Willow's Point of View

Chapter 5

I'd brought the demon lord to Mochi's Snack Shack while he gathered his thoughts, but the longer we sat here, the more my mind raced. He was the very first person to read my book and he was like an emotionless stone! I had no idea what he was thinking. Did he hate it? Did he love it?

Nothing. He just kept flipping through my manuscript, scribbling notes on another piece of paper, and sometimes looking at the message from the story gods.

Mochi slid another mug of hot cocoa across the counter to me. I caught it and took a long drink, downing the warm cocoa like it was nectar from the gods. It warmed me up and gave me a nice sugar rush as I licked whipped cream off my lip. Mochi had even added marshmallows to this one, upping the sugar content with each mug he'd given me.

"Another please," I said, taking a deep breath to calm my nerves. I wished the demon lord would just say something. Anything. "With cookies too maybe?"

A soft furry paw patted my arm as if the red panda was consoling me. His fluffy tail swayed behind him as he chirped something incompressible at me.

The demon lord smirked. "He's cutting you off."

"What?" I asked, glancing at the three empty mugs next to me. Maybe I had had a bit too much. "But it's just cocoa! It's not like I'm drinking dragon's breath ale or something."

Plus, it was the only thing distracting me from the demon lord's very slow note-taking. I just wanted to know what he thought already. Was that really so hard? I sighed, lying my head down on the wooden counter as I traced a tiny scorch mark the dragons must have left behind. It was sweet how they all worked together to make this for Mochi.

The red panda titled his head as if he was debating something, then his ears twitched as one more mug of cocoa appeared in his paws. This one had whipped cream, marshmallows, chocolate shavings, and mini cookies in it too.

"Thank the gods," I murmured, then winced. "I mean, thank the pandas!"

Mochi's chatter almost sounded like a laugh as he pawed my hand one more time. I scratched behind his ears, my fingers lost in the soft fur of his coat. He was one of my favorite story spirits, so adorable and always watching out for everyone. I just wished I could understand him like the other story spirits could.

He leaned into my hand, eyes closed in bliss. If a good scratch was all he wanted in return for the many, many cocoas and good company, I'd gladly oblige.

Mochi chirped and moved away as he busied himself with setting up snacks for the lunch rush later. Which meant we were running out of time.

"Okay, give it to me straight," I said, steeling myself for the demon lord's response. "You hated it, right? That's why you're taking so long to answer?"

He paused, actually paused, and the whole world felt like it was crashing down on my shoulders. My pulse raced as I rubbed my sweaty palms on my pants. Maybe drinking that much hot cocoa wasn't the best idea. I was burning up here.

"I liked it," he finally admitted. "It's got a lot of potential."

Potential? Having potential was what people said about houses that were falling apart, but could be nice if they put years worth of work into it.

I downed more of the cocoa. "So you didn't love it, huh?"

"What, no, I said I liked it." He frowned at me. "You've got a bit of, well, you're covered in whipped cream."

My face warmed as I wiped the cream off my lip, swallowing hard as I waited for him to say more.

"You've got a unique voice," he said, glancing at his notes to reference a few things, but my mind was already racing.

Unique voice usually meant it was super weird and not something a person would usually read. The book was about a baker who woke up in a dungeon with no memory of who she was or how she'd gotten there, but people assumed she'd start fighting like everyone else does in a dungeon. I decided to have her open a cafe instead.

Maybe that had been a terrible idea and this story really didn't have a chance.

I should just forget about it and move on. Grandpa would be proud that I'd given writing a try finally and that was all that mattered...right?

The demon lord sighed. "Why does it seem like everything I say is sending you into some kind of depressed cocoa binge? You wanted the truth, but you're barely listening."

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"Sorry," I said, straightening up. "Go on."

"Since you seem to want the bad news first, here it is: your characters are hard to identify with." He paused, as if waiting for me to freak out again, before continuing. "The plot is really good and I love the worldbuilding, but it's missing the emotions I'd expect from a good romance. They get together too easily and there's no heat or passion. They could almost be just friends."

If he didn't like the romance in a literal romance novel, then that meant the book was terrible. Who cared about the plot or the worldbuilding if the romance was bad?

"Wait," I said, frowning, "does that mean you actually read romance novels?"

He shrugged, taking a small sip of the cocoa Mochi had given him a half hour ago. "A few. There was only so much to do in an empty library for months."

The image of him reading fluffy romances hidden away in his corner of the library made me laugh. It felt good to laugh and forget about my own book for a moment.

