Chapter Thirteen
A Gift of Cake
The dining room buzzed with the chatter of men who’d had a long, but exciting day. The knights spoke of their training, enthusiastically recounting their sparring matches with the demon warriors.
“Nearly sliced me in two, he did!” Duke drank from his mug, slammed it on the table, and wiped at his mouth. “I look forward to another match tomorrow.”
“Quite different than our training as knights,” Baden said, helping himself to another wedge of bread. “We often hold back when sparring with each other or use dulled blades to avoid serious injury.”
“Would you rather I have my warriors use sticks instead of axes and swords, then?” Lord Onyx sat at the head of the table and sipped his wine.
“No.” A grin crossed Baden’s face. “I quite like the challenge. It’s thrilling.”
“Aye,” Quincy said with his mouth full of pork. “You demons fight dirty, and I like it.”
Briar frowned at him. “If only you liked table manners as well.”
I laughed and almost choked on my bite of green beans.
“It’s the bacon,” Fane mumbled from beside Onyx. He refilled his goblet and moved over to Varys, tossing me an I-told-you-so look. “Adding it was an unforgivable crime.”
“Uh huh.” I wiped at my mouth. “Says the one who ate a big plate of them before we served the food.”
“Telling lies is unbecoming of you.” Fane turned away, his black tail flicking once. I caught the smirk he tried to hide though. “I did nothing of the sort.”
Lord Onyx glanced between the two of us before focusing solely on me. The tenderness in his eyes caused a soft knocking in my chest.
I broke eye contact by reaching for my glass of lemon water.
No wine for me that night. Self-preservation, mainly.
As my attraction to the demon lord intensified, so did the nerves bubbling in my gut: ones that would make me drink like five glasses of wine and end up booty dancing on the table or throwing up in one of the fancy vases against the wall. Rambling too.
So many rambles.
“Phantasia told me of your time today in the clinic,” Varys said from the demon lord’s right side, addressing Briar. “She says you were of much help and even taught her several things she hadn’t known.”
Briar sat across from me and dabbed at his mouth with a napkin. “I specialize in green magic, using herbs and plants, along with mana, to create elixirs and salves. She found it fascinating. Much of it she was familiar with but hadn’t tried before.”
“More than likely due to the speed at which demons and demi-humans heal compared to humans,” he responded. “Our immune systems are different as well. What our bodies can handle, you may have trouble absorbing, such as certain toxins or levels of mana particles.”
My brain often left the conversation once science-y stuff started being discussed. As they further spoke of mana and medicines, I scooted my chair back and gave Oreo a bite-sized piece of pork from my plate. He gobbled up the meat before licking my fingers.
“I understand you wishing to feed the furball, but you need to eat as well.” Maddox peered down at me, having turned in his seat to watch me. “You are much too small.”
“Tell that to my ass.”
Quincy spewed his wine. All over Baden.
The big blond gave him an indignant stare as he dabbed his tunic with a napkin.
“Have mercy.” Quincy scooted his chair closer to Duke. The knight trio sat at the end of the table, with Quincy in the middle.
“Don’t come over here,” Duke told him. “I’m not savin’ ya.”
With Maddox’s attention briefly diverted from me, I fed more pork to Oreo.
Fane had told me that Fenrir preferred raw meat, so before dinner, I had cut up some steak for my good boy.
But cooked meat wouldn’t hurt him, and he seemed to like it enough.
And he deserved a treat or five. All the yummy things.
“Evan.” Maddox sighed my name.
“Okay, okay, I’m done,” I told him, then quickly fed Oreo another piece before scooting back up to the table. I shoved a bite into my mouth and stared at him as I chewed.
The muscle in his cheek jumped.
Callum sat on my other side and coughed into his closed fist, earning another sigh from our captain.
“Dinner is excellent,” Lord Onyx told me, adding another scoop of mashed potatoes to his plate. “Familiar ingredients, yet prepared in an unfamiliar way.”
“That’s good ole Southern cooking.” The sudden praise made me do an anxious wiggle in my chair. “I’m glad you like it.”
Koga entered the dining room with more wine and made his rounds, refilling goblets.
His mane of red-orange hair had been combed back from his face, and he’d dressed up that evening, his shirt pressed and free of wrinkles or imperfections.
It was difficult to imagine him as a commander in the demonic army.
The gentle, poised, and even-tempered male in front of me suited him much better.
“Would it be possible for me to help in the garden where these were grown?” Lake asked, examining a green bean. “These taste well enough, but I believe they were sad before being harvested.”
