Chapter 8
The Castle of a Demon
Elizabeth stood in front of Queen Rowena wearing a ruffled gown that was laughably out of style. The queen’s eyes widened as she took in Elizabeth’s appearance, her lip curling in disdain.
Elizabeth’s face burned with embarrassment, but before she could speak, she glanced down and her heart sank. A thick iron chain shackled her ankle to a hulking demon—not an attractive man, but an ugly hunched thing with horns and claws.
Elizabeth pleaded, trying to explain herself, but the queen only scoffed, and turned to leave. Members of the court started leaving as well, as if unable to stay in her presence for a moment longer.
“Wait!” Elizabeth cried. “Come back!”
She turned to the demon and to her horror, the demon began to swell to five times its original size and its mouth opened wide, revealing rows of sharp teeth.
Shadows bled out of the demon, filling the room with darkness.
Then the demon inhaled, sucking tables, chairs, and even guests into its gaping maw.
“Stop it! You’re hurting them!” Elizabeth cried, but the demon did not hear—or did not care, and continued to devour everything in sight.
Her blood screamed at her to protect the people of the court who were now zooming down the demon’s throat, but there was nothing she could do. Helplessness threatened to overwhelm her as her feet started sliding on the floor.
With a surge of desperation, she flung out her arms and—to her surprise—sunlight burst forth, spilling from her body. The light flared, growing brighter.
The demon snarled, as if in pain, but her relief was short-lived. The demon countered by releasing a burst of darkness, and she stumbled and fell.
The demon inhaled again, and she was pulled closer. She summoned every scrap of strength she had, and flung out her arms, light spilling forth once more, but it was too late. Darkness consumed everything. Her light flickered, and went out.
Elizabeth jolted awake, breathing heavily, her nightgown clinging to her skin.
Her heart hammered in her chest as she took in the chamber with high arching windows and sweeping curtains, reminders that she was in Caspian’s castle. The sky was still dark outside—she must have woken up in the middle of the night.
The dream had felt so real that she blinked, still trying to convince herself that it had only been a dream. Her body trembled with the phantom sensation of light bursting forth from her outstretched arms.
She shuddered. Magic.
A burden she was only too happy to not have to bear.
The executioner’s platform flitted in her mind, and she wiped the sweat off her forehead. It was just a dream. She had nothing to fear.
Elizabeth laid her head back against the pillow and tried to go back to sleep, but sleep wouldn’t come.
After tossing and turning, she changed into a cotton dress suitable for daytime wear and a matching corset. She grabbed an unlit candle from her bedside table, and tucked a book under her arm. Trudging across her room, she quietly opened the door, and closed it with a snick.
She lit her candle from a torch nestled in a bracket in the hall. Most of the torches were extinguished now, with only a few offering light to see by in the night.
If she had any sense at all she wouldn’t be wandering around a demon’s castle in the middle of the night, but she was awake now, and didn’t want to stay in bed any longer. Plus, she reasoned, she was supposed to be living here now.
She hadn’t wandered too far when Fiza frantically ran up to her, her feet nearly skidding on the flagstones in her haste.
“My Lady, I’m sorry, I didn't mean to lie in bed while you were up!” Fiza said, dropping into a curtsey, and nearly losing her balance in her enthusiasm. “My apologies, Lady. It won’t happen again.”
“Fiza,” Elizabeth said, raising a hand in a gentle ‘slow down’ motion. “I woke up early. It’s okay. While I appreciate your enthusiasm, I’m perfectly able to get ready for the morning on my own.” She smiled at the older girl in what she hoped was a reassuring way.
Fiza still looked distressed. “Please don’t tell the Master,” she said desperately. “I can stay in your chamber tonight. I’ll bring a small cot so I can wake up whenever you do.”
Elizabeth offered her a smile with a tilt of her chin.
“I won’t tell anyone, but there’s really nothing to tell.
You don’t need to be in my chamber all the time.
Please, keep whatever sleeping arrangements you have.
” Fiza’s shoulders sagged in relief. Elizabeth found herself wondering what kind of master Caspian was if he had instilled this level of fear in his household for such a minor thing.
She wouldn’t have even noticed Fiza’s absence.
Leaving Fiza to her own devices, Elizabeth wandered about the castle, wanting to explore it before the others were up.
She came across a hallway lined with windows. The sky was just beginning to lighten outside, with soft pink drifting across the horizon. As she continued her exploration of the castle, she felt a creeping sense of foreboding, like she was doing something she wasn’t supposed to.
