Raelyn Reed gives a knowing smile at her ‘mother-in-law,’ then she turns to give Duke Ashton Ambrose an elegant curtsey.

Greetings, Duke Ambrose. I trust you have been well since we last met. Or would you allow me the privilege of addressing you as grandfather?

I have a granddaughter?! I have a granddaughter!

Duke Ambrose leaps up in joy.

Nina, Judge, everybody, did you hear that?! I have a granddaughter! Me! I have a granddaughter! Today I found out that my daughter lives, then I have a grandson, and now I have a granddaughter! Julius, come here, my boy. You’ve made your grandpappy proud!

Duke Ambrose slaps Knight Julius in the back.

B-but, grandfather … Raelyn and I are merely engaged, and—

Then we need to get you two married as soon as possible! We need to make preparations: guests, ceremonies, tailors, priests, wedding bells—wedding cakes!—the biggest cake this kingdom has ever seen. Everyone will be invited. There’ll be music, wine, fireworks—parties in every town!

That sounds absolutely wonderful, grandfather!—Raelyn says.

And for you, my dear granddaughter, the finest bridal gown money can buy. Woven from the finest silk, adorned with precious jewels, and encrusted with diamonds on every inch. The whole world will see you standing beautifully beside Julius. And you’ll be wed by a highpriest—no, an archbishop—no, what am I saying? Amelia is a living saint—she can wed the two of you! What say we cancel this tiresome hearing and commence the wedding preparations at once!

A marvelous idea, grandfather!

Grandfather, don’t you think you’re moving a bit too quickly? And … and I’m sure Mama isn’t the type to marry people willy-nilly.

Sure, I’m game.

Wait, what?! Even you, Mama?

Anything to end this stupid hearing. I should’ve been dead hours ago, if it weren’t for ‘him’ pulling the rug from under me.

The Devil glares at the old judge, who is snacking on popcorn as he watches the Ambrose family drama unfold.

Tell you what, I’ll marry you right now if you promise to execute me immediately afterward.

No way! Are you still on that, Mama?

Yes, Amelia, why do you keep insisting on ending your life? If there’s something wrong, you can always talk to me. Your father will always be here for you. So whatever the trouble may be, no matter how difficult, we’ll work through it together—as a family!

The Devil leans back on the chair and grips her forehead.

You don’t get it. None of you morons get it. And the moment you do … it’ll be too late … for all of us.

Back inside the memory, the Devil observes Squire Raelyn picking on young Julius.

Raelyn is a head taller than Julius. Her limbs are long and her hands and feet are big from handling weapons. Which makes the already small Julius look frail in comparison. One wonders how he manages to become a page at all.

Well, I could read and write. That puts me at the top of the candidate lists. And admittedly, the mountain of gold coins Mama left me with didn’t hurt.

Wow, privilege much?

Stolen from Royal Road, this story should be reported if encountered on Amazon.

Who said that?!

Not me.

Nope.

Don’t look at me, sir knight. I’m trying to focus on the screen. It would be much easier if you people learn to shut the fuck up in court, you privilege prick.

It is you!

Shhh!

The Devil is still observing young Julius and Raelyn, when suddenly a loud explosion, followed by a pig-like scream, coming from the main building draws everyone’s attention.

The knights rush to the chaos, and the squires and pages are ordered to get back to their quarters.

“Guess that’s my cue,” the Devil says.

The Devil changes back to Eleanor and slips back into her room.

There are heavy, repeated knocks on her door, so she casually waves to unlock it. Her two Palatine guards rush in, and they relax once they see her reading a book on the bed.

The explosion in Magistrate Lorenzo’s room causes a small fire that destroys several expensive pieces of art, and there is a rotten stench that spreads throughout the main building. Magistrate Lorenzo, who is busy shitting his pants when the fire starts, chokes on the fumes and the stench. When the guards rush in to save him, he is alternating between having a coughing fit and squealing his heart out.

Lorenzo rants incoherently as he is being carried out by the knights. His face is red as a tomato, and the people are pinching their noses as he passes.

The putrid stench from the Devil’s stink bomb is no joke. It engulfs the entire west wing and makes several poor sods hurl out their lunch. Even when the mages dissipate the stench with magic, the putrid smell still lingers on every wall and every piece of furniture.

The smell only magically disappears one day, when Page Julius is tasked to clean the place.

As for Magistrate Lorenzo, he is taken to the infirmary, where he keeps gagging and complaining about not being able to breathe. The old man is absolutely furious and demands the knights to hunt down the culprit.

“What do you mean there’s no one that looks like that among the servants?!” He points at the portrait sketch of the Devil in her servant form. “That vermin was standing arrogantly in my room, mocking me before this all went down! I don’t care if you imbeciles have to turn over every brick in this castle, find him and bring him to me!”

The Palatines bow at their command and leave the room. They cast silent disdain at the old man before closing the door.

Alone in the infirmary, Lorenzo coughing resumes.

“Kaff! Kaff! Kaff! Doctor! Mage! Attend to me at once, you dimwit buffoons—I can’t breathe! God, the smell! Kaff! Kaff! Get a doctor in here right now or I’ll execute you for conspiracy, damn fools! Do you want to kill me?!”

“Kill you? Oh, I don’t want to kill you. Where’s the fun in that?”

“Who said that?!” Lorenzo looks wide-eyed around the empty room. “Who’s there?! Show yourself!”

“Where are you looking? I’m right here.” The voice comes from the foot of the bed.

Magistrate Lorenzo looks down and sees a familiar face standing there, smiling.

“You! It’s you—assassin! Guards, get in here! Guards!”

“Shush, don’t strain your neck, old man. You’ll damage that beautiful vocal cord of yours.”

“Damn, vermin! How dare you show yourself before me?! I’ll have you executed for what you’ve done—I’ll have you tortured! Have them torn you from limb to limb—slice your flesh piece by piece and feed you to the dogs—cut out your tongue and pour boiling metal down your throat!

“Say more.” The Devil grins ear to ear. His lips stretch open like a snake, showing far too many teeth. “Go on, you old tease, tell me what you’ll do to me next.” He licks his lips with a serpent-like tongue.

“You … You … What are you?!” Lorenzo’s face turns white.

“Who me? I’m nobody. Definitely not someone worth remembering … even if you were the one who happened to send me to the gallows … isn’t that right, magistrate? Heh! But, oh, I remember you well, magistrate. I remember how you sent me, my family, my people to our shallow graves—Hehehe—how you sign our death warrant so callously. Oh, I remember you well, Magistrate Lorenzo.”

“W-what are … what are …”

The Devil’s face begins to deform, melting and twisting inhumanly, his eyes sunken, his jaw hung loose, barely attached to the rest of his head, his skin cracks and puss drips down his rotten flesh.

Magistrate Lorenzo is shaking. Icy fear grips his being, and his swollen tongue prevents him from speaking.

“I remember you well, magistrate. And though you may not remember me, know this: the dead never forgets … and we never forgive. Hahaha! Hahahahaha!”

The sound of the old magistrate’s long shriek makes guards burst through the door. But by the time they arrive, the Devil is already gone.