Tonight, the forest is alive with whispers—a rare occurrence in my existence. I roam these woods often, finding solace in their untouched serenity. The irony of peace I receive from the mortal realm away from my duties seem to touch upon something different tonight. A shift in the atmosphere that draws me toward the edge of the forest, where moonlight dances on a hidden lake. In this secluded gen on the edge of the forest, illuminated by the soft light of the moon, I see her then—a figure moving gracefully through the moonlit clearing. She is unlike anyone I’ve seen before, with a regal air that contrasts sharply with the natural surroundings. Her presence is like a beacon in the night, compelling me to approach. Her long, wavy dark brown hair cascades over her shoulders to her waist like a waterfall of shadow, catching the light in shimmering waves.
My initial curiosity is purely observational. I’ve encountered countless beings in my long existence, yet this one intrigues me with a strange allure. She moves with an elegance that seems out of place in such an unassuming setting. I decided to step closer, driven by a desire to understand this inexplicable pull. She pauses at the edge of the lake, her movements hesitant, as if contemplating a profound decision. Her round jaded eyes—deep and expressive—glimmer with a mix of vulnerability and strength, drawing me in with their mysterious charm. They reflect the moonlight like precious gems, hinting at untold stories and unfulfilled dreams. Soft, plump lips part slightly as she exhales a heavy sigh, laden with an emotion I can’t quite place—perhaps sorrow or longing Her chest rises and falls with a slow, rhythmic breath, and a heavy sigh escapes her lips. She settles on the grass ledge near the water, her legs dangling over the edge, gently swinging back and forth as she lost in thought.
Drawn by an irresistible urge to understand this inexplicable pull, I make my way closer. The soft crunch of leaves underfoot and the muted rustling of the forest accompany my approach. I am careful to remain in the shadows, my presence barely perceptible. As I get near her, I take a moment to observe, noting the details of her appearance—the delicate fabric of her gown, the subtle glow of her skin in the moonlight, and the serene yet troubled expression on her face.
Finally, unable to resist any longer, I step forward, making my presence known. I emerge from the shadows, my figure partially illuminated by the moon’s glow. I offer a gentle smile, hoping to convey a sense of calm and friendliness. Hopeful she wouldn’t mind the horns protruding out my head, I gathered myself towards her.
“Good evening,” I say softly, my voice carrying a smooth, soothing tone. “I hope I’m not intruding.”
Her head snaps up, and she blinks in surprise at me. I don’t blame her. I can sense her heart racing for a moment before she catches her breath, taking in the sight of me emerging from the shadows. Her round jaded eyes widen then follows straight to the horns making me feel tensed. This was a futile way of approaching her, I thought to myself. A mortal before me, of course she wouldn’t dare be at ease. From here I can see the features of her face and she’s even more regal up close. Her face is elegantly oval, framed by waves of her full dark brown hair that shimmer in the soft light. Full lips curve at the edges, and her subtle high cheekbones lend an air of sophistication. Her nose, straight with a gentle bridge, complements her features, while her soft-angled eyebrows arch gracefully, enhancing the expressive nature of her jaded eyes. Those eyes, deep and captivating, glimmer with a mixture of curiosity and resolve making it impossible to look away.
Frozen in place, she seemed to accept that I was here for her head. She takes a moment to collect her thoughts before responding, her voice tinged with cautious curiosity.
I take a few more steps closer, ensuring my demeanor remains relaxed and inviting. I sense her initial hesitation and aim to put her at ease. “I don’t mean to frighten you. Please, I mean no harm in any sense.” She studies me with curiosity rather than fear, her brow relaxing. “You’re not afraid of me?”
“I’ve decided just now. Not to be afraid. Honestly, I’m intrigued. Are you here to take my soul or request a contract with me?” She imitates my horns with her fingers above her head, “Mr. Devil Sire.”
I’m honestly so caught off guard by her response. Should I be offended that a small but mighty woman as she imitated my horns? As ethereal as she is herself, a sharp tongue I can see. The tension between us lifts with her touch of humor I suppose.
I let out a soft chuckle hearing her words. “Oh, no. I’ve been wandering these woods for some time now, and I couldn’t help but notice your presence. It’s not often I encounter someone who seems so out of place in such a serene setting. Forgive me if I’m being forward,” I continue, my tone light, “but you seem to possess a certain grace that is quite unusual for this part of the forest. Are you lost, or simply seeking something?”
Her lips curl into a faint, hesitant smile. “Neither, I suppose,” she says. “I was just taking a break from the expectations that follow me. Sometimes, it’s nice to be away from the noise and just... reflect.”