Beginning her exploration of the second floor, Elizabeth happened across Asmodeus lounging on a sofa, his enormous bat-like wings dominating the space.
“Hey, Sugar, looking for me?” Asmodeus drawled. Elizabeth’s eyes widened in surprise at his casual pet name for her. “I was just about to toddle off to bed.”
“Hello, Asmodeus,” she said with a curtsey. “I wasn’t looking for you, I was just looking around for a place to read.” She hefted her book by way of explanation. “And isn’t it morning already?”
“It is morning, and what an astute observation that was, my flower, but this is a house of demons, and we are creatures of the night by blood.” He paused dramatically and touched his fingers to his chin. “As for a place to read … My lap makes for a pretty nice seat, I hear.”
She stared at him incredulously, disapproval and disdain colouring her features. They locked eyes for a moment, then he suddenly burst out laughing.
Asmodeus closed the distance between them in two long strides, suddenly feeling far too close.
Elizabeth tipped her head back, meeting his gaze.
His eyes were deep pools of inky black. Where there should’ve been white, not a speck existed.
They were absolutely terrifying to behold, but she stood her ground.
A glint caught the corner of her eye. She hadn’t noticed it the other day, but he had a gold earring.
“Come to tempt me with your mortal blood?” Asmodeus said suggestively. He wiggled his broad shoulders, making his wings flare out behind him, looking smug as a cat.
“That’s not very nice,” she ground out. “Cornering someone much smaller and weaker than you.” She glared at the big demon.
“I’m not very nice. I’m also good-looking and great in bed,” he said grinning.
She crossed her arms over her chest. “Any man who has to brag about being good in bed usually isn’t.”
He chortled and stepped back, giving her a few more inches of breathing room.
“So, the kitten has claws,” Asmodeus said, his eyes gleaming with wicked amusement.
“You were as quiet as a mouse at dinner. I thought our boy would chew you up and spit you out. Finnigan bet me a gold noble you wouldn’t last a week before begging to leave or sneaking off in the middle of the night. ”
She held her hand up, trying to make sense of the situation. “You’re taking bets on if I’ll run away and propositioning me?”
“Yeah,” Asmodeus replied, looking unbothered.
“I’m a little unsure of the hierarchy here, so please confirm for me. Am I, or am I not, under Caspian’s protection while I’m here?”
“You are.” Asmodeus lowered his chin and flashed his teeth in a cheeky smile. “Doesn’t mean a demon can’t flirt, though.”
She took a deep breath and counted to five. “Then, I politely ask you to leave me alone,” she said with what she hoped was a firm voice. “I don’t need your flirtations.”
He hummed, looking unfazed and undeterred. Asmodeus leaned in closer, the candlelight reflecting off his onyx stare capturing her attention. Its light swayed and flickered across his pupils. He said, “But you looked oh so serious at dinner; I couldn’t resist tea—"
“Why do your eyes look like that, and Caspian’s do not?” Elizabeth cut him off, curiosity getting the better of her.
The easy grin dropped off his face.
“I was … cursed,” Asmodeus said, his words clipped.
Straightening, he turned on his heel and strode out of the room, his wings flaring out behind him as he walked.
Though curious about his answer and abrupt departure, she descended to the main level of the castle in search of breakfast. If this castle was designed like her manor, the kitchen should be connected to where they had dinner.
Heading off in the direction she believed the dining hall was, she came across the demon butler.
The squat creature looked up at her in greeting, and she was surprised to see that the little demon’s eyes were like Asmodeus’s. Did the colour of a demon’s eyes signify something important? She was beginning to feel like she had been plunged into a world that she knew nothing about.
Elizabeth’s stomach grumbled loudly, and she flushed in embarrassment. “Excuse me, is there somewhere I might find breakfast? Or make something for myself?” The words left her mouth before she considered the fact that she did not know how to cook, but surely, she could figure it out.
The little demon giggled. “No,” he said, quickly sobering. “The Master doesn’t take breakfast in the morning. Most of the household is still abed at this hour, including the servants.”
We are creatures of the night by blood.
Elizabeth frowned, recalling Asmodeus’ words.
“We have kitchens,” the butler continued. He gestured down the hallway with a clawed paw. “Just return to the dining room around breakfast or lunch time, and you will be fed. I’ll inform the other servants when you typically like to rise and eat.”