Page 11 of Tricky Princess
Ellea tried mimicking the way he said the “chan” with a deep gruff, like he was trying to clear his throat. She had only met one or two people in her life with an accent like his.
“Why are you whispering?” he asked, mirroring her lowered tone.
Why was she whispering? Oh right, she was currently sneaking through the halls of a castle in Hel. His eyes lowered to her raised hand that still held the obsidian dagger.
“Ah,” he said with an even broader smile, showing off his oversized, sharp canines. Demon, she guessed. He reached out a finger to tap the tip of the dagger. “So you can create obsidian? Wicked.”
“Wicked?”
“You’re whispering again.” He chuckled. “Let’s put the weapons away, little one.”
Ellea squinted at him. There wasn’t much a tiny dagger would do with this guy, demon, or whatever he was. All she knew was he was huge, taller and broader than any male she had ever met—even the brute who was taking way too long to get there. Ellea shook her head and glared up at him. His short brown hair had a soft wave to it, and his freckled face offset the green of his eyes. They glinted as he studied her the same way she was studying him. She noticed an intricate tattoo poking from his simple black shirt, but didn’t get a chance to inspect it as he reached his large hand toward her. She pulled her hand back, unwilling to let him take the dagger.
“I’m Duhne.” He held out his massive hand. “You must be the princess the staff has been going on about.”
“Staff?” She hadn’t seen any staff yet, only Lord Dale. “How? I haven’t seen anyone.”
He cocked a brow at her and retracted his un-shaken hand.
“Well, besides Modeus.” She made a face at the attempted nickname, and Duhne’s eyebrows rose, his eyes crinkling with amusement. She cleared her throat and continued, “Asmodeus, Lord Dale, and Belias.”
He leaned in close and whispered, “The walls have ears, eyes, and teeth.”
Teeth? Well, it is Hel.
“I’m Ellea.” She waved the dagger, chasing away her thoughts of being eaten by a wall. His green eyes warily tracked the movement. Rolling her own, she conjured a black leather thigh strap and placed the dagger in the sheath.
“So,” he said, straightening and growing an extra foot. “Why are you in my uncle Modeus’ office?”
“Let’s not tell him I tried Modeus.” She gagged on the name. “And I was trying to find coffee.”
It shouldn’t be this hard to get the only source that helped her function at a somewhat normal level. A pain was forming behind her eyes from the little magic she’d been able to do and all the conjuring she’d attempted. She suppressed a groan. Maybe if she could find coffee, she could…
“Please tell me you have coffee in Hel.” Ellea rubbed at the spot between her brows. She may have to burn this place to the ground if they didn’t have it.
Duhne chuckled and walked over to a tasseled rope hanging by a door she hadn’t noticed. As soon as he pulled it, someone walked out of a nearby bookcase as if he had been standing with the shelves just waiting to be summoned. He was dressed in an all-black uniform, buttoned to his wrists and throat. He clasped his pale hands in front of his waist, and his eyes widened when he saw Ellea. All the blood drained from his pallid face. Besides him visibly shaking in her presence, she couldn’t help but love how cute his horns were. They jutted out from his temples and curled around his ears. They were bone white and had a faint opalescent sheen to them. His golden hair curled in tight ringlets that seemed feather-soft next to the rough edges of his horns.
“Reaver,” Duhne addressed the demon. “I’m sure you’ve heard about our visiting princess—”
“I’m not a princess,” Ellea cut in. She barely liked it when Ros called her that. Well, she kind of didn’t like it.
“Ri—” The demon, Reaver, stuttered a few times before finally saying. “Yes, I’ve heard a few things about our, er, visitor.”
He seemed unable to tear his gaze from Ellea, and with each second of his gawking, she found herself wanting to tease and provoke him. Duhne stepped forward and blocked Ellea from his view.
“Reaver,” Duhne said in a deep, commanding voice. “I called for a reason.”
The demon peeked around Duhne’s body, barely coming up to his chest. Reaver seemed to be a little taller than Ellea but very spindly. She didn’t feel threatened by him, only curious about what type of demon he was. Did he have specific magic or powers? He tore his eyes away from Ellea and looked up at Duhne, straining his neck to meet his gaze.
“Yes, Prince Duhne. You called?”
“Ellea and I would like coffee in the west library,” Duhne said, and Ellea’s stomach grumbled in response. “And an assortment of breakfast pastries and sandwiches.”
Reaver looked very confused and then said, “Breakfast and lunch?”
“It’s called brunch,” Duhne said with a smirk.
“You know what brunch is?”
