"Princess, I think this might be too much," Azrael grumbled as he heaved another five portraits into the ballroom. It was one of the smaller rooms meant for minor occasions and parties hosted by concubines, but still large enough to fit about fifty people inside. Currently, the room was lined with portraits that were stacked on top of each other like some construction materials.

"I never expected that there would be so many," Morrigan paled as she looked over them, wondering where she would even begin. While she had known that there were a lot of nobles which meant a lot of portraits, she never expected such a ridiculous amount.

"What are they all even ruling over? A single lava droplet within some tiny lava river?" Morrigan complained although she knew full well that the Demon Kingdom was larger than even the largest country on Earth in terms of size.

"No, there is a hierarchy. Dukes rule over marquises, marquises rule over counts, counts rule over viscounts, and so on and so forth until we get to the tiniest baron ruling some far-off village at the edge of the Demon Kingdom," Azrael explained as he put down the last stack of portraits on a spare spot on the floor.

"Yes, yes, I get it. But is it really necessary for me to remember all of this?" Morrigan grumbled and pointed at the neverending pile of portraits.

"No, you only need to remember the names. Not sure why you decided to make your task more difficult by remembering their faces," Azrael retorted and wiped the dust off his hand. Some of the portraits hadn't been touched in decades, making the ballroom smell of dust and old wood.

"There's no way I can just mechanically recite that giant list of names. It'll be much easier if I can remember their faces," she retorted, and Azrael sneered.

"Well, good luck. You have two days to go through all of these if you want to beat me," the white-haired demon smirked and promptly left Morrigan alone with the portraits. She looked over them all again and sighed.

This will be a long day.

***

Three hours later a tentative knock sounded on the ballroom door, bringing Morrigan out of her contemplation.

"Come in?" she called and rubbed her tired eyes.

"How are you doing, Lady Morrigan?" Gunna came into the room carrying a tray with what appeared to be sandwiches and tea. The nanny was smiling as she approached Morrigan, being careful to sidestep any portraits that had managed to slide out of place. At this point, Morrigan was almost as tall as the dwarf woman, albeit much more petite.

"This is wonderful, Gunna!" Morrigan replied excitedly and took a sandwich from the tray, biting into it with much gusto. "Although these are all supposed to be accurate representations of each demon noble, the variation in art style and techniques used is astounding!"

"Art style?" Gunna asked, setting down the tray on the floor, and picking up the teacup to offer it to Morrigan. The girl scarfed down the sandwich, surprised by how hungry she actually felt, and then drank the warm tea with it.

"Yes, Gunna! Look at this portrait for example," Morrigan pulled forward the one behind her which portrayed a blonde demoness with nearly black skin. "It clearly portrays all the important features of this person, clearly showing her characteristics and enhancing her most attractive features. But when you look closely you see that it is done with simple colors and using a minimal amount of shadows."

Morrigan then carefully put the portrait aside and pulled another one forward, this time with a bulky demon man that had pale blue skin and horns that curved like those of a ram. "This portrait however focuses on every little detail. Every pore, every crevice, every single hair on his head is drawn in perfect detail."

She then pulled the portraits so they would stand next to each other, holding each one upright with her hands. "Gunna, which one do you think is better?"

The nanny looked from one portrait to the next, stroking her beard in contemplation. She squinted her eyes, trying to discern something in one portrait, then the next. In the end, she shrugged, "I don't know, Lady Morrigan. They both look nice in my opinion."

"Exactly, Gunna! Despite these two artists using such different techniques and styles, both pieces came out looking stunning, capturing the person in question perfectly. In fact, I'd say that these two went above and beyond. I can already imagine how these two people would act if I were to meet them."

Morrigan's eyes were filled with excitement, and Gunna smiled at the girl, offering her another sandwich. She put the portraits down and then took it, eating it just as hastily as the first one.

"So I see your idea of learning noble names by looking at their portrait is going well," the nanny noted, and Morrigan's expression fell.

"Actually the name-learning thing isn't going as well as I had hoped," she admitted, and took the third sandwich from Gunna, biting into it and chewing it with deliberate slowness.

"Why not?" the nanny asked, offering tea for Morrigan to drink again. She took the tea, sipped it and sighed.

Unauthorized tale usage: if you spot this story on Amazon, report the violation.

"Well, it started well enough. I looked at the portrait, looked at the name and thought I had it memorized. So I moved on to the next one. The art style was different, so compared the two. And then I looked at another one, and another one. And completely forgot about the names," Morrigan sighed, looking down into the teacup.

"Hmm… perhaps we can find a different approach for you to learn," Gunna said and gently stroked Morrigan's shoulder. Her warm hand calmed Morrigan a little bit, but the problem still remained.

"Morri! Morri! Are you in there?" Deziara's voice came from the entrance, the girl obstructed by a mountain of paintings.

"Yes, I'm here!" she called back, and Deziara's cheery expression appeared from behind the pile. The girl was now seventeen and looked more like an adult than a child. Her black hair cascaded over her shoulders while her black eyes observed everything with the same sharpness as her father's. Morrigan thought that her sister had grown into quite the beauty.

