“Ah, Master,” Ilmatar said, “sometimes I forget that you were slumbering for two centuries and therefore do not know everything. About seventy years ago, it was decided that the Legion’s officers should receive a percentage of any deals or contracts they procure.”

“And who ‘decided’ this? The officers themselves?”

Ilmatar nodded, then proceeded to launch into a long-winded explanation that I honestly only half-listened to, a justification for why the officers who arranged these kinds of business arrangements received a percentage. Apparently, it was to encourage ambition and entrepreneurship. Which seemed to me like weird things to promote in our military officers, but what did I know? Nymphyra wasn’t the only one who had cultural differences with the demons. I had a lot of those myself.

Hell, I thought. Is anyone here not corrupt?

“Right. I get it,” I said, because Ilmatar seemed inclined to keep explaining for as long as my face remained blank, which it probably would have stayed. I wanted to ask Ilmatar what it was, exactly, we were selling to Ophidium. What produce? But that felt dangerously close to knowledge I should have already possessed, and I was worried about asking him too directly. I would ask Mona later, but it seemed like she was missing a lot of information herself.

The military appeared to keep the priestesses in the dark, other than Phaedra who had girlbossed her way into being head of military research and development. Of course, servants like Ilmatar, even if he was the highest among them, were also not privy to much of the information I needed.

Meanwhile, the ones who did seem to know everything—Shatterbone, the other Generals, and perhaps Phaedra—were also the most dangerous to be around.

“Yes, so that’s it, essentially. If the contract with Ophidium ended, no more percentage for the General,” Ilmatar finished. “So he’ll be pleased that you decided to keep it relevant.”

“Well, shit.”

“Ah, yes. Shit, indeed, Master.”

“You’re being very forthright about this, Ilmatar.” Just yesterday, he’d seemed timid about sharing his opinion, worried I’d knife him and throw him down the chute. Now he was starting to seem a little more open. Maybe this passed for mild banter between demons, talking about the “entrepreneurship” of our fellows.

“Of course, Master,” Ilmatar said. “As you instructed, I am attempting to tell you all I can without worrying about how you will take the information. And besides, in this matter and all others, I am entirely on your side.”

“I appreciate your faith in me, Ilmatar,” I said, feeling a warmth in the tips of my ears, an embarrassment at lying to this big-horned demon who had been nothing but helpful. “Sadly, I was thinking that maybe we shouldn’t sell to Ophidium anymore. Surely we should be focused on our war at the moment, not on trade, unless I am mistaken, and we’re receiving something we need from Ophidium in exchange, not just money…”

“Ah,” Ilmatar said. “I support you, Dark Lord, but please be careful.”

“Careful?” Why did I have to be careful? I wondered. As Greg-Theryx, I could do anything I wanted, so far as he knew.

“This is a delicate topic, my Lord, so please know that I support you all the way. But, hypothetically, if something happened to you, let’s say you became indisposed, who would take your place? Who would be in charge afterward?”

I thought about it for a moment. A military coup? I did feel like I’d become the dictator of a country whose government was a mix between an organized crime syndicate and a cult. If I grew unpopular, I could see the military overthrowing me or, more likely, locking me in a room while they made all the decisions. “General Shatterbone,” I said, “obviously.”

Ilmatar nodded. “That’d be my guess. And he’s fucking nuts. No, thank you.”

“Meanwhile, Phaedra would become High Priestess.”

He nodded. “Probably. So you see, Master, I have no interest in undermining you. I would vastly prefer for you to succeed. And I hate interspecies marriage, as well. You have asked me to be honest, so I thought you should know that was also a factor. Monster-fucking is a slippery slope, Dark Lord, and is best avoided.”

“I, uhh…” Were we not monsters ourselves? My brain had short-circuited at the sudden turn our conversation had taken. We had swerved from helpful political analysis to Ilmatar’s bigotry rather quickly. I sighed. “I wasn’t trying to insult the Princess, Majordomo. It just seemed like a decision that required further thought, before jumping into bed, literally and figuratively, with Arachnia.”

Ilmatar began to laugh, and I stopped to glare at him. When he saw my look, he awkwardly stopped.

“What?” I asked. I felt I’d lost much of my gravitas the instant I’d admitted my “secret” to him. I guess the fact that he was now grating up aphrodisiacs to put on my food made me less intimidating.

“Ah,” he said. “Forgive me, Master. I was merely thinking how funny it would have been if her top half had been the spider.”

The mental image invaded my mind, strikingly vivid, and I placed my hands on my temples as I tried to scrub it away. “Not helping, Ilmatar.”

“Ah, I just wondered if that would be better or worse—”

“Worse, obviously!” I shouted. “Her face was beautiful. I’ll give her that. And being able to speak seems like an important thing for a Princess or Queen to be able to do. I suppose I was a little nervous she’d stab me in my sleep with those pointy legs of hers, especially if she ever found out we’d been selling produce to her enemies. She had an intensity about her.”

