Page 47 of Demon's Bride

I don’t have to find out. A demon I haven’t met before is waiting for me just outside the door, a handsome male who looks about twenty in human years, though I’m a little fuzzy on how that translates to demon years.

“Hello,” I say, surprised to find him there. “Were you waiting for me?”

“Yes,” he answers brightly, with a polite half-bow. “My name is Oswen and I’m to escort you back to your chambers.”

“Oh,” I say, offering an awkward curtsy in response. Are queen consorts supposed to curtsy? I add it to my mental list of questions for Eren. “Thank you. And sorry, if I knew you were waiting out here I would have told you to come in and make yourself comfortable.”

“It’s no trouble, truly, my lady. It’s as much my duty to stand guard and make sure nobody entered these rooms without permission.”

“Is that something I should be worried about?”

“No,” he assures me with another bright smile. “Not with me here, anyway.”

Not exactly reassuring. “Well, then, I guess I’m ready to head back upstairs.”

He leads the way down the hall, and another thought occurs to me. Is he going to fly me all the way back up? Oswen seems nice enough, and truth be told I’d rather have anyone, maybe even Vayla, fly me up rather than climb hundreds of stairs, but the prospect makes a little uneasy. I’m not sure I want any demon’s arms around me unless they belong tomydemon.

We approach a door just down the hallway from the archives. Why this one stands out after the hundreds I must have passed with Vayla on our walk here, I’m not sure, but the closer we get the more I can sense it.

Magick. Not quite like my own or any of the magick practiced by the coven, put it’s easy enough to feel it pulse from the other side of the door.

“A portal?”

Oswen nods. “His majesty had a few created today for your use. This one will bring you back to just outside your rooms.”

“Great,” I tell him with a warm smile, thankful I’m going to avoid the stairs or an awkward flight. “How does it work?”

“Just like any other door.”

Oswen pulls it open and my breath catches when I see that on the other side is the familiar hallway outside our bedchamber. The only thing that gives it away is a slight, shimmering film hanging in the doorway between here and there, the only sign that magick is at play.

He gestures to the door. “After you.”

Stepping through this portal thankfully feels very little like coming through the Veil. A fine mist of magick over my skin, the slightest tilting of the world around me, but it’s over after a moment as Oswen and I step into the hall.

When we reach the bedchamber door, I turn back and thank him. “Do you know when Eren will be up?”

His smile falters a little at that. “There were many petitioners still waiting to be heard in the great hall.”

I nod slowly. “They come here to tell him about everything going wrong in the realm?”

An even bigger slip of that smile. “Aye, they do. Nothing to concern yourself over, though. His majesty has it well in hand.”

I don’t want to argue with this unfamiliar demon, even if it stands to reason that having a line of people out your door all coming to tell you how they’re suffering hardly warrants a casual dismissal. Instead I smile, thank him again, and slip inside the room.

It’s a little strange, being here without Eren. After only a day, the space still feels likehisrather thanours, and after how fast everything seemed to move last night and this morning, I take a few minutes to explore.

The impact of the room’s sheer size and beauty hasn’t lessened since the first time I saw it last night. If anything, I’m able to fully let it sink in now that I have the time to slow down and study it a little more closely. Another fire’s been lit and I walk over to the plush fur rug in front of the hearth, finding that it’s every bit as soft and inviting as it looks.

An image of Eren laying me down here pops into my head. With a fire blazing and snow falling outside, I can almost see the way he would lower himself down on top of me, wings spread wide as he…

Alright, alright. No point in getting worked up when my demon’s not even here to play out that particular fantasy.

Setting sexy thoughts aside, I take stock of the cozy chairs and the handsome wood mantle mounted on the wall. It matches the dark, polished wood of the desk, the huge armoire, and the bedframe.

A plate of meats, cheeses and delicious soft-looking bread has been left on the small table between the two chairs, along with a decanter of dark red wine and two glasses. I sit for a few moments to eat and sip, watching the flames dance and wondering again how long it’s going to be before Eren will be back.

When it becomes more than apparent the answer to that question is “a while”, and I’ve eaten and drank my fill, I stand up again and brush a few stray crumbs off my dress.

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