Chapter Five
When I next opened my eyes, I found the room had darkened.
Both my lantern and my candle must have burned out overnight.
In their absence, shadows reigned. As I sat up, I realized it wasn’t quite pitch black.
There were two faint light sources that I could have sworn weren’t there before.
The first came from the curtains. Zaleos had told me Hell was underground, but for a moment, I wondered if he’d been wrong.
When I pulled them back, my misplaced hopes fell.
All was still dark outside—all except for Lantyca.
Up close, the lanterns and braziers lighting the city faded into its background.
At this distance, thousands of flickering flames reminded me of stars, absent from the sky above, now smoldering like embers on the ground.
I drank in the sight for a full minute before I pulled myself away from the window, letting the city’s radiance shine through its dusty panes.
The other light source interested me more. A yellow glow seeped under the door frame, coming from the hallway I’d walked in the dark last night. I didn’t dare open that door—not without knowing who might be on the other side.
The lights from the demon city proved bright enough for me to stumble my way to the dresser.
When I pulled it open, I found it was well-stocked with clothes.
Rummaging through them, I unfolded shirts and leggings.
Their cloth felt soft and heavy on my fingers.
The shirts particularly intrigued me. Their fronts and sleeves bore strange frills, while their buttons had a porous, slightly rough texture.
I didn’t want to think about what they were made of.
There were undergarments in the dresser, too, whose fabric matched the silken clothes Zaleos gave me.
In the bottom drawer, I found several bottles of clear liquid and stacks of folded washcloths.
When I saw them, my nose wrinkled. They implied baths would be a rarity in the afterlife.
The idea made me groan. I didn’t care to scrub myself down with a damp washcloth first thing in the morning.
Instead, I closed the drawer and changed into a fresh set of clothes.
It was probably for the best that I forwent a bath.
As I moved about my room, exhaustion settled over me, weighing on me like a blanket I was too weak to remove.
I’d slept long enough to drive out the aches and tenderness in my body, but not to refresh my mind.
I eyed the bed. A few more hours’ rest could do me good.
Before I decided one way or the other, a knock at the door drew my attention. A voice followed.
“Breakfast time! Come and get some before it goes cold!”
The voice belonged to a man, but it was far too pleasant to be Sitri’s, and it lacked his dark, husky tone. This man sounded carefree and lighthearted, like he spoke with a smile on his lips.
He sounded… human.
I unlocked the door and poked my head out into the hallway, blinking, taking it in. For the first time since my demise, I could finally see clearly, thanks to the row of ornate lanterns hanging on wall-mounted hooks. And what I saw, striding away down the hallway, was a knight in shining armor.
He was shorter than Sitri, but with a heavy-set, muscular physique the demon Prince lacked.
His armor was made of leather inlaid with metal plates that gleamed in the firelight, whose scuffs and dents told the stories of countless battles.
He wore no helmet. Instead, his dirty-blond hair glittered like gold under the lanterns.
I let out a sigh of relief. Then, I shut the door to my room and started after him.
“Hey, wait up!” I called down the hallway as I struggled to catch up with the knight.
He slowed his pace and glanced at me over his shoulder. His joyful crimson eyes met mine, warmth radiating from his fanged smile. He must have been another demon, but similar to Zaleos, he didn’t act like a demon. He was far too charming, not devious enough to match the likes of Sitri or Vapula.
“Well, well, lucky me. I get to meet Sitri’s pet project this morning, eh? And to whom do I owe the honor?”
“Call me Lillia.” I fell into step beside him, unwilling to offer any more than that.
“Lillia? That’s a curious name. No flashy titles or catchy nicknames?”
“Just Lillia,” I reiterated.
I looked away, trying to hide my smile as I did so.
I wasn’t sure if the demon had seen it. With any luck, he hadn’t.
Until I knew what kind of kingdom I’d found sanctuary in, I wanted to keep these demons at arm’s length.
This one didn’t seem to share that sentiment; a thought both dangerous and enticing.
“Well then, ‘just Lillia,’ you can call me ‘just Apollo.’ It’s a pleasure to make your acquaintance.” He gave an exaggerated bow. “You’re up just in time. Sitri sent for you, and he doesn’t like to be kept waiting.”
