The crowd of well-dressed demons sat in awed silence in front of me, each of them leaning forward in anticipation on their respective seats. Most were inhabitants of the castle, each adorned in their best clothes for this rare ceremony. I sat in front of them all on a throne made specifically for me, wrought in twisted iron and tipped with gold, cushioned with lush velvet seating. The iron was cold beneath my grip, my knuckles white with how tight I squeezed the metal. Being in front of crowds was never my thing, but these were my people. I vowed I would always do what was right for them.

I glanced down at my feet. Curled up there was the arctic fox that had come to my aid when I’d been imprisoned by Zaavi. She had shown up out of nowhere on my journey back to the demon realm and refused to leave my side ever since, and I’d promptly named her Oracle, as it seemed she was omniscient. Over the last few months that I’d been in the demon realm with her, she somehow instinctively knew what I needed from her, whether it was personal space or companionship. I’d taken Oracle back with me to the castle; the sweet thing had wiggled its way into my life as if she were meant to be there. And maybe she was. She warmed my toes at the moment, quietly snoring during the ceremony. I felt grateful for the reassurance that she provided, the sense of comfort.

Hazuzu stood in front of me, a kind smile on his face and his hands full with an elaborately embroidered pillow. On top of it was a small circle of delicately twisted metal, shining bright in the torchlight that shone in the throne room. I watched as he approached me, the announcements all complete, the oaths spoken. All that remained now was for Hazuzu to crown me, signifying me his official heir apparent. Once that metal touched my head, resting its weight upon me, I would have the future of the demon race in my hands. Someday, at least.

Hazuzu lifted the crown delicately off of the pillow, his large clawed hands somehow able to maneuver with a profound deftness. I watched the crown’s path through the air, supported by his touch, as it traveled towards my head. I forced myself not to shrink away from it, to embrace it and to allow its weight to be supported. I dipped my head forward to make it easier for Hazuzu to reach, although he could have reached the top of my head even while sitting down, so tall he was.

The metal slid over my hair, pressing down the strands of my bangs, stopping just above my eyebrows at a comfortable level. It was heavy, but not too much so. It was a weight and a purpose I could bear and wear with pride. I lifted my chin to watch my new subjects, the demons below that were collectively a bubble filled with excitement on the verge of bursting. My eyes scanned the unique and colorful crowd, each individual more distinctive and vibrant than the last. I nodded at them, a slight, respectful nod, acknowledging silently that the official business was concluded.

The crowd went wild. Instantly, the room filled with palpable joy, cheers, and movement. Guests stood and helped servants rearrange the chairs to make space for a makeshift dance floor, while other servants lifted a curtain that had secluded the back corner revealing a table filled with food. Apparently, no coronation is complete without a feast and drunkenness. The other corner had another curtain concealing it, and when it was lifted, several kegs of alcohol were revealed with great care, the servants hoisting the curtain and readying the liquor almost lovingly, all to an adoring crowd. I guess demons and humans were similar in that way. A few demons whipped instruments out of seemingly nowhere and collected at one end of the hall; a few moments of tuning and coordination later, they were playing a happy tune.

I watched the merriment commence from my new royal perch, taking in all the sights, sounds, and smells of the party. People were dancing, drinks were already in hand, and the feast had already been sampled, though most were jumping right into the alcohol instead. A servant approached the thrones with a small plate with wine glasses and handed one to me. I took it gratefully; crowds and parties weren’t usually my thing. I preferred to watch and enjoy the carousing from afar instead of taking part. I settled back into my throne, smiling and sipping the sweet wine. Alathor, the transparent bureaucrat who had become like a second shadow to me since I’d arrived, was dancing with an awkward yet endearing air, spinning around a familiar pink face. Ah, the healer demon, the one who had helped Tom when we’d first found hell, was twirling around with him. It was impossible to tell if she was blushing, but she looked enchanted. I lifted my glass an inch in the air to them, silently congratulating them. I took another sip, the alcohol leaving a sharp taste in my mouth, the sweet red grape flavor coating my tongue.

At the edge of the crowd, Selissa and her husband danced in romantic circles, completely ignoring the pace of the music and instead favoring a waltz that apparently played in their minds alone. Their son wasn’t far off; Matthias was only a few dancers away, but instead of twirling in sweet, dreamy circles, he was doing his own thing and dancing with the sort of passion you only see in extroverted drunkards. His arms were waving and punching in the air to a rhythm that just missed the beat of the music. I grinned at the sight; I would never have the audacity to move like that in a public setting, and while I admired him for his courage to do so, it was also embarrassing in a secondhand way. I could only watch for so long before I felt too uncomfortable seeing him make a fool of himself on purpose.