I nod in understanding, sensing that her words hold a deeper meaning. “Reflection can be a powerful thing. I find that the quiet moments often reveal the most about us. May I join you for a while? I promise I won’t be a bother.” She gestures her palm to the ground next to her. A bit surprised she’d want me that near despite our sudden meeting. I settle beside her, maintaining a respectful distance. The silence that follows is comfortable, punctuated only by the gentle lapping of the lake’s water and the occasional rustle of leaves in the breeze. I take in the scene, appreciating the beauty of the night and the peaceful ambiance of the glen.
“This must be a dream.” She says staring out towards the glistening lake. “I must be at ends wits. You know the saying, ‘curiosity killed the cat?’ I feel like that’s me right now. Maybe you’re my getaway from my duties and expectations.” She smirks and continues to swing her legs playfully. “I wasn’t expecting the Devil himself to step before me. You know, the horns make it a little obvious if that’s what you weren’t going for.”
“I’m sorry, but can I just ask why you decided not to be afraid of me? The way you speak towards me casually as if I was a bystander perplexes me.” I was curious for sure. I watch as she turns her gaze back to the lake, a thoughtful expression gracing her features. Her words are tinged with a hint of amusement, and I can’t help but appreciate the playful edge she brings to the conversation. Her ability to find humor even in the presence of something as unconventional as me speaks volumes about her character.
“I must admit,” she says, “that the sight of you is quite unexpected. I’ve read tales of your kind but seeing you in person is an entirely different experience. The horns are a bit of a giveaway, aren’t they?”
I let out a soft chuckle, the sound mingling with the gentle rustle of the leaves. “I suppose they are. I do have a certain... distinctiveness about me. But I assure you, my presence here is not as sinister as the stories might suggest.”
She smiles, the expression warm and genuine. “You’ve certainly proven that with your polite introduction. But to answer your question—why I chose not to be afraid—it’s simply because I was more intrigued than frightened. You’re a curious anomaly in my world, and sometimes, curiosity can outweigh fear.” Her warm smile and the genuine tone in her voice create an unexpected sense of ease. The way she speaks about curiosity outweighing fear speaks to a depth of spirit I hadn’t anticipated. As she tucks a strand of dark brown hair behind her ear and clears her throat, our eyes meet. Her soft jaded eyes glistening with the moonlight makes something shift within me. It’s an unfamiliar sensation, a flutter of interest that I haven’t felt in a long time.
When she extends her hand toward me, the gesture is both formal and inviting. “Apologies,” she says, her voice carrying a hint of self-consciousness, “I didn’t even give you a proper introduction. I’m Evangeline. Evangeline Esperious.”
The name catches me off guard. Esperious? The significance of the name immediately registers. She’s not just any mortal; she’s royalty. The realization adds a new layer of complexity to our interaction. I hadn't anticipated that my chance encounter would involve someone of such high status.
I take her hand gently in mine, my touch deliberate and careful. Her hands are delicate, soft, warm and embraces my hand with a slight squeeze. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Lady Evangeline,” I say, my voice imbued with a touch of respect. “I’m Lucien.”
Evangeline’s eyes meet mine with a spark of curiosity. “Lucien. You’re not what I expected from the tales of your kind. I’ve heard so many stories, but none of them prepared me for this moment.”
“I must say the same for you. I was not prepared to converse with a royal, your highness. You’re quite far from the palace, especially this late in the night.”
Her eye settles and her light smile fades. A gentle chuckle escapes her rose tinted lips “Of course, my family name is a bit of a giveaway for me?” She suddenly laughs, “Do you get my reference? You know you’re the horns and I’m the family name.” Her laughter is like a melody, light and infectious, breaking the remaining tension between us. I find myself smiling at her playful remark, the genuine amusement in her voice adding warmth to the night air. Her ability to laugh at herself and make light of our situation is both endearing and refreshing.
“I do get your reference,” I reply, chuckling softly. “Though I must admit, I hadn’t anticipated being compared to a family name. I suppose it’s fitting in its own way.”
This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road. If you spot it on Amazon, please report it.
Evangeline’s eyes twinkled with that familiar blend of mischief and sincerity, a combination that managed to draw me in. “If we’re being honest,” she began, her voice light but genuine, “I was just trying to break the ice. It’s not every day I meet someone who defies the typical image of their kind. And I’ve always believed laughter is the best way to bridge any gap, no matter how vast. Humor reveals the truest parts of us.”
