10. Oziel
Oziel
Eating dinner alone is no different from any other night, but there’s a heaviness in my chest that gives me pause. Feelings and emotions, other than lust and hatred, don’t come naturally to demons. Not to say we don’t feel other things; it simply is a rarity for our kind.
And Isabelle has me feeling.
What, I'm not entirely sure. She’s a strange human. Full of anger and reeking of sin. It’s potent and consuming, intoxicating for a demon. I’ve heard stories of the allure of humans, but experiencing it is another thing entirely. A sip of forbidden wine. Isabelle Sinclair is exactly that.
The remnants of my food have gone cold, and I push it aside. My appetite has soured, and I find myself no longer wanting to occupy an empty table. I leave, shadows engulfing the dining room when I walk out.
As I make my way down the hall, I pass the demon who escorted Isabelle away. “She’s in her room. Shall I stand guard?”
“No.” Giving her free range of the castle will be interesting.
I doubt she’ll listen to my prisoner comment from earlier.
Isabelle is the furthest thing from a prisoner here.
And besides, I have eyes and ears everywhere.
There isn’t a place she could go I wouldn’t know.
This castle is an extension of me. I will always be able to find her. Best let her think she has free will.
The demon nods and continues on her way. I pass by Isabelle’s door, hearing her move around inside. My room is next door, connected to hers—a small fact I kept to myself, knowing Isabelle wouldn’t appreciate the proximity. It’s much easier to keep an eye on the human if she’s close to me.
My room is untouched when I walk in. No other demon is allowed in here without my permission. That privilege is given to few. It’s my only sanctuary within the palace, and even that has become tainted since the arrival of the Nephilim and the curse the creatures bring with them.
The room is massive, with a vaulted ceiling that disappears into shadow, giving an impression of endless height and the dark night sky.
Gothic arches and carved stone columns frame the room, and wall sconces are placed strategically to provide a soft glow.
I don’t like bright lights. Both the bed and furniture are carved from blackened wood and adorned with sharp, angular designs.
And sitting atop a small desk in a glass dome is a bouquet of crimson roses.
At first glance, nothing appears amiss. The roses are vibrant, seemingly glowing within.
Each petal is smooth and slightly curled at the end.
The stems all have sharp thorns ready to draw blood.
To an unsuspecting person, this is simply a beautiful arrangement.
No one would even pick up on the sinister nature of it.
My story to Isabelle earlier about demons needing possession of their victims to dole out the most pain is true. Objects belonging to people hold memories. The more significant, the stronger the memories are.
Roses are the only significant items to me.
The Nephilim’s message was aimed toward me. A cruel reminder of my failures and the failures yet to come. Each time a demon succumbs to the curse, the roses lose a petal. I fear the day only stems remain. What becomes of my kingdom then?
My mind is occupied with thoughts of my kingdom's impending doom when there is a knock at my door. My shadows see Garvan outside, standing tall with his hands folded in front of him like the perfect lap dog he is. I have half a mind to turn him away because I’m not in the mood for company.
But Garvan doesn’t stop by for social visits.
“Come in,” I call and take a seat upon my cushioned chair. The only seat, other than the bed, in the room.
Garvan enters. His eyes sweep the room, then linger on the glowing roses before meeting my gaze. He gives a formal bow, hair flopping down around his ears. “Word has been sent out to the dragon, wolf, and kraken kings. We await an audience, though I don’t believe we will get all the kings here.”
“No matter. We only need one and his wife.”
“Yes, speaking of wives”—Garvan pointedly looks at the wall separating my room from Isabelle’s—“shouldn’t you be spending time getting to know yours?”
“Ah, dear Garvan, have you not heard the expression ‘absence makes the heart grow fonder’?”
Garvan frowns, clearly not impressed with my sayings. Pity. I like them enough for the both of us.
“I’m not sure that applies when the other person hardly knows you.” Garvan steps closer, though he keeps a good distance between him and the glass dome of roses. “She’s here to fix that.”
“So, you change your tune now?” I raise a brow.
When I first brought up the idea of taking a human wife, Garvan was vehemently against it.
He said it would make me look like an inept king.
Demons were already questioning my role as king because of the curse, and this would cause coups.
Fear is a disease and, once caught, breeds insubordination.
But then the reality of our situation came to light.
A human mate is needed to win this war. The three kings who found their mates before me are proof of that.
I’m a proud demon, but not so proud to deny outside help if it means life or death.
Even Garvan could no longer deny I should take a human mate.
He was pivotal in helping me speak with Ender.
“This is our only chance.” Garvan’s cheeks flush at the reminder of his opposition. “You must get the girl to help us.”
“Very astute advice,” I mock, rolling my eyes. Does he think I’m so dense, I don’t know the whole reason she is here? “And how do you propose I do that? What demon should I ask to help me with romancing the human?”
“It’s not impossible. Your parents—”
“Are dead,” I growl. “They have no relevance in this.”
Garvan nods, carefully choosing his next words. “I simply mean it’s not impossible to learn to love another.”
In fact, it is very unlikely and extremely rare for love matches.
Demons aren’t—or rather, shouldn’t—be capable of love.
Obsession and infatuation, definitely. But love?
If fear is a disease, then love is a plague.
At least fear brings action. Love only results in death.
No, I think I’d rather not fall in love with an emotional human.
However, I can’t simply ignore her. Isabelle’s presence demands attention, and that much I can do.
We don’t have to love each other, but we could be a team.
A strong one if we play our cards correctly.
The power a human has in Mescos, according to all ancient texts I’ve ever come across, is unlimited. As long as they are able to unlock it.
For a demon, Garvan has a bleeding heart. It has always pissed me off, but perhaps today it will be to my benefit. “What do you suggest I do?”
Garvan gets a look on his face that immediately has me regretting my words. Despite there being no available seats, Garvan happily perches himself atop the bedside table, scooting the book sitting on top to my bed. “My lord, I hope you have all night. I have many suggestions.”
I will listen to my courtier. Let him speak.
And then I will do the opposite of his suggestions.
With a satisfied smile, I sink back into my chair and settle in for the rest of the night to listen to Garven drone on and on about the process of courting.