I smiled down at my plate. Lake believed everything had a soul, plants and crops included. Back home, he had a garden and would visit it every day, speaking to the flowers, fruits, and vegetables. He had sung to them, too, if he felt their spirits were low.
“You’re sensitive to the life energies of everything around you, yes?” Koga asked. “A good skill to possess for agriculture.”
“The happier the crops, the better they taste.” Lake’s tail wagged. “The prettier the flowers too. I noticed the ones in the main courtyard have drooping petals.”
“Perhaps you should visit them on the morrow,” Lord Onyx said. “A song in your native tongue would surely lift their spirits.”
Another tail wag. “It would be my pleasure.”
“You know our native tongue?” Varys asked Lake.
“Aye. My father taught me all he knew. Language and customs long since gone from the world.”
“Not gone,” Varys said. “Your father kept our history alive through you, just as my mother did through me.” He then said something I couldn’t decipher. The words sounded lyrical, the syllables flowing like soft wind chimes in a whispering breeze.
Lake’s silver wolf ears lifted in interest before he responded in that same beautiful cadence.
I blinked away the sudden stinging in my eyes. It was like the lullaby he sang when I couldn’t sleep.
“What happened to your people?” Fane asked as he tended to the hearth, adding another log to the fire.
“They were conquered,” Varys answered. “King Gregor of Haran invaded our land with an army of ten thousand strong and slaughtered countless demi-humans. All so he could possess a specific mineral in our soil. He then saw yet another resource. Our people. And he enslaved them.”
Lake expelled a breath. “My father spoke to me of this. We were free once. Had our own kingdom. Greed took that from us.”
“I’ve heard stories about it.” Callum helped himself to more mashed potatoes. “It’s what led to one of the first wars between Bremloc and Haran. Bremloc sailed over and tried to free the demi-humans from Haran control. Our army prevailed and many came back with them.”
“Think of what you speak, lad,” Varys told him. “And ask yourself why Bremloc truly intervened in that conflict.”
“The resources,” Briar said with a knowing look.
Oh, how my disappointment in the realm of men grew and grew. “So, the army swept in acting as saviors, when the real goal was to claim the territory? That makes Bremloc no different than Haran.”
Varys nodded. “One of the minerals is used to forge strong blades.” He looked at the knights. “Your blades. The metal is lightweight, yet incredibly durable.”
Callum paused in his chewing, while Maddox looked at Lake.
The injustice of it all weighed on my heart. Was everyone selfish and full of greed? Just like Thorin’s speech from The Hobbit: the world would be a better place if people valued home above gold.
“Seems the apple doesn’t fall too far from the tree,” I said, heart aching at the sadness in Lake’s eyes.
“King Silas is just as horrible. Sending mercenaries after me, not to mention all the capture attempts on Prince Sawyer with the intent to force King Eidolon to bow to his demands, which I’m assuming, was more resources or money or something else freaking dumb.
The whole kingdom of Haran needs a time-out. ”
“The quest for power makes monsters of many men,” Varys said. “Over the centuries, Haran has clashed with not only Bremloc and my homeland but other realms as well. Fighting over resources and territory.”
It further explained King Silas’ determination to capture me too. I was another tool in making him all-powerful.
“How old is King Silas anyway?” I asked, doing a rough mental calculation. “He wanted my dad to marry one of his daughters before I was born, so he’s old enough to be my grandpa. He should stop his pursuit of power or whatever and just enjoy life, you know? Take up golfing or something.”
“Golfing?” Callum asked.
“You hit a little white ball into a hole with a metal club. People find it relaxing.”
“Hitting a little ball into a hole,” he repeated, confusion growing. “Is relaxing?”
“Don’t think too hard on it, rabbit.” Rowan smirked over at him. “Your head might pop off.”
“I’ll pop your head off, snake.”
“That doesn’t make sense.”
“Much like your face,” Callum shot back.
Lord Onyx watched them with intrigue. Did he find them amusing too? Hard to tell given his forever irritating, but highly skilled, ability to mask his emotions. His ruby red eyes shifted back to me.
Warm flutters swarmed my rib cage and fanned lower to my belly, as though the tiny Evans running my body had taken up tap dancing and were doing a coffee-fueled jig. Hopefully one wouldn’t twist an ankle.
Fortunately, Nina and Cyan entered the room and cleared our plates, providing a nice distraction from that damn demon lord and his intense eye-fucking. Both female demons smiled at me and patted my head before leaving again.