"Perfectly understandable, Master. I, too, am unnerved by powerful women.”

“That wasn’t—” I began before realizing it was pointless to argue. “You know what? You got me.”

As if on cue, I felt Mona’s presence rising towards us and breathed a sigh of relief that she might be able to save me from this. Mona entered the room without knocking, poking her head in and rolling her eyes when she saw Ilmatar standing there.

“Ah, you’re still here,” she said to him. “I was hoping to avoid you.”

“I assure you, High Priestess, I had the same idea,” he said. He gestured to the table, and I took my seat. “Lunch is served.”

I thought it was a little sad that Mona and Ilmatar possessed such mutual dislike. I wondered why—there must be a reason, for as best I could tell, neither could resist the opportunity to torment the other.

Mona leaned towards me and kissed me lightly on the cheek, whispering, “Hello, Master,” in my ear before sitting at the table. She eyed the food before her, clearly with an appetite. But she must have seen something in my expression, for she stopped with her spoon in the air, her eyes shifting back and forth between myself and Ilmatar.

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“Wait,” Mona said. “What did I miss?”

“Nothing,” we replied, in perfect sync, as I dug in. Today’s lunch was pasta in some kind of mushroom sauce, but I really had no idea. The murder root—a strange name considering its purpose—was crunchy. The absurdity must have been written on my face because Mona gave me a pointed look.

“I intended to tell you after he left,” I said, and her expression changed quite suddenly, her eyes flashing as she smirked at me.

“Is that so, Master? You were going to tell me…” Her eyes lightened, as they had when she had first arrived, and we had caught sight of one another. “Well, I guess I shall believe you, my Lord. There are many things that I also wish for Majordomo Lampshade not to hear.” She said the last part rather pointedly, and Ilmatar made sure to slam the door as he left, which surprised me. Not the noise itself, echoing through the massive room, but the fact he did so. Was that not a rude thing here? Had I lost so much authority with him?

Mona looked at me and seemed to read my expression. “It’s considered a courtesy to close a door loudly, as it announces to everyone that you have gone. It is a polite way of saying goodbye.”

“Polite?” I laughed. “Sure. Makes about as much sense as everything else around here.”

“You mentioned filling me in, Master.”

“You hate Ilmatar, don’t you?”

She rolled her eyes. “He’s just an incorrigible dick to me, so how could I not?”

“But he’s really nice to me,” I said dryly. “That’s what’s so sad about the whole situation. Though he has some strange beliefs I’m trying to look past on account of him being a demon.”

“Did he give you his demon supremacy spiel?” She laughed. “How gracious of you, Master. Of course, Ilmatar is nice to you. He doesn’t want you to toss him down the chute.”

“Oh!” Now was my chance. “Just to be clear, the chute is…?”

“You hadn’t noticed?” She gestured flippantly to the small metal receptacle on the wall, not so far from the bedroom door that led to the elevator. I raised an eyebrow. I had noticed but not thought much of it. Now, it seemed evident in its barbarism.

“So that’s what leads down to the hole in the dungeon…” I whispered. “Well, now it seems obvious. I suppose I was in denial of the fact that y’all just toss people directly into the Void.”

“Y’all? What is this dialect?”

Oh, so my translation between English and Demonic had some gaps. “Uh, never mind. I just meant, like, everyone. All of you. I don’t know how to refer to a group of demons.”

“Technically, any group of demons, no matter how small, can be called a legion, Master.” She frowned at me as if embarrassed I hadn’t known that. “But yes, we do throw people into the Void. At least, we did before you showed up.”

“Before I showed up? But not now?” That was a relief, at least.

“While you slumber in the Void, the three Generals vote on who should be tossed in the chute to feed you. But while you are here, since the chute concerns the manner of your feeding, you are the final arbiter of who does, or does not, go into it. So no one will toss anyone in unless you command it. I believe most of them assumed the paladin would be the first soul you’d cast down.”

I couldn’t help but notice she hadn’t mentioned any of this until I’d asked. “You didn’t want to tell me about this, did you?”

She looked at me, her mouth parted in surprise, and her cheeks blushed. “Are you saying I withheld information from you, Master? Because I can assure you that I would have told you any time you’d asked.”

I smiled and shook my head. “I’m not trying to start a fight. I wouldn’t have wanted to tell me about this either, not until I had to. This seems like more power than anyone should have. And a lot of suffering, for the ones cast down.” I couldn’t help but say the last two words at a whisper, as if to avoid reminding myself that it might one day happen to me.

“Their suffering is not permanent. It will end when you devour them, my Lord, to rejuvenate yourself between cycles. Supposedly.”

Ah, yes, that was the crux of it. After all, my protection and sacrifice did not come for free. Not by a long shot. Each time I was cast down I required a feast to restore myself. It was disturbing to think I was, supposedly, a monstrous god who culled unworthy souls for sustenance. But at least, for now, I hadn’t devoured anything.

