Page 18 of To Dwell in Shadows
“Of course,” Asmodeus replied. He stamped one hoof on the ground three times. A band of flying imps with pock-marked wings and arms that hung longer than their legs descended from above. They hovered in the air, awaiting instructions. “Prepare the formal dining room and ready two guest suites—Samael, the lost Prince of Vengeance, has returned!”
Chapter 10
King Asmodeus and Queen Lamia led Sam into the formal dining room, their arms draped around him as if they couldn’t bear to let him go. Their closeness made Sam feel both comforted and slightly overwhelmed by their protective embrace.
He didn’t remember much about the dining room from his childhood, but he was struck by its elegance. Black brocade fabric lined the walls, and metal chandeliers resembling large bats hung from the ceiling. A row of tall windows along one wall looked out onto his mother’s second garden—the night-blooming one, where flowers only opened after dark.
The long obsidian table had been set with five place settings clustered at one end. Asmodeus took the seat at the head. When Sam pulled out a chair for Selene beside him, he was stopped by his mother’s voice.
“Selene can sit over here,” Queen Lamia said, gesturing to the last chair on the opposite side of the table. Her smile was polite, but it didn’t quite reach her eyes.
Sam looked at her, blinking. “I’d prefer my mate sit next to me.”
“But from there, she’ll have a lovely view of the gardens,” Lamia replied, her tone smooth and controlled.
“It’s fine,” Selene whispered. She circled the table and took the seat Lamia had indicated.
Sam sat down, feeling a bit unsettled but not wanting to create conflict.
With a casual wave of his hand, King Asmodeus lit every candle in the room at once, casting a golden glow across the dark furnishings. A trio of imps fluttered in, hovering midair with expectant expressions.
“Tonight,” the king announced, “you may have anything your heart desires. Picture your favorite food in your mind, and the imps will guide the demons of Gluttony in preparing it for you.”
He gestured to Thema with a smile. “Thema, may I also call you Sister? Please go first.”
“You may,” Queen Thema said, then scrunched her forehead in concentration. “Raw fish and clotted cream.”
One of the imps nodded then looked at Selene. “Can you do human food?” she asked.
“Anything,” the king said.
Selene closed her eyes. “I’ve been craving Southern comfort food, so I’d like hot chicken, macaroni and cheese, fried green tomatoes, and banana pudding.”
When she opened her eyes and the imp nodded, it was Sam’s turn. There were many dishes he liked in Aurelia, but the foods he had missed most from his childhood were simple—charred bread, fried vulture wings, and cinnamon sweet buns.
When the imps had everyone’s orders, they filled each chalice with dark wine and flew away.
Sam toyed with the edge of his napkin. The moment felt too big, and there was so much to say, he didn’t know where to start.
Should he ask his parents what they’ve been doing for the past twenty years? Recount his own story from the moment he waskidnapped? Or catch up on the current news of the realm as though he had never left?
Fortunately, Queen Thema was a skilled conversationalist. “This dining room is absolutely stunning. The chandeliers remind me of the ones you had back home, Lamia. Did you design them?”
“Yes. I wanted something to remind me of my past,” Queen Lamia said, referring to the bat—the sacred animal of the Goblyns from when she ruled in Aurelia.
“In my world, humans associate bats with vampires because of you,” Selene said. “Isn’t that interesting? Did you also have wings like a bat when patrolling Gaia?”
“Those wings were small and weak,” Lamia replied with a dismissive wave of her hand. “They called me the Jersey Devil because of it.”
She stretched out the elegant gray wings folded behind her back, then snapped them shut with a practiced motion. “Incomparable to the wings I gained when I became a demon.”
Asmodeus gazed at her fondly for a moment then turned to Selene. “This must be an exciting time for you. Have you given any thought to what kind of demon you wish to become?”
When she looked confused, the king continued, “What sort of vices are you drawn to? Lust, Greed, Malice, Strife? I estimate the transition will take no more than a season. We should begin planning a celebration for your official transformation.” He clapped once, sharp and commanding. “Imps! Come forward!”
Selene turned ashen. “Oh no, I don’t plan to become a demon.”
“You don’t?” Asmodeus asked.
