The Demon King awoke to a world on the fringes of chaos. His limbs were sore from his decades of slumber in his Black Palace. Fighting back a yawn, he beckoned forth the mage who summoned him.
“Why have you called me?” He inquired, voice thick with disuse.
The mage dropped to his knees, head bent low to the ground. “She’s causing problems again.”
The torches in the audience room flickered. “How like her to intervene with the lives of these mortals.”He leaned forward in his throne. “Who is it this time?”
“Lady Giuliana Crane looks to be her target.”
“Is it because of…?”
“I do not know.”
“It likely is. She’s nothing if not predictable.” The Demon King stretched his arms out to the sky. “Very well. Where is this Lady Giuliana Crane?”
“Likely at home. She is the daughter of the Lord Seabright.”
“Seabright?” The Demon King rubbed his chin. “They’re an old family.” He yawned behind his hand. “How long has it been?”
“Two hundred years.”
“Ah, then much has changed.”
“Yes, my liege.”
The Demon King rose from his throne with a languid air. His raven-black hair fell in messy tangles down his back, skin white from eons without the warmth of the sun. He stood taller than all that he surveyed with his eerie violet gaze.
“Since you have awakened me, you will serve me. You know that, don’t you?”
“Lady Giuliana Crane is a particular friend of mine. I will do anything to save her, my liege.”
“Anything? Those are bold words for a mere mortal.” He narrowed his eyes. “What are you to this woman?”
“A friend. She is promised to the Duke of Wytchwood.”
Laughter bubbled in the Demon King’s throat. “Is that so? The Duke of Wytchwood. Ah, it becomes more clear.” He glided off the dais, heels of his boots tapping on the stone floor. He sniffed at his clothes and grunted. “I smell abysmal. It’s still bad form to pay a young woman a visit in such a state, yes?”
“We are still civil creatures, my liege.” The mage replied, eyes still glued to the frayed carpet.
“We’ll see about that.” He looked the mage over and snapped his fingers three times. Indigo smoke enveloped him. The mage peeked at the Demon King then, curious to see the extent of his magic. Slowly the smoke faded back into nothing and the Demon King stood there in a fine suit of black velvet tailored to his slim form, a silver-topped cane in his hand. His tangles of hair were cropped short in a style similar to the mage’s. “There, I feel much more alive.” The Demon King approached the mage, lips curling upwards. “Oh, I know you, don’t I?”
“I do not think so. I am still young.”
“Your body may be young, but your soul is old.” He tapped his cane on the stone floor. “Ah, she’s been busier than I expected. I suppose it will all have to end soon.”
“What will have to end?”
“It’d spoil the fun if I told you. What is your name?” Upon hearing it, the Demon King’s eyes widened. “She’s really outdone herself this time. Very well, I’ll play her games. I imagine she’s picked her champion.”
“Ms. Adella Dunstan.”
“Interesting. Then I shall take Lady Giuliana as mine. Take me to her.”
So, the Court Mage led the Demon King from the confines of his Palace and into the bustling Capital. The trek to the Seabright Manor took them through the sights and sounds of downtown which had changed much since the Demon King last roamed its streets. Smoke curled from buildings and carriages sped along the cobblestones.
“It is early yet, so she is likely at home.” The Court Mage slid an uneasy glance towards the Demon King. “It’s far too early for you to call upon her though. She is likely in a state of undress.” They pulled into the drive of the Seabright manor, passing one as its left.
He shrugged his shoulders. “I’m the Demon King. Such trivialities don’t matter to me.” The carriage jolted to a stop. “Is this the place?”
“Yes, it is.” The Court Mage let out a gasp. “The Duke is here already. That is his coach!”
“Then, she is receiving guests.”
“Well, they are engaged, my liege. It is not unusual.”
“You wait for me here. I like to make an entrance and you will merely drag me down.”
With that the Demon King vanished from the carriage. He sensed the presence of Lady Giuliana Crane, tucked away in the bowels of this Manor. Centuries ago, mere earls did not possess such massive properties. Times had certainly changed.
He found her sitting on the edge of her bed in some sort of silken robe in ruby red, plump figure cinched at the waist by an embroidered belt . He did not expect this ravishing creature with her piles of curls and dusky skin. Her slim fingers ran through the length of her hair, focused on detangling the knots. Though dark circles pooled beneath her eyes, he still found her a most beautiful woman. Perhaps the most beautiful one he had ever laid eyes upon.
She looked up from her task, honey brown eyes locking with his in surprise. Her perfectly-shaped lips parted before drawing up in a sneer. “Who the devil are you?”
Wow. Her voice sounded like the most beautiful song in the world.
The Demon King had forgotten his grand entrance with just a glance of her face. He quickly pulled out all the bells and whistles--smoke, darkness and ominous music. He cleared his throat.
“It is I, the Demon King, and I have come to claim you as my champion in this battle of w--”
The door to her bedroom slammed open to reveal a tall young man. His handsome face twisted in annoyance and he bellowed “Who is this?”
This must be the fiance. Perhaps he should have made his appearance when this little Duke was away.
“He’s the Demon King,” Lady Giuliana chirped in reply. She waved her hand about her, disrupting the smoke and darkness. The Demon King strode towards her.
“You use dark magick?”
“Obviously.” She glared at him. “Why are you in my bed chamber? Papa said you like to appear at balls and show off.”
He sniffed and folded his arms across his chest. “I do not show off.”
“Then what is all this?” The Duke asked, crossing the room to Lady Giuliana’s side.
“Just a bit of theatre.” He looked between them. “You must be Lord Wytchwood.”
“I am.”
“And you are Lady Giuliana?”
“Yes.”
“Good. I am the Demon King.”
“I will not refer to you as that,” Lady Giuliana replied. “It is too tedious.”
“I am amenable to ‘my liege’. Though you may call me Gadriel.” His gaze flicked momentarily to the Duke. “You may not.” The Duke sneered back at him.
Lady Giuliana cocked her head to the side. “Gadriel? How positively ancient!”
“I am the Demon King.”
“So you’ve said.”
Lady Giuliana chewed on the inside of her cheek. She hoped Isolda enjoyed her day off and wouldn’t return back to the manor. Imagine her maid’s horror if she found her with two men in her private chamber while she was dressed in such a state. She shook her head.
“Alastair, please take Gadriel into my sitting room. It seems he has pressing matters with me and I cannot receive guests in a state of dishabille. Mama is spinning in her grave.”
The Demon King bent at the waist. “If you need assistance with your dress, Lady Giuliana, I am happy to be your servant.”
Giuliana was certain a vein popped in the Duke’s neck with the sheer force of his death stare.
“You will not.” The Duke grabbed him by the back of his collar and dragged him toward the door. It was an impressive feat, thought Giuliana, considering this Gadriel overtook even Alastair in height. And Alastair had always been the tallest of their circle.
“Please ring for some refreshments!” She called after them, moving to shut the door. She locked it against them and leaned her back against the door.
“Just a casual visit from the Demon King,” she assured herself. “No big deal.”
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