"So what kind do you like?" I asked, leaning on my elbows. "Sweet romances with lots of fluff or dark romances where the villain gets the girl?"

His eyes widened. "There are romances about villains?"

"So so many," I said with a grin. "Actually, you're kind of like some of them. A shadow daddy in the flesh."

He choked on his cocoa, sputtering. "What in the nine realms is a shadow daddy?"

The look on his face was priceless, like I was suddenly speaking another language. I scooted closer, as if I was telling him some big secret.

"Well, it's basically a guy who's dark and mysterious, who has control over shadows, of course," I said, nodding at the shadows suddenly flitting around the demon lord. "Usually he's morally gray or a straight up villain, has touch her and you die vibes, and is extremely sexy."

A tiny blush swept across the demon lord's face. "And you think I'm one of these...shadow daddies?"

I couldn't help but laugh at the awkward way he said it, like the words were something completely ridiculous.

"Definitely, you're the biggest shadow daddy I've ever met."

He drank his cocoa slowly, avoiding eye contact, until eventually he mumbled, "thank you."

My stomach fluttered. That sincerity of his always caught me off guard.

"Anytime," I said, downing the rest of my cocoa in one big gulp. "Now, back to my book. Thanks for reading it, but I think I've got the picture."

I reached for it, but he pulled it back, shaking his head.

"I don't think you understand anything," he said. "I liked your story. Truly."

"You were supposed to be honest, remember? The whole you're not my friend or my family thing?"

"You're not listening," he muttered. "I said I like your book. It needs some work, sure, but the bones are good. You just need to stop holding back and let your emotions flow."

I blinked at him, staring at his ashen gray skin and his dark eyes. He was from a book, so he should know what made a story good. I'd let him read it for a reason, so if I was just going to ignore everything he said, what was the point?

"So you, you actually liked it?" I whispered. "You're not just saying that to make me feel better?"

He raised an eyebrow, giving me his trusty are-you-an-idiot look. "I said I liked it. Honestly, I liked it so much I was going to ask you to write the last book in my series too, but if this is how you respond to compliments maybe I shouldn't."

"Wait, what?" I shook my head, clenching my empty cocoa mug tight. "Do you realize how famous your series is? Everyone's been waiting for that final book for years, there's no way a no-name like me could do it justice."

"There's a contest going on right now," he said, staring blankly at me, "anyone can join. Even no-names like you."

"But, what if I messed it up?" I asked, glancing away from him. "What if I ruined your ending?"

He sighed. "I'm worried that's what everyone else is going to do. All anyone's talked about is the big battle between me and the hero. They assume I'm going to get killed off so the hero can be victorious."

Sadness tinged his words, real enough that I caught myself looking at him again. Worry lines creased his forehead and his lips were tight. Now that I'd met him, gotten to know him a bit, that kind of ending just didn't feel right for his story.

"So you want me to write something else?" I asked.

"Yes, something better. Something only a writer with a unique voice like you could pull off."

Suddenly, the word unique sounded like high praise instead of the insult I'd thought it was earlier. He'd put a lot of thought into this and was trusting me to give him the kind of ending he deserved, instead of just letting the hero defeat him in the classic good vs evil showdown.

But was I good enough to do that? What if I let him down?

"I don't think–,"

His shoulders slumped. "You're too afraid to write my last book, aren't you? Fine. I'll find somebody else."

The demon lord stood up and started walking away, taking the best opportunity I might ever get for my writing with him. I grabbed his arm, yanking him back to his seat.

"Hang on, I didn't say that." I gripped his arm tight, staring into those dark, almost purple, eyes of his. I wasn't afraid of anything, especially not a book. "I'll write your ending, okay, so don't you dare ask anyone else."

A sly grin tugged at his lips. "Good. We'll start tomorrow then."

Wait. Had he just goaded me into saying yes? What if I did a terrible job and humiliated myself? And what about the apothecary shop? I'd already taken so much time away from it for the Tales and Tomes Festival and now we had to prepare for winter. I didn't have time for this.

I opened my mouth to say so, but he just patted my hand and then gave me a contest flyer he'd been hiding along with my manuscript and his carefully written thoughts on my story.

"I really did enjoy your story," he said, "and I wouldn't have asked you to write mine if I didn't believe in your skills."

His confident gaze stilled my panic for a moment. He not only liked my story, but wanted me to write his too. That thought was baffling, but also felt kind of nice. If the demon lord believed I could do this, then maybe I should have a little confidence in myself too.

It was only one book. How hard could it be to write?