Page 16 of Drawn to the Demon Duke
Swallowing back the saliva welling up in my mouth, I focus on the two chairs again. The one at the head of the table is obviously meant for the duke. It’s a copy of the crystalline throne in his throne room, big and imposing, perfect for his massive bulk. The other one, though?
It’s a smaller version, designed for either a tiny demon—or a human woman—in mind. It has a padded seat, too, and it’s clearly not a chair meant for a dungeon dweller.
The reminder that that’s where I’ve been all along with all of this luxury and brilliance and obvious displays of demon wealth and power only a few floors above me… it gets to me—and I let Haures know it.
I arch my eyebrow in a perfect mimicry of my older sister. I even match her tone as I say, “I didn’t think you’d eat with one of your prisoners.”
Haures purses his lips around his tusks. “You are not my prisoner.”
That’s news to me. “I’m sorry. I guess I got the wrong idea with the chains and the dungeon.”
Who is this Susanna? My whole life, I was the quiet one. The studious girl. I only ever got to be sassy when I was teasing Amy. Mindy would sigh and tell me to grow up if I showed any hint of teenage rebellion and attitude, and after I found theGrimoire du Sombraand dedicated my twenties to translating it, I guess I did.
But, suddenly, it’s like I can’t help myself.
Then again, I grew up in a feminist-forward household. I kind of had to since Dad went out for milk one day when I was fourteen and never came back. Even before then, though, our mom led by example. She worked as a secretary while I was in school instead of staying at home, though she always told me that, if I chose to be a housewife when I grow up, that was as valid a career as working for Mr. Walker at the ad agency was.
That was what Mindy wanted. Me? I wanted a man who loved me for me, and I’m just not sure it can be this demon duke.
Especially when, instead of understanding my sarcastic quip, he says graciously, “You have nothing to be sorry for.” And if that didn’t make me sputter, following his comment up with, “A duchess does not apologize,” does.
Really?
Well, it’s a good thing I’m not a duchess, then.
Grabbing the tiny chair, he drags it out, waiting for me to take a seat.
I could say ‘no’. I could refuse, but if I do, how much do you bet he’ll just toss me back into the dungeon?
For some reason, Haures has decided to humor me tonight. Who knows? Maybe this is my chance. Either to convince him to let me go back home since he obviously doesn’t want me around, or to get a better understanding of why I can’t help feeling drawn to the demon duke even though I have every reason to hate him.Like two magnets, there’s an undeniable pull between us. At least, to me, there is.
Haures? I can’t tell, and the chance to get a better read on the big demon has me plopping down in the seat.
He nods in approval, the blue light winking off of his crystalline crown as he strides over to the head of the table, pulling out his own seat, and sinking royally down into it.
I expect servants. He’s, like, the not-king, right? He should have servants to cook this elaborate meal, then serve it.
Maybe he does. Maybe he gave them the night off so that they didn’t have to deal with the stray human in the duke’s castle. Whatever the reason, Haures grabs one plate, filing it with a little of everything before setting it down in front of me.
“Eat,” he orders. “Then we’ll talk.”
I pick up the instrument that’s the closest to the fork. Made of crystal like nearly everything else in here, it’s the same three-pronged utensil that comes with the plates of meat the guards have been trying to feed me.
There are a few different familiar hunks on my plate. There’s also a pale purple fruit that reminds me of a miniature plum, or a supersized grape. I spear it, then pause when I notice that the plate Haures made for me is theonlyplate he made.
“Aren’t you going to eat?”
“I will after I’ve seen you fed, mortal.”
I let that one slide because I’m a little bit suspicious when it comes to what he said before that. Oh, heck. I’m not, like, his poison-taster, am I?
Lifting the maybe-plum up so that I can get a better look at it, I frown. “Hey. You’re not, like, gonna try to poison me are you?”
Haures’s huffs, almost as if my tease—that’s really not a tease, sorry—offended him. “If I wanted you eliminated, I’d send you to the shadows.”
I don’t know quite what that means, but… hey. Good to know. “So, I can eat this?” Because while I said I’d rather starve, I’m thinking twice now that my stomach is super unsettled. I just hope that it’s hunger… and not something else. “It’s safe for humans?”
“It should be.”