I wondered if Old Greg was watching me, if he knew I had taken his place, and for a moment my body tensed and stilled. If I was being watched, I would probably never know. It was possible he was still down there, floating at the center of the black sun that hung beneath the tower. Had that really been him in my nightmare, speaking to me? Or was I going mad?

Of course, the other possibility, though I did not want to admit it, was that I was actually him. I was Greg, I told myself—but my memories of being alive, of New Mexico, were so sporadic, so hazy, that part of me wondered if they were even real. Perhaps I was Greg-Theryx and had done all those terrible things in the Book.

Perhaps I was a monster, too.

But I didn’t want to think about that. There was no way I could know, for now, what had happened to him or why I was here.

“Ilmatar thinks I’m having issues in bed,” I said, gesturing to the orange root sprinkled across my pasta, which I realized I’d barely touched. “He scared me at first. He told me he knew my secret.”

“That may be a good thing, Master. He has a reason for your behavior that makes sense to him now. So he need not look any further.”

“I agree. Would you like me to talk to Ilmatar? Ask him to be nice to you?”

“If you could threaten him for me, just a little, I would appreciate it,” Mona said with a smile.

“I’ll see what I can do.” I wasn’t going to threaten him, but I didn’t think I needed to. I hoped a gentle nudge would suffice. “Mona, what is produce, anyway? What are we even selling to the Ophidians? Would Nymphyra and the Arachnians be mad if she found out?”

“I think she’s already mad,” Mona said dryly. “I can see why produce would be confusing. You speak our tongue, yet do not understand our euphemisms. It’s shit, Master. Imp shit.”

Suddenly, Ilmatar’s earlier words made a lot more sense. He’d been telling me what it was, repeatedly. I just hadn’t known he’d been speaking literally. “But why would they want to buy that?”

“It’s incredibly rich fertilizer, for one,” Mona offered. “But they’re presumably more interested in the fact it’s highly explosive.”

Suddenly, everything came together. It all made sense. “Wait, does that mean Fitzpick was best imp because he’s…”

Mona looked at me as if in disbelief. “So you remember him, Master, but you couldn’t be fucked to read the entirety of your Book?” Her voice sounded aggrieved. “I wish you’d taken a little more interest in your scripture. And yes, it means exactly what you think.”

“Of course I remember him, how could I forget?” I said, laughing. But her eyes darkened, so I added, “I’d listen if you read me scripture.”

“I will,” she threatened. “So you’d better pay attention. If I need to beat you with the Book, I will.”

I looked at where the Book of Grievances was sitting at my desk.

“Don’t look at it so longingly,” Mona said, and I smiled, shaking my head.

“I wasn’t!”

“As for the Princess,” she said, “no wonder she was so insulted. She knew you weren’t interested because you did not ask to inspect her.”

“What was I even supposed to inspect?”

“It is common for any highborn demon to receive a viewing from their prospective bride. A viewing in the nude, Master. Nowadays, in some cases, the groom will disrobe similarly. This used to be done in front of the groom’s entire family, but as of the last few decades, it is considered more civilized to do this in a private room.”

“How very progressive.”

She raised an eyebrow. “I don’t know what that means.”

“So, I couldn’t help but notice the Princess assumed I would have wives, plural.”

Mona raised an eyebrow. “This was surprising to you? How do you think The Midnight Pact was formed?”

“I figured I would shake their hands, sign some papers, maybe?” I stopped talking because I didn’t want to sound like an idiot. More than I already did, I mean. I remembered seeing a bunch of politicians on TV once, standing around at a summit for NATO. I think I’d assumed it would be something like that, just with a bunch of monsters.

Obviously not.

Mona rolled her eyes. “The world you came from must be chaotic, Master. How could such an alliance be worth anything? A true partnership must be sealed with a marriage pact. A bride given as a token of their submission to you. And your offering to that bride, given in return. A boon for both parties.”

“My world used to do it like that, too. The marriage part, not the rest of it. But we mostly grew out of it.”

“‘Grew out of it?’ You imply you’re more civilized than us.”

Yes, I thought, but that wasn’t a topic I wanted to get into. I shrugged. “It doesn’t matter. You couldn’t have warned me about this?”

“I would have, but I didn’t think…” She sighed. “I didn’t know that she intended to propose. Not so soon. I thought she would suggest she stay at the tower as a guest while the details of the peace accord were ironed out. In our records, that is how it mostly happened in the past. A companion first, then a bride.”

“Well, so much for that,” I said. “It’s funny to think I might have salvaged this if only I’d asked the Spider-Princess to strip naked for me.”

If it had stopped a war, I would have done it in an instant. But even if it hadn’t, I had to confess I was curious what had been under her dress.

Sadly, now I would never know.