I watched as her gaze shifted to the lake, her tone softening with thoughtfulness. There was something captivating about the way she spoke—like each word was wrapped in layers of meaning, and yet, completely unguarded. “It lets us see each other as more than just roles or expectations. And tonight... tonight’s been a welcome departure from the formality of my royal life. Fleeing from the palace can be freeing sometimes. Riding out here, feeling the breeze, the thrill of not getting caught—it’s exhilarating.”
She absentmindedly brushed her hand through her hair, a hint of amusement playing on her lips. “Not exactly the behavior of a proper princess, is it?”
A smile tugged at the corner of my mouth. There was a rare openness to her that I found refreshing. “We all need a break from formalities,” I replied, my voice low, but sincere.
“Maybe…” she murmured, her expression softening even further. “Or maybe it’s because you’re not from my world. It makes me feel like I can just be myself around you. What would my people think if they knew their future queen enjoys snarky remarks, playful banter, or even shares a laugh now and then?”
Her words resonated with me more deeply than I’d expected. I nodded in agreement, appreciating the honesty in her voice. “I couldn’t agree more. Laughter has a way of making even the strangest situations feel normal. It reminds us that, despite everything, we can find common ground.”
And for a moment, I felt something shift. My smile faltered as a heavier truth surfaced, one I hadn’t allowed myself to voice in a long time. “It’s been centuries since I’ve truly laughed,” I admitted quietly, surprised by the ease with which the confession came out. There was something in her vulnerability that stirred something deep within me. It felt as if, in this brief instant, we’d both managed to strip away the layers that usually kept others at a distance.
“Perhaps this encounter is more than just a chance meeting,” I suggest softly. “Maybe it’s a glimpse into something beyond our respective roles and expectations—a chance to understand each other in a way that’s rare and meaningful.”
Evangeline’s expression shifts into something thoughtful. “You might be right. It’s moments like these that make me question the limitations imposed by my life. I’ve always felt confined by my duties, but tonight, I’m reminded that there’s a world beyond those constraints.” Her hands become animated but subtle.
“It’s fascinating,” I say, my voice reflective.
“I never imagined I’d be sitting here, sharing a moment with someone like you. I’ve always felt like there’s something missing in my life—something beyond the royal duties and expectations that weigh on me. And here you are, a devil of all things, offering a different kind of perspective.”
I tilted my head slightly, as if contemplating her words. “And what do you find missing in your life? If you don’t mind me asking.”
She seemed to consider my question carefully. “I suppose it’s the freedom to explore and experience things on my own terms. There are so many constraints placed on me, so many expectations to fulfill. Sometimes, I just want to escape and see what else is out there, beyond the confines of my royal duties.”
I nod with sense of understanding. “And perhaps there’s a world beyond the boundaries of my realm as well. It’s encounters like this that make me wonder about the possibilities that exist beyond the familiar.”
Evangeline shifts beside me, drawing her knees up to her chest as she gazes out at the lake. The moonlight dances on the water, casting a silver glow over everything. There’s a heaviness to her posture, a silent weight that hangs between us, visible yet unspoken.
“You know,” she says quietly, her voice almost blending with the night, “sometimes I wonder if the world we’re born into—whether it’s one of privilege or power—is actually a cage. It might look beautiful from the outside, but it’s still a cage.”
I turn my gaze away from the reflection of the stars on the water and toward her. Her words resonate more than I’d like to admit. I, too, have often felt that same confinement. The duties of my realm, the weight of eternal rulership—it’s all a chain I’ve grown accustomed to wearing. Still, hearing it spoken aloud by her feels different.
“You may be right,” I murmur, almost to myself. “I’ve often felt the same way. I’m bound by my responsibilities to my realm, much like you are to your kingdom.” My eyes remain fixed on the lake, though my thoughts wander elsewhere. “It’s strange, isn’t it? How even the ones who seem to hold the most power can feel so powerless.”
Her gaze shifts toward me, and I feel the intensity of her stare. There’s a slight narrowing of her eyes, as if she’s weighing the gravity of what I’ve just said. “You, powerless?” she asks, incredulous. “I find that hard to believe. From what I’ve read, you have dominion over... well, everything. How could you ever feel trapped?”
A bitter chuckle escapes me, and I lean back on my hands, tilting my head slightly to the sky. The moon catches the curve of my horns, casting a familiar shadow. “It’s not the power itself,” I reply. “It’s the burden of it. The endless expectations, the rules, the... isolation.” I pause, feeling the weight of my own words settle over me. “People look at me and see a ruler, but rarely do they see beyond the role. To them, I’m not a person—I’m an entity.”