It was a sweet sort of melancholy to see how that family unit was reconnected, rebuilt, finally whole, and to know that it was without me. I had grown up thinking my place was to be Selissa’s daughter, her heir, the next ruler of the continent. But instead, I’d found my true role, here with my demons. Once, I would’ve been upset to realize that I had no place with Selissa, that I never really had belonged there. But now, it felt right to be in this throne instead of on the floor next to them. It wasn’t the comfort of the life I’d always known, but it was the one I was meant to be in. I was no longer displaced and lost, stowed away to be kept safe and forgotten, but instead I was celebrated for my accomplishments present and future. I was where I supposed to be now, and that felt pretty fucking good.

Hazuzu sat in the throne next to me, watching the party go on with a happy, sharp-toothed smile and bouncing toes, obviously eager to join in with the dancing but too official to do much more than observe. I watched him through the corner of my eye, remembering what I’d learned about his past, and thinking about what I’d been advised to do. Hazuzu had his own methods for procuring the throne, and later, procuring peace. He’d created the Hunter’s Guild to destroy his nemesis Zaavi and snatch the throne out from under Charybdis, and then lived long enough to see the consequences of his actions. He’d made a deal and alliance with the humans, with the intention of keeping me safe and alive, but ultimately giving me away. If he hadn’t backhandedly gotten rid of his rivals all those years ago, would he have needed to make the deal with Selissa? There was no way to know how things might have gone if he’d chosen differently. I didn’t even know if I would’ve done things differently, myself.

Ultimately, his decisions were for peace and minimal bloodshed. His idea to imprison Zaavi was an improvement upon sending an assassin to stab him in the back, but it still felt wrong. I didn’t like it regardless. I furrowed my brows at the memories of recent events, thinking about what had happened. Would I really have done so much better?

Would Charybdis have done much better? I hated how things happened to her, how Hazuzu let things happen to her like that. I didn’t know exactly how it went down between them, but surely he hadn’t been blind to the injustices she’d suffered. It wasn’t illegal in demon culture, even at the time as far as I knew, for a woman to inherit the throne. It just seemed to me that her father, King Mynsia, had been a massive misogynistic asshole and didn’t want her to rule after him. Unfortunately, that also meant that Hazuzu largely benefited from his privilege and has been ruling ever since, while Charybdis hid herself away in the human realm, trying her best to escape the chains that had been attached to her since birth.

This novel's true home is a different platform. Support the author by finding it there.

I wanted to do better for her. I thought of her right now, sitting on the ocean floor, surrounded by the towering vortex above and around her, sitting in the eye of the storm I’d created as her prison. Instantly, I felt shame, and looked down at my feet. I gulped another drink of the wine, tasting sour in my mouth. I would do better for her. She deserved better. And someday, when I’d accomplished enough to make a difference, right the wrongs she’d suffered, I’d let her out to see them. I vowed it.

An approach of a dark figure interrupted my deep thoughts, startling me enough to spill my wine. The droplets splattered on my dress, a black silk extravaganza, decorated with the Runia crest as typical of ceremonial garb. My crown slipped down my ears a little, the left side now significantly further down than the right. Sheepishly I corrected it, looking up to see who had so rudely surprised me.

It was Zaavi. He looked down at me, a sly smile on his face, his green eyes flickering in the torchlight with mischief, his black hair slicked back expertly. He extended his hands towards me, ever the gentleman. He had been a guest of the court since his release and participation in the imprisonment of my mother as a gesture of goodwill. I personally thought Hazuzu was just trying to cover his ass and make nice, but it made sense to try and mend things. I suppose this was one way to do it. I peered down at his hand that pointed to me and debated whether I should take it.

“May I have this dance?” he said with a raised eyebrow, his grin steadily growing.

I couldn’t help but smile back. His whole demeanor was infectious. “If you insist,” I said. I took his hand and he helped me to stand as I delicately navigated around the flowy fabric I had draped around me. While growing up as a princess I was used to finer wear, but something about traditional demonic garb had me stumbling. Perhaps it had something to do with the stiffness of the clothing and the entirely excessive amount of fabric. The sleeves alone probably weighed several pounds.

The movement was a blur, and suddenly we were on the dance floor. The tune had changed from the merry jig to one of a somber feel, and the dancers had already accustomed themselves to the slower tempo. Most had paired off and were swaying, much like Selissa and her consort had been much earlier. I looked around to notice that most everyone else seemed to be couples. Suddenly, I felt self-conscious. What was going on here?

“You’re tense,” Zaavi commented, still looking straight ahead. As he was much taller than me, it meant he was avoiding my gaze entirely.

“Uh, sure,” I said. “This is weird.”

“Only if you make it that way,” he reasoned, still looking forward. We swayed to the music, his arms supporting me in a perfect ballroom posture.

“It’s probably because you were trying to kill me a few months ago,” I pointed out helpfully. “I hear that’s frowned upon when trying to form relationships.”

