the sight of it making me uncomfortable. It looks almost predatory as she says, “Ah, Daisy. Please. One queen does not bow to another.”
I rise, cheeks burning at the mistake I’d made.
“What can I do for you, Korithax?” She asks, her piercing eyes landing back on him.
“We’re just passing through on our journey,” he says, voice guarded. “As you know, realm jumping depletes magic the farther one travels. I don’t require long to replenish with your realm being as close as it is, but we would be grateful for a night’s hospitality.”
Virena eyes him with suspicion. “And where might you be travelling to?”
“That is of no concern to you, Virena. I simply ask for your hospitality.”
Tension thickens between them, the clouds darkening at her feet and shifting more erratically to match the scowl on her face. I watch carefully, silently praying that she doesn’t mean any harm to either of us. Finally, after what feels like an eternity, she smiles again, slow and sly.
“Daisy, sweet child. Come here.”
I feel Korithax stiffen beside me at her summons. I glance at him, and he offers me a small nod of approval, despite his jaw being tense. I step forward toward the throne, and Virena’s eyes widen as she takes my hand. Her touch is warm despite her gaze turning icy.
“A mortal,” she breathes. Her eyes snap to Korithax, "You bring a mortal as your bride?”
“Yes,” Korithax growls.
Virena leans forward, her silver-blue hair floating on a phantom breeze. “Sweet child, has he captured you against your will? Speak truthfully. I can save you from this beastly man.”
“Rude,” Korithax mutters.
“Shush, demon,” she snarls.
Remembering Korithax’s words of being a unified front, I smile warmly, trying to put on the most queenly voice possible. “No, Your Highness. I’m to marry him of my own free will. I love him dearly, and I’m extremely excited to become his wife. No mortal man could ever compare to my Kori.”
Virena stares at me for a long, unsettling moment, trying to read the truth in my eyes. Her unwavering gaze has my palms starting to sweat like I’m under interrogation.
Finally, she nods. “Very well. You may stay until morning, Korithax, as thanks for your continued trade with Fjellheim Heights. I shall have your room prepared by one of my servants and ensure you are comfortable.”
“Room, as in, singular?” Korithax asks, narrowing his eyes.
“Well, yes. As a soon-to-be married couple, I do not see why you would need separate rooms. I know you have not had problems in the past sharing your chambers, Korithax.”
I quickly step in, ignoring her last comment despite the sting in my chest. “That’s very kind of you. Thank you, Virena.”
With a flick of her hand, we’re dismissed and escorted back outside the citadel into the royal gardens.
The second we’re out of earshot, Korithax grabs me by the waist, yanking me close.
To any poor soul watching, we probably just look like a passionate couple in a lovers’ quarrel.
In reality, his grip’s just shy of bruising.
“Why did you just agree to one room?” He hisses against my ear.
I bat my lashes innocently. “You said we had to look like a real couple. And shocker—real couples tend to sleep in the same bed.” I gasp as his grip tigthens. “She was suspicious. I did what I had to.”
He studies me for a long moment before nodding and loosening his grip. “You did well. She’s not easy to deal with.”
I beam, borderline smug. “Aw, look at that. My first interdimensional diplomacy session and I didn’t get turned into stone. Gold star for me.”
He raises a brow, ignoring my sarcasm entirely. “Kori?”
I shrug, feigning nonchalance. “Sorry. I figured ‘Korithax, Prince of Screaming Death and Suffering’ might sound a little too formal. Just trying to make us seem more couple-y y’know?”
A smirk curves his mouth, which is annoyingly attractive. “I like it.”
“Of course you do,” I mutter, rolling my eyes.
We spend the rest of the afternoon wandering the floating islands.
I marvel at the creatures that inhabit the realm, so alike Earth's animals, yet made entirely out of something new. Delicate air sprites zoom by, one landing with a soft giggle on one of Korithax’s horns.
He swats it away with a scowl, making the sprite laugh even more before three of them float towards me.
They weave in and out of my hair, whispering quietly when they whizz past my ears.
A plump sprite floats over, landing on my shoulder to whisper into my ear. “She who was lost is not lost at all.”
The sprites suddenly shimmer and vanish with laughter, my brow furrowing.
“What’s wrong?” Korithax asks.
“That sprite just whispered something odd into my ear,” I respond in confusion.
“Ignore them. Sprites are known for being a little… crazy.”
We continue to walk hand in hand—for show, I remind myself— as the sky shifts to the soft colours of dusk, the realm quietening enough that the sound of tinkling water fills my ears.
I close my eyes, inhaling slowly and letting the sounds and smells truly ground me.
This place is magical. I can’t believe something like this exists, and people back at home have absolutely no idea. I had no idea, before today.
When we return to the citadel, we’re escorted to a sprawling suite of glass and rippling silk canopies. A large floating bed sits in the middle of the room that looks as soft as a cloud.
Dinner is brought to us, strange and wondrous foods filling the table. Silver-fleshed fruits that taste like honeyed rain, sparkling wines that smell like fresh blooms, and meats seasoned with something spicy that make my tongue feel like it’s been zapped with electricity.
After eating and drinking, filling the meal with small, awkward conversation, Korithax stands, muscles flexing under his black shirt.
“I’m going to go shower, make yourself comfortable.” He says, vanishing through a door at the other side of the room.
I walk over to one of the large glass windows, looking out at the realm in front of me.
It truly was a sight to be seen. Ezra would love it here; Talia, however, would think it’s pretentious and would make some form of back-handed compliment about Virena.
I smile despite the lingering ache in my chest. I wonder if they’ve got my letters yet.
I hope they weren’t angry at me. I hope they understood why I left, and that they were happy for me that I had an escape from my messed-up reality.
Korithax returns sometime later, a towel slung low across his hips, droplets of water clinging to his skin. I stare, wide-eyed, unable to look away at his immaculate body. The way his muscles move as he walks, my eyes snagging on the deep V that disappears beneath the towel. Holy demon.
“Go shower,” he says gruffly. “We have a long day tomorrow. There’s a pack in the bathroom that’s enchanted. Call out what you need.”
I nod, darting into the bathroom, feeling my cheeks blazing from seeing him in just a towel.
He looked utterly divine, his wet hair hanging by his ridiculously large shoulders.
The way the water droplets trickled their way down the grooves of his abs.
God’s, even his horns looked sexy wet. Clearly, I needed a cold shower.
The bathroom is a fantasy in itself. Floors of smooth sapphire stone that glisten under the natural light of the room, with a huge waterfall shower that takes up most of the space.
I strip down and step under the warm water, sighing as it hits my skin.
The soaps smell like summer rain, and the shampoo makes my hair feel like silk between my fingers.
When I’m finished, I wrap myself in possibly the softest towel I’ve ever felt, and approach the pack that’s been left on the vanity. He said to call out what I need, like that made any freaking sense.
“Uhhh, nightgown?” I whisper, crinkling my nose. I feel like an absolute fool.
My eyes widen as the bag glows faintly. Hesitantly I reach inside, and my hand lands on something soft. I pull it out, revealing a bundle of delicate white silk. It’s a short, lace trimmed gown with matching lace panties.
My face flames, holding out the thin piece of fabric in front of me. “Lyvia, I’m going to strangle you when I see you,” I mutter under my breath.