“So he’s told me. Then again, he doesn’t seem to like much of anything.”
Apollo loosed a deep, hearty laugh. “You don’t know how right you are. Just don’t let him catch you saying that, or you’ll never hear the end of it.”
Despite myself, I laughed in turn.
I hadn’t realized how hungry I was until the first scents of food graced me.
It smelled like the continental breakfasts I once enjoyed in restaurants and hotel lobbies; rich and fatty, sweet and spicy, fried in pig fat and butter.
The journey I’d undertaken yesterday left my body weary.
My mouth was painfully dry, and my stomach ached.
I would have eaten almost anything that could soothe the pain.
When I rounded the corner into the dining room, I drew a sharp breath.
It was small, but just as finely furnished as the other rooms of the mansion.
A grand table sat in its center, carved with imagery of demons and women that I didn’t care to study further.
Two rows of padded chairs clustered around it.
On top of the table was a banquet fit for a king; roasted meats, fried hash, jellied concoctions, and strange breads halfway between rolls and pancakes.
At the far end of the table sat Sitri, and to his right was the demoness from the night before.
Mara, the Prince had called her. She had her hands folded neatly in her lap.
Apollo claimed the chair across from her.
As I studied the table, I noticed only one other place setting at the table’s tail, opposite Sitri. My smile died on my lips.
As I took my assigned seat, Sitri’s eyes burned into me. I didn’t bother to look, but if I had, I was sure he would have greeted me with the same predatory smirk he’d worn when we first met.
“Good morning, Lillia. I trust you slept well?” The Prince’s words dripped with feigned interest.
“I slept fine, thank you.”
Rather than dignify Sitri with my attention, I reached for the glass of water next to my plate.
I lifted it to my lips, only to gag on the vile, bitter liquid inside.
It felt slimy in my mouth. I forced myself to swallow, then set the glass back on the table.
Sitri interlocked his hands, his elbows on the table, his undivided focus still honed on me.
“Drinking oils, darling. Water is a rarity in Hell, haven’t you heard?”
I shot him a glare. “Can’t say I have.”
As if acting on some invisible cue, the demons served themselves.
Sitri moved first and piled his plate high with meat and bread.
Mara took a more modest helping of jellies and vegetables, while Apollo sampled every dish on the table.
I opted for a serving of sautéed mushrooms and what looked like some sort of omelet.
I eyed that omelet with apprehension and cut it with my fork.
When I brought it to my mouth, my resistance waned.
Light, velvety eggs melted on my tongue, revealing the spiced meats that laced them.
The otherworldly herbs that flavored the omelet gave it a warm, slightly earthy taste.
Under any other circumstances, I would have taken my time and enjoyed it.
That proved difficult when the Prince watched my every move.
“Why so quiet? You’re a guest here, loosen up,” Sitri mumbled through a mouthful of meat. “Tell me about yourself. What kind of life did you lead?”
I brought my fork to rest on my plate. I had done everything in my power to avoid thinking about the life I had left behind. The life I so carelessly threw away.
“A short life,” I answered, “and an uneventful one. I lived until I was twenty-one. Then I died. There isn’t much more to it than that.”
A flood of emotions must have washed over my face, while Sitri’s stayed as still as stone. His words brought back memories I didn’t want to dwell on. Memories of my parents’ demands. The sacrifices I’d made to appease them. The lives I’d ruined escaping them.
“Not to be curt with you, darling, but you don’t seem like the type to wind up down here. Most of us are detestable, ill-mannered characters. You don’t fit the bill.”
My head shot up, my eyes locked with Sitri’s as he snapped me from my thoughts. There was something on his face that I had a hard time placing. An inquisitive gaze, and tight muscles, halfway between curiosity and suspicion.
“You want to know what I did to wind up in Hell,” I said. It wasn’t a question.
“I do. And by the way you’re talking, I have a feeling you know what did it, too.”
Clasped hands. Broken promises. Kept secrets.
The drinks, the drugs, the sex I used to fill the bottomless hole in my heart and keep Vapula’s presence at bay.
Things I wouldn’t dare admit had damned me to this place.
My breathing hitched as I failed to stuff my emotions down.
Pain, regret, and the familiar burn of rage built like pressure in my chest.