There’s a soft laugh from her, light yet tinged with a hint of sadness. The sound catches me off guard, and I turn to face her. “In that case,” she says, amusement lacing her voice, “I think we’re more alike than I thought. I understand exactly what you mean.” She looks out over the lake again, her posture relaxing. “For as long as I can remember, I’ve been ‘Princess Evangeline,’ the royal heir. But no one ever asks who I am beyond the title. It’s exhausting, playing a part all the time.”
Her words echo in my mind, the same exhaustion I’ve carried for centuries. I study her face—the vulnerability she hides so carefully beneath the veil of her title. There’s a connection between us, a thread woven through our shared isolation. It’s strange, this feeling of kinship, yet I can’t deny it.
“And who are you,” I ask softly, “beyond the title?”
Evangeline pauses, her gaze dropping to her hands, fingers tracing idle patterns in the grass. “That’s the problem,” she admits, her voice tinged with uncertainty. “I’m not sure I know. I’ve never had the chance to find out. My life has always been about meeting expectations, being what others need me to be.” She exhales slowly, the weight of her words hanging between us. “But being here, with you—it feels like I can just... be. Like I’m not bound by anything.”
Her honesty stirs something within me, something I haven’t felt in so long. I nod, understanding more than I care to. “I understand. For the longest time, I thought my realm was all I needed. But as the years went on, I started to realize that it’s not enough to simply exist in a role. There must be something more.”
Her eyes meet mine, softening with a quiet understanding. “It’s strange, isn’t it?” she murmurs. “How we can feel so trapped by the very things that define us?”
“Strange, yes,” I reply, my voice low and thoughtful. “But maybe that’s why we’re here—why we found each other tonight. Perhaps we’re meant to see that there’s more to life than the roles we’ve been given.”
She tilts her head, her eyes steady, as if considering my words deeply. “Maybe so,” she whispers. “Maybe this is the start of something... different. Something real.”
The silence that follows feels charged, heavy with unspoken possibilities. I find myself studying her in a way I hadn’t before—the curve of her cheek, the way her lashes cast delicate shadows in the moonlight. There’s a softness to her, a vulnerability that she tries to hide, yet it lingers beneath the surface. And in that vulnerability, I find a reflection of myself, of the yearning I’ve long suppressed. Not for power, not for control—but for connection.
Her voice breaks the silence, soft and curious. “Tell me, Lucien... If you could do anything, without the burden of your realm or your title, what would you do?”
The question lingers in the air, and I find myself pausing. I haven’t allowed myself to think about such things in centuries—dreams beyond the constraints of my existence feel almost foreign. My mind drifts over the endless years of responsibility, the constant vigilance.
“I think...” I begin, my voice slow, contemplative, “I would... want death.”
Her brow furrows slightly, surprise flickering across her features. I can sense the tension in the air shift, her curiosity now tinged with concern.
“Not in the way you might think,” I continue, sensing her unease. “I’ve lived so long that I’ve forgotten what it means to fear the end, to feel the weight of mortality. Everything has become... endless. There’s no urgency, no finality. I’ve watched life after life flicker out, but I’ve never experienced what they do—the fleeting nature of it all.”
I glance toward the horizon, the night sky stretching out endlessly above us. “If I could do anything, I think I’d want to understand what it feels like to truly have a limit. To know that my time is running out. To feel something as final as death.”
The words hang heavy between us. It’s the kind of truth I’ve never spoken aloud, not even to myself. But tonight, with her, it feels strangely freeing to admit.
Evangeline’s expression softens, her mischief gone, replaced by something more vulnerable. “I’ve never thought of immortality that way,” she whispers. “I always imagined it as freeing—limitless.”
I shake my head, a bittersweet smile forming on my lips. “Limitless... but also empty. There’s a certain beauty in knowing things will end. It gives them meaning.”
A soft smile spreads across her face, and there’s warmth in her eyes as she looks at me. “I think,” she says quietly. “I’d leave the palace, travel, meet people who don’t care about titles or royal bloodlines. I’d want to experience the world on my own terms, make my own choices for once.”
Our eyes lock on each other, and everything else just feels like it has faded away. We’re not ruler and royal, not devil and mortal—but simply two souls, longing for the same thing. Longing for freedom.
As the night progresses, the bond between us continues to grow. Our conversation flows effortlessly, weaving through topics of curiosity, freedom, and the deeper aspects of our existence. The connection we share in this moment feels both rare and precious, hinting at the potential for something more profound in the future. I know it’s wrong however, it feels right in this very moment.