Chapter Twenty-Four
I’ve never experienced this kind of calm.
It’s the kind of calm that coaxes my entire body to feel languid and at ease, as if all the problems in the world simply don’t exist. It has to be the lingering effects of securing a contract.
Demons desperately searching for their next contract suddenly makes sense—this kind of feeling is worth chasing.
Even if it damns souls in the process.
I expected to wake regretting everything.
Instead, I regret nothing.
And it’s a delicious thing.
Nested on a windowsill in the hall near my bedroom door, I sip my morning tea, staring at the gardens below.
I’d slept soundly, and of course, I dreamt of Ryc once again—this time knowing who he is.
He’s no longer the shrouded fae following me around Ollora, instead he’s the Sovereign King of Erus standing on a rooftop in the Twilight Mire with golden eyes that shine brighter than the stars.
A light rain falls against the glass, gentle taps against the pane that create a chorus of sound echoed in other windows lining the hall. It creates a soothing sound that sinks into my skin, into my muscles.
Curling my fingers around my mug, I hug my raised knee closer to my chest, resting my cheek against it as I continue to watch through the window. I hadn’t bothered to get dressed for the day, at least not yet anyway.
Daring to venture into the hall in my camisole, I had wrapped a blanket around my shoulders, wanting to enjoy the time of silence in the temple. Like clockwork, the temple becomes a haven for thoughts twice a day—the hour before sunrise and the hour after sunset—when prayer takes place.
These two hours have become some of the only times where I’m left in peace with myself. Much of the other time, I’m with Cora and Eve as we complete our tasks. A completely different experience from the solitude of the hells.
I’m left with much less solitude, and I find I still need—still want—moments like this, where I can process. And during these times, the entire temple falls quiet. No one in the halls, the library, the garden… They’re either praying in the sanctum or asleep.
If temple life were like this more often, I might enjoy it more. It hasn’t been an awful experience—not by any definition of the word—but there are many here, many I don’t know, many I haven’t bothered to get to know.
Yet they all know me.
They watch and wait to see what Celesta’s daughter will do. And it’s as if Eve and Cora are the only ones to look at me, talk to me, share space with me and treat me as me. They don’t keep a strained distance or place me on some strange pedestal because I’m Celesta’s daughter.
It’s all too reminiscent of how I was treated by demons in the hells. Feared because I was nothing more than Netharis’ daughter.
The light of the sun is less intense today, darkened by the clouds claiming the sky, still seeking to bring light to the world. It’s returning color to the realm, chasing away the darkness and shadow night had brought. An hour of gray before the vibrant reality of the world is revealed.
Cora had left me a few new teas to try from our shopping excursion in the South Ward, and I’d blindly chosen one for this morning. Raising my mug to my face, I breathe in its fragrant, relaxing steam, my eyes closing as the herbal scent washes over me.
Saffron, I realize.
I pause, staring at the mug, at the golden yellow liquid. The scent reminds me of him, as does the color. Would Nektos influence something as small as this? Surely not.
Right?
Would the goddess of Fate have thoughts on what I’ve done? On what Ryc has done?
Regardless, the truth of the matter is Ryc serves me.
Me, a demon who has rich little experience in negotiating contracts now has a Sovereign King bound to her. He’d signed the contract without question, without barter, without argument. Without reading. A blind trust borne of stupidity.
Or lust.
Perhaps both.
Had it been any other demon to offer him a contract, it would have been riddled with damning terms and conditions. His soul would no longer be his own.
I don’t want his soul.
The contract I’d offered was drafted in earnest.
I didn’t include any terms or conditions beyond his protection against Netharis, Kassil, the hells, Celesta, and the other Sovereign Kings. And listing out the terms, even if only to myself, it’s a fair amount to take on.
He should have read the damn thing.
I shake my head and sip my tea.
The way he stared at me as he pressed his thumb to the parchment—I’ll never forget it. I don’t want to forget it.
I don’t want him to look at anyone else like that.
The brutal honesty of the thought takes me by surprise, and I purse my lips. Shoving it into the darkened corners of my being, I sigh. It doesn’t matter what I feel, or what I want with him. None of it will matter if I’m dragged back to the hells.
This is all a strange mortal infatuation. It will fade. I simply need to endure for now.
The voices of Cora and Eve float down the hall and I lift my head.
They’re walking hand in hand, laughing and chatting with one another as they approach. It’s such a simple thing, and it brings a smile to my face. Such casual and open affection would never be seen in the hells. Let me live in their happiness for only a moment.
