Chapter Nine #2
“I do like a port,” admitted Archie. The array of drinks were only half-familiar to him, with some of the bottles in a script he didn’t recognize.
From the demon realms, he realized with a thrill.
That was it, that must be why everything in the room seemed so unfamiliar – there were heavy demonic influences in everything.
He hadn’t even known that the demon realms had wine or art.
Stupid, really – whole clans of demons lived there, of course they must have their own comforts.
The prince handed him a glass of rich, almost black, liquid, the edges of their hands almost brushing before the prince moved his fingers out of the way so they wouldn’t touch.
“I don’t think your passenger would appreciate it,” said Ixthan with a knowing smile. It was the first time he had acknowledged it so openly, and Archie was caught. There was no manners guide, no social-etiquette-approved answer for him to fall back on. He stayed mute.
“I see the quick tongue is all his. He’s not going to rescue you this time,” said Ixthan. “Well then, while I have the chance, I should express my admiration. It has been a while since I’ve seen a possessed. Outside of the mages so supervised by my father and the university, that is.”
“You’re not going to report me to the king?” asked Archie in barely a whisper. Damaris had already given his opinion, but he wanted to make sure regardless.
“You attach yourself to a succubus. His powers are hardly going to topple the throne,” said Ixthan with a snort.
Archie flushed, again. He hadn’t known that Ixthan – or was it any demon?
– could tell what kind of demon possessed him.
He felt exposed, as if he were the one dressed only in a shirt and not the prince.
“Then what – begging your pardon, Your Highness. What is it you want with me? I don’t understand why I’m here.
” Archie glanced back at the party and was caught.
Earl Damian had rearranged himself, languidly throwing his legs over one arm of his couch so that he was directly watching Archie and Prince Ixthan, not even hiding it.
When his eyes met Archie’s, he raised his glass.
Archie looked away, struggling to focus back on the prince.
“I don’t care if some human gets themselves possessed, but it does interest me to know what demons are entering this realm,” said Ixthan, smiling broadly enough that Archie could see that the tips of his teeth came ever so slightly to a point.
“Besides, this wing that my brother and I share is the only part of the palace where demon magic goes entirely unnoticed. I would be a good friend to have on your side, I should think.”
It wasn’t a threat – yet. Archie bowed his head. “I understand, Your Highness.”
Ixthan waved it away. “Do away with the formalities. We’re cousins, after all. My friends call me Ix.”
The name stuck in Archie’s throat. It was going to take some getting used to.
But thankfully that was all the prince had need of him for now.
He relinquished the glass, and tipped his head towards the gathering.
“If I occupy your time for too long, a certain someone will get the wrong idea, I’m sure. ”
All the seats were taken; Archie meant to simply slide himself into a space on the carpet, when Damian swung his legs down, silently leaving it open for Archie.
It would look strange if Archie rejected it and went for the floor now.
He sat. It was a couch meant for one person to recline, a tight fit for two grown men.
His leg pressed against Damian’s from hip to knee, a press that left his stomach oddly tight.
The group conversation was currently about hunting, Damian engaged and showing no indication of Archie’s inner turmoil.
Damaris, where are you? thought Archie desperately, only realizing afterwards that he was speaking to the demon almost as if he were praying to a god.
What did he expect a succubus to be able to help with in this situation anyway?
This was a purely human social struggle that Archie had, his shyness and inability to make friends.
All his friends were people he had known for years, thrown together in studies or because their parents were friends, people with whom he’d spent so much time with it would be odder for them to not consider him their friends.
Here. The whisper was faint. Archie almost missed it as one of the women laughed. And, confusingly, it hadn’t come from the back of Archie’s mind.
Damaris?
Still here. Slightly louder this time, with the faint thread of amusement. And still, coming not from within Archie. Almost as if Damaris was outside, calling in through a window. As if… as if…
Archie stared in horror at the Earl of Lymond.
A thousand questions swirled in his mind.
The single sip he’d taken of the port – rich, sweet – threatened to regurgitate.
He’d made a deal with a demon and it hadn’t even lasted a week.
And here in his place was this man, an Earl no less, who Archie hadn’t even heard of, who – who – who flickered.
For just one moment, so brief Archie thought he imagined it, he could see the fire in the fireplace straight through Earl Damian Lymond.
As if Damian was really a swoop of shadows made solid.