“Shit, you think that has something to do with it?” he said, tilting his head down to watch me with false shock. “And here I thought I was making some headway.”

I examined his face carefully. I hadn’t had much interaction with him since everything had happened, even though he’d been a relatively permanent piece here at Hazuzu’s court. I’d just been so busy catching up, we hadn’t had a chance to speak hardly at all. Somehow it didn’t feel like he was my enemy, even though I felt wary about him. He did kidnap me, after all. I remembered my brief imprisonment in his care, my cheeks reddening. How odd to be dancing with him now.

“I realize I’ve been pardoned by the King,” Zaavi started conversationally, “but there’s much more to what I want.”

That’s what it was. He didn’t want to dance with me because he enjoyed my company or was intrigued with me. It was because he wanted something. I let out a long sigh of disappointment, surprising myself. Why the fuck would I care what he wanted from me?

“What is you want?”

He raised his eyebrows, maybe surprised to be spoken to so bluntly. Most people at court simply hint at what they want, manipulating you to act as though it was your idea to give them what they so deeply craved. I didn’t have the patience for those kinds of games. I was much more likely to either ignore you entirely. But this would work too.

“Alright. Let’s be candid and open with each other, then. No reason not to,” he said. “You know you have a great magical potential. Anyone could see it. But that means you need a great teacher, one who understands your struggle.”

I raised an eyebrow at his statements.

“I could be that teacher,” he said, smiling a winning grin that surely worked on all the ladies. All the ladies except me.

I narrowed my eyes, my lips turning into a thin line of frustration. “And what do you want in return?”

His smile grew wider. “Name me the official Court Sorcerer, and I’ll teach you everything you ever wanted to know.”

I didn’t answer, instead thinking on his offer. Hazuzu had a few magical talents, but even by his own words, he wasn’t very powerful. My mother would probably have been the best teacher for me, but due to my own actions, I’d sealed her away indefinitely. Zaavi was the most powerful sorcerer on the continent, human or demon, to anyone’s knowledge. My recent discovery of my magic was terrifying and dangerous; I knew I was a ticking bomb threatening to anyone in my general vicinity, including myself. Sometimes I could feel the pure power welling within me, beating against my skin as if it were trying to escape, feeling at the cracks of my willpower searching for a weak spot. I knew it was something I needed to control.

Retroactively, I’d realized that most of the things that had saved my life had been inadvertent use of magic. When Tom and I had escaped the mob, I’d summoned bears to attack them. When Zaavi threatened me, all the local creatures came to my defense, including Oracle. I shot a glance back up to the throne where I’d left her; she was perched on my seat with watchful eyes. Those had all happened on accident, subconscious. Then when I’d tried to really use magic, to form it into a weapon, I’d created a prison of eternity inside of the eye of a vortex at the bottom of the ocean and tossed my mother into it. I needed some sort of control.

But I’d be damned if I admitted that to his smug looking face. “I’ll consider your offer,” I said diplomatically.

He nodded as if he already knew what my answer would be. Bastard.

The music ended abruptly, the last, soft note startling me from my thoughts. Zaavi dropped my hands, bowed deeply, and then turned around swiftly, gone within an instant. I would have to watch him; he still presented many enigmas I had yet to solve. I sighed, the weight of all of my responsibilities hitting me at once. I had so much at stake, so much was my obligation. How would I ever do it right?

Someone bumped into me, a warm happy mess of limbs and rumpled hair. I stumbled, and the hand righted me before I fell. I brushed off the dirt habitually before looking up.

“Oh hell I am so sorry, let me – oh Callie, it’s you!”

I couldn’t help but smile back at a very, very drunk Tom. “It’s me,” I said, holding up my hands in amusement. “You are inebriated.”

“You are… correct, I think. You mean drunk, right?” He leaned closer to my face with squinted eyes and swayed, trying to get a better look at me. “And… you’re very sober. This is your party, you should drink!”

I laughed. “You’d think. But now I’m the princess, I have a certain reputation to…build, I suppose. Duties to manage. A country to run, in the future.”

“Responsibilities gravitate to the one who can shoulder them,” Tom said without missing a beat.

I blinked heavily. He swayed drunkenly, staring at me and blinking slowly. “Wow, that was… really insightful,” I said, thoroughly surprised. “Who said that to you?”

He burped in response.

“Right. Thanks,” I said, shaking my head, but unable to hide the smile that grew on my lips.

He held out a mug that matched his own, spilling some of the foam over the side as he presented it to me. “Was gonna bring you this earlier. Want it?”

I took it, watching the foam settle just barely. He lifted his mug above his head in my direction, silently asking me to toast with him.

“Cheers to the future,” he said, his voice infinitely hopeful, filled with joy and the promise of a thousand peals of laughter.

“Cheers to the future.”

Our mugs smashed together, raining ale down on our heads as we ushered in whatever came next.