"What's with all these portraits, Morri?" Deziara asked as she looked from one picture to the next. "Who are all these demons?"

"Leaders of every noble house in the Demon Kingdom. I am supposed to learn their names as soon as possible," Morrigan changed her voice to match the strict tone of Lord Weisedun, and Deziara chuckled.

"Ah, yes. I had to do that a few years ago. I don't know how he expects anybody to just remember a giant list of names right off the bat. It's ridiculous," Deziara sighed, and then her eyes landed on the sandwich tray Gunna was holding. "Do you mind if I take one?"

"Of course not. Enjoy, Lady Deziara," Gunna offered the tray to the girl, and she gratefully took a sandwich. Over the years Deziara had grown to like Morrigan's nanny despite her being a slave, something Morrigan was really grateful for. She probably wouldn't be able to remain on good terms with her sister if she kept belittling the dwarf woman each time they met. Like unfortunately most of the Demon Castle inhabitants did.

"I know right? How did you learn?" Morrigan asked, hoping to find inspiration from her sister.

"My mom helped me. She's a very good teacher!" Deziara announced proudly then poked the nearest pile of portraits with her free hand. "Are these helping?"

"No. I keep getting distracted by the artwork and completely forget I need to learn their names," Morrigan admitted, and Deziara chuckled.

"Figures. Each time you see a painting you basically become glued to it for hours."

Morrigan pouted, although she knew her sister was correct.

"I just hoped that tying an annoying task with something I enjoyed would help."

"How about I help you? I've learned all their names," Deziara offered and took a large bite of the sandwich, munching on it with contentment. "This is really good, Gunna!"

"Thank you, Lady Deziara," the nanny bowed her head. "Would you like me to bring you some tea?"

"Yes, that would be fantastic. Something light please."

"As you wish," Gunna smiled and hurried out of the room, leaving the tray of sandwiches on the floor. Deziara immediately took another one.

"You'd really help me?" Morrigan stared at her sister with hopeful eyes. "It will probably take some time for me to memorize them."

"What are sisters for if not to help one another?" Deziara nodded, and Morrigan gave her a quick side hug, being careful to not knock the food out of her hands.

"Why don't I help you out as well?" a feminine voice said and shortly after Viana emerged from behind a portrait stack near the entrance.

"Did your mother never teach you that eavesdropping is rude?" Deziara grumbled and took a deliberate bite out of her sandwich.

"Did your mother never teach you that yelling your conversation for the whole castle to hear is rude?" Viana retorted, a pleasant smile on her lips. Her red eyes, however, were cold and scanned the room, quickly assessing the situation. "Little Morrigan, making trouble again?"

"I am not! I'm learning," Morrigan objected, crossing her hands over her chest. Viana always seemed to know how to get under her skin.

Viana arched her eyebrow and looked at the portraits as if they were piles of dragon dung, waving her hand in front of her nose to clear away the dust that was floating around in the room. "Since when is dragging old, dusty pictures through the castle considered learning?"

"That's none of your business, Viana! Go annoy somebody else," Deziara snarled, making a shooing motion with her hand.

"How cold. I just came to check on what could have made my sweet little sisters so distraught and yet they are trying to shoo me away as if I were some dog," Viana waved her hand in the air dramatically and then walked up to the closest pile of portraits and assessed it. "My, isn't this Baron Merkov?"

"You just came here to poke fun," Deziara grumbled and Morrigan nodded along with her, both younger sisters glaring at the eldest.

"Me? I would never. That is such a crude thing to do," a smile appeared on Viana's lips as she strode closer towards them, looking from one portrait to the next. "It seems like you have collected the portraits of all of the leaders of noble houses."

"So what if I have?"

Just go away already. You're beginning to remind me of Asdeus.

Although the horrid demoness had disappeared without a trace and hadn't been seen since the day Morrigan returned to Doppelta, she often worried that Asdeus might just reappear. It wasn't logical – she knew that. Demon Castle had increased its security twice over and screening of any new employees was so meticulous that even the most talented shape-shifter couldn't hope to get in.

But the fact that Asdeus was still out there somewhere, no doubt plotting her next move, scared Morrigan. She was sure that the demoness would not remain hidden in the shadows forever.

"My, my, my the prodigal Crown Princess is having trouble remembering a few names. How shocking!" Viana laughed gleefully and walked up to Morrigan, standing just a few centimeters away from them, looking down with her penetrating red gaze. "I wonder what Father is going to say?"

"Father doesn't care about such petty things!" Deziara protested.

"Oh, no, of course not. But what is he supposed to say to his people when his heir can't even do such a basic thing as remember a few names?" Viana sneered, then turned on her heel. "I do hope you manage to sort this out, my dearest youngest sister."

"She will! Just watch!" Deziara yelled after her, but Morrigan began to ponder.

What can Father do if I actually fail my tasks as Crown Princess? He cannot have an incompetent heir, no matter how much he loves me.