Page 9 of Demon Seed

A soft sound from within—perhaps a stifled laugh?

I press on. "You don't have to come out if you're not ready. But at least let me bring you something to eat? The kitchen prepared honey cakes because she heard nymphs enjoy sweets.”

The lock clicks. The door opens just wide enough for me to see one eye peering out, suspicious but curious.

"They're not… watching me, are they?" Selene’s voice is barely above a whisper. "The others. I can feel their power. It's everywhere in this place."

I want to reach for her hand but resist the impulse. "They're curious, that's all. A nymph in our midst is unusual. But I've made it clear they shouldn’t approach you unless you ask for them."

I take Selene's hand gently in mine, her fingers cold and trembling slightly as we step from the safety of our chambers. Her eyes dart nervously down the long corridor, taking in the ancient tapestries and suits of armor that have become so familiar to me, yet must seem like sentinels of some foreign world to her.

"It's alright." I give her hand a reassuring squeeze. "No one will disturb us at this hour. Most of the residents are still at rest."

Selene nods, though the tension doesn't leave her shoulders. The silver moonlight spills through the tall windows, illuminating her face in a way that makes my breath catch. Even in her fear, she is magnificent.

I can't stop myself from watching Selene's face as we move through the castle corridors. Each new sight draws a different expression from her—wonder as we pass beneath the vaulted ceilings of the Great Hall, curiosity at the ancient tapestries depicting battles long forgotten, and a hesitant smile when I show her the hidden passage behind the third bookshelf in the eastern wing.

"This way," I say, guiding her toward the western wing. "I want to show you something that might make you feel more at home."

We pass through the grand hall, our footsteps echoing against the stone floor. Selene gasps when we enter the library, its ceiling stretching impossibly high, shelves upon shelves of books disappearing into shadow.

"It's beautiful," she breathes, and for the first time since her arrival, I see a spark of genuine wonder in her eyes.

"This is yours as much as mine now," I tell her, watching as she tentatively approaches a shelf, her fingers hovering over leather-bound spines. "Every volume and every corner of this castle."

When she turns to look at me, there's something new in her expression—not entirely trust, but perhaps the beginning of it. And I’m desperate enough to welcome whatever acceptance she offers.

I guide Selene into the throne room, my hand resting lightly on the small of her back. She hesitates at the threshold, her eyes widening as she takes in the vaulted ceiling, the obsidian pillars that rise like ancient trees, and the throne itself—carved from a single massive piece of midnight stone that seems to swallow light rather than reflect it.

"It's not what you expected," I say. Not a question.

Selene glances at me, a flicker of something—defiance, perhaps—crossing her features before she masks it. "I expected something more…"

"Ostentatious?" I offer, watching the subtle changes in her expression. The way she holds herself, poised between flight and confrontation.

"Warm," she finally says.

I can't help the laugh that escapes me, brief and genuine. "Warmth isn't something my kind are known for."

Selene steps forward, breaking contact with my hand, and I immediately miss the connection. She moves toward the throne with measured steps, her silver dress catching what little light exists in this chamber.

"May I?" she asks, her hand hovering near the throne's armrest.

With a smile, I hear myself say, "Yes."

As Selene approaches my throne, Morrigan's knee hits the marble floor with a soft thud, her armor catching the light from the high windows. Selene stiffens beside me, her fingers twitching slightly at the formal display.

"My queen," Morrigan says, head bowed so that her copper hair falls forward to obscure her face. "I am forever at your service."

I can feel the weight of the throne room pressing down on us—the ancient statues watching, the carved faces in the stonework judging. Selene hasn't grown accustomed to this yet—the deference and responsibility that come with her title. And frankly, neither have I.

"Rise, Captain," I say when Selene remains silent for a beat too long. "What news from the east?"

Morrigan stands, her movements fluid despite the armor. Her eyes flick to me briefly before returning to Selene. There's something there—hesitation, perhaps concern—that makes my skin prickle.

"There is movement on the Divine Peaks. We’ve spotted fae converging at the base, but they appear reluctant to move farther into your realm, Your Majesty. They appeared shortly after the queen’s arrival.” She pauses, squaring her shoulders. "And there are whispers of shadow creatures moving along our eastern border."

Selene's hand finds mine, her grip tight enough that I can feel her pulse hammering against my skin. "My grandmotheris a Lampade—a nymph of the underworld—and I believe she’s summoned help from the goddess of night." Breaking our connection, Selene wrings her hands and strides to the closest east-facing window.

---