Vandel

Tuttle appeared, carrying a large item hidden beneath a red silk cloth. It was almost too big for him to carry. Nonetheless, he seemed to waddle towards me with as much speed as his little legs could muster.

I waved a hand at him. "Put it down already. Let's have a look." Tuttle moved to pull the silk covering off the item, but I shook my head. "No, no, no, NO, Tuttle! You're doing it all wrong!"

"I thought I was just...showing you your painting, sir..."

"You need to present it with a little more flare. Put some effort into it, why don't you? Gods, what am I even paying you for?"

"You're...not paying me, my lord..."

"Just reveal the damn painting already. I'm getting bored."

Tuttle bowed his head before tugging off the cloth, revealing the large oil painting beneath.

"Um...sire..." Tuttle said meekly. "Forgive me if I'm being too bold in asking, but...why did you have the royal painter make you this giant portrait of Sir Ridley?"

"Because he was able to kidnap me. I've finally met a rival on my level. I have a nemesis and I want to be reminded of my hatred for him every time I see this." Tuttle and I both looked at the painting now. An awkward silence fell between us as we stared at it. "It doesn't really look like him, does it?"

"No...it really doesn't."

I frowned. "Who the hell did we have paint this again?"

"The royal portrait painter, Boris."

"The royal portrait painter has a name?"

"Yes, remember, he was that goblin your mother took a liking to back in—"

"Okay, okay, yes, I remember. Let's not talk about that!" I squinted at the painting. "Gods, has he ever even seen a human before? I'm pretty sure he got the nose and the eyes mixed up."

"Oh, he most certainly did."

I snapped my fingers and the painting flew through the air, mounting itself on the wall.

"Well, I don't really care about the state of the portrait. All that matters is that now—I can do this!" I grinned, pulling out a dagger.

In one graceful movement, I sent it flying. It landed with a thud squarely between the portrait's eyes...or at least where the eyes would have been if there weren't two noses there instead. Thanks, Boris.

My head fell back with a cackle. "You have no idea how long I've wanted to do that! I've just never had a rival worthy of throwing daggers at a picture of their face before!" 

Tuttle waddled forward. "Um...I don't mean to ruin your moment, my liege... but I believe it's six o'clock..."

"So?"

"You have a meeting with your mother."

"Fuck!" I waved a hand, dismissing Tuttle before frantically dashing to my mirror.

I hated having to go to mother with bad news. Normally, my mirror time made me feel better, but not today. To say she would be displeased with the events that transpired last night would be the understatement of the bloody century. I never imagined that the damn princess and Sir Ridley could have kidnapped me single-handedly. If that annoying knight hadn't been foolish enough to let me lead him straight to a monster, I could have been in serious trouble. I would have let him die, but...I kinda liked the idea of having an arch-nemesis. 

I took a deep breath, banishing the knight from my thoughts. It was time to visit Mother. Smothering a grimace, I strode down the hall, the dark purple cape I had chosen for the day fluttering out behind me. Adjacent to the entrance of the throne room loomed a golden door. Two guards flanked it, bowing immediately upon seeing me approach.

I cleared my throat dramatically. "I am here to see my mother, the queen of the demons, Victoria."

"Of course, Your Highness," the guards replied in unison.

With a creak, the door swung open and I swept inside. The room was pitch-black. Normally, that wouldn't be an issue for me, but the magic was so strong in here that even I couldn't see shit. 

"Hello, mumsy dearest," I said as sweetly as I could.

The air grew cold and a shiver shot up my spine.

"Vandel, how nice of you to finally visit," my mother's disembodied voice echoed around me.

Ugh, I hated when she talked to me without physically manifesting herself. It always gave me the creeps.

I swallowed down the lump that'd formed in my throat. "I'm afraid I have some, err...rather bad news. Please don't be too disappointed in your lil wittle Vandel poo-"

"For the love of the Gods, Vandel, just drop the bullshit and spit it out."

"The princess escaped."

Silence. It hung heavy over the dark room. My shoulders had gone rigid, my fingers curling into my palms as I willed my legs to not buckle out from under me. 

Then finally, my mother spoke again. "Figures."

I blinked. "What?"

"I said, figures."

"Wait...you're not surprised?"

"I'm a tad disappointed, but that's about it. So we didn't get the princess this time, who cares, there's still plenty of other opportunities."

I furrowed my brow in the darkness. "But it will most definitely be harder to kidnap her now that the humans are on high alert."

"Which is why I already have another plan in the works. Surely you remember that the Haunting Ball will occur in one moon's time."

Right, the Haunting Ball, how could I forget? It graced us once every fifty years, an event that I had only experienced a handful of times in my short 210 years of life. For one night only, humans and demons came together in peace, the festivities unfolding at a sacred junction between our realms.  And why, you may ask?

Thousands of years ago, a warlock tried to bring about peace between the humans and the demons. So he put a curse on both kingdoms that a horrible fate would befall us if we didn't attend the ball and follow his rules. Unfortunately for that warlock, the power it took to create the curse ended up killing him. And even more unfortunately, the Haunting Ball did jackshit to help human and demon relations. In the end, it was nothing more than a bothersome annoyance for both races.

"But, Mumsy, you know we can't make a move on the humans during the Haunting Ball. It's against the rules."

The air in the dark room was charged, practically crackling with electricity as my mother chuckled. "We won't theoretically be making a move, simply planting the seeds to put my new plan into motion."

My lips curled upward. "Oh my, do elaborate, Mother dearest"

"I will, Vandel. But, you must promise, anything I tell you stays between us—and us alone."

"Obviously. I mean, literally who else would I tell? I don't have friends." I perked up, fluttering my eyelashes. "Oh, and Mumsy? On the subject of requests..."

"Yes?"

"Can we please fire Boris the royal portrait painter?"

"No."

"Pretty, pretty please."

"I said no, Vandel."

My shoulders sagged. "But muuuuuuuuuuum-"

"Don't you but mum me. What are you, 120 years old?"