Cora’s eyes meet mine and her face lights up with a grin.
Eve, following her partner’s gaze, sees me and offers a warm smile.
“I’m surprised to see you awake this early, Ves,” Cora says in bright tones. “Did you not sleep well?”
“I actually slept really well,” I laugh and sip my tea.
It’s begun to go cold.
I must have lost myself in thought for longer than I realized.
“Ves’ favorite time of day in the temple is prayer,” Eve muses with a sly grin. “It’s the only time the temple is quiet.”
“No need to expose all my secrets, Eve,” I mutter and she begins to laugh.
Glancing past them, the hall begins to fill with others returning to their rooms following morning prayer. Shifting, I pull my hair over my shoulder as I lower my legs from the windowsill.
Eve’s head tilts in curiosity.
“What are your plans for today?” I ask, a question directed at them both.
“I’m on kitchen rotation this week, so that’s where you’ll find me,” Cora laughs, making a face that tells me she’s not excited about the assignment.
“Artemise’s latest orders are to ensure you don’t draw the attention of the royal family any further,” Eve replies in teasing tones. “Which means, whatever you’re doing, I’m doing. And ideally that means not leaving the temple.”
She levels a flat glare in my direction.
Guilt heats my cheeks and causes my lips to purse as I stand from my makeshift seat in the window. Pulling the blanket up over my shoulders, I move across the hall toward my bedroom door.
“Luckily for you, I don’t have much on my agenda today,” I half tease in return, pushing my door open.
“I’ll find you later,” Cora says quietly to Eve. “I have to get started on breakfast with the others.”
Eve pulls Cora into her embrace, kissing her tenderly on her brow. Wanting to give them a moment of privacy, I close the door behind me, leaving it slightly ajar for Eve.
I approach the standing mirror in the corner of the room.
Looking over my reflection, I see no evidence of the demon mark on the front of my body. But turning, I pause—throwing the blanket onto the bed, I set my mug of tea on the floor at my feet. Drawing in a deep breath, I pull my hair aside.
A tight frown tugs at my lips.
Starting at the base of my skull and following my spine, a string of black Malbolge runes lie inked on my skin. They slip beneath my camisole.
How large is this mark?
With trembling fingers, the camisole slips from my shoulders, the silk gathering at my hips as my eyes widen.
It’s the largest demon mark I’ve ever seen.
Spanning between my hairline and tailbone, the runes outline the terms of the contract.
I’ve seen delicate bands around wrists, ankles, the throat, over the heart, down arms… never this.
The size of the demon mark makes little difference in what I’ve done. At least it’s not terribly visible like others—easy to hide under my robes, as long as I leave my hair down.
In a swift motion, I redress, and retrieve my mug of tea from the floor. Crossing the room, grabbing the blanket, I return it to my shoulders before settling onto the side of the bed. Staring at the weak, flickering flames in the fireplace, I worry at my lower lip.
Ryc’s marking would be identical.
The reality of my choices crashes upon me like storm-stirred waves on a shoreline. The Sovereign King of Erus has signed a demonic binding contract with me.
What in the hells have I done?
The door swings open, and Eve’s eyes immediately find me.
She shuts the door behind her, making sure it shuts quietly. In a few steps she seats herself beside me, studying me with a quiet scrutiny.
“You offered a gods damned contract to the Sovereign King? And he signed it?” she asks in a fierce whisper, leaning forward with eyes bulging. “Are you fucking insane, Ves?”
Her ice blue eyes are already on mine as I lift my wide-eyed gaze.
I open my mouth to speak, to argue, to lie, but she says, “I saw your mark in the hall.”
Clamping my jaw shut, I inhale sharply through my nose.
The quaint sounds of the fire fill the space between us for a time.
“Why?” she asks, genuine concern in her voice. “Did he threaten you? Force you?”
“No, no,” I answer slowly. “He asked, and I wanted to.”
Her eyes widen with sheer surprise.
“I need him,” I say, softer. The truth of the words baring parts of me I’ve yet to acknowledge. “He’ll help me with Kassil, with Netharis.”
Nodding, Eve turns her stare to the fire. “And what did you offer him in return?”
To remain beside him for as long as I stand within this realm.
“It doesn’t matter,” I say, not letting my thoughts linger on the foolishness of my promise—on the runes I inked into that contract. “He signed, no contest.”