It was nighttime. Throughout the day, the maids had treated him well, giving him a bath, dressing him, and showing him most of the mansion. Though he appreciated the kindness, being a prisoner wasn't part of his plans, whether it was under a benevolent aristocrat or a slaver. Plus, he couldn't forgive him for what he had done in the past. He decided it was time to bid farewell.

However, he had considered the idea of escaping once he had gained everyone's trust. Yet, after speaking with him, the rage he had managed to forget while focusing on survival came back strong. He didn't wish to stay a second longer in the same house as him. Furthermore, after inspecting the mansion, he discovered numerous vulnerabilities and didn't think twice.

He rose from the bed and took one of the sheets, spreading it over the huge mattress. He organized some clothing items and closed the sheet, turning it into a sort of bag. He approached the window of his room to check if it was open.

"Great, still closed," he exclaimed disappointedly in a hushed tone.

Finally, he left the luxurious room. Luckily, the wooden door wasn't locked, so he opened it as slowly as possible. Upon stepping into the hallway, he tiptoed to avoid making noise and stopped, carefully observing his surroundings. If there was one thing he had learned over hundreds of years, it was how to go unnoticed.

With the bag full of clothes hanging from his back, held by his right hand, Sargonas turned his head, attentive to any sound, searching for signs of anyone awake. Not finding or hearing anyone, he headed towards the east door at the end of the upper-left hallway that led to the balcony, overlooking the mansion's extensive garden. This door was to the right of his room.

Once at the door, he tried to turn the circular doorknob, but it didn't yield as easily as his room's. With some disappointment, and anticipating this, he headed towards the other two doors that led to the balcony in the upper-left hallway.

The mansion was divided into three wings on the second floor: left, central, and right, each subdivided into upper and lower left and right hallways, according to the wing. In contrast, the central wing constituted the junction of the two wings on the upper floor, while on the ground floor, it corresponded to the mansion's main entrance, that is, the grand hall he had seen upon entering the house a couple of hours ago.

Sargonas headed to the north balcony of the upper-left hallway, located to the left of his room, but it remained closed, as did the east door. However, there was still a balcony on the west side, near the bathroom. Without wasting time, he slid silently towards it.

"It's closed," he muttered angrily.

Although he still had the two balconies on the lower hallway, he doubted either would be open. The maids were quite diligent; he had noticed their thoroughness when they had bathed and dressed him. Despite this, the mere possibility filled him with determination.

He descended the longest hallway, which connected the upper and lower hallways, until reaching the southern balcony, which became his only reference amid the darkness. He was pleasantly surprised by how well-lit the hallways were thanks to the arrangement of the balconies.

"This one's closed too," he grumbled as he forcefully turned the round knob. He headed towards the last of the balconies, located to the west of the lower hallway, trying to turn it with his fingers, but it was also closed. "Damn!" he covered his mouth instantly, remembering that next to him was a room occupied by one of the mansion's maids.

He considered the idea of breaking the window to escape through it, but the possibility of cutting himself on the glass and the fall made him back away. Plus, the noise it would generate would alert everyone in the mansion, leaving him exposed to being captured immediately and without hope of a future escape; at best, he would be closely monitored and, at worst, locked up.

Realizing that his only alternative was to descend the spiral staircase to the ground floor, he began to feel worried, his hands wouldn't stop sweating, and he couldn't stop thinking about the worst-case scenarios. However, determined to escape, he approached the staircase at the end of the lower hallway on the east side.

Upon reaching the central wing, he clung to the railing, grateful for the illumination of the two balconies that marked his path. He moved following the circumference of the handrail until finally reaching the spiral staircase. He didn't waste time and started descending.

This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

The first thing he noticed was that the hall was immersed in almost complete darkness, although the faint moonlight coming through the large glass door to the garden and the multiple windows that led to the dining room managed to alleviate the darkness a bit, enough to not stumble over the mansion's luxurious furniture. Still, not everything was shrouded in shadows; a light filtered from beneath one of the doors in the hall.

"Someone's awake in the library," he muttered, terrified.

On the ground floor of the right wing was an extensive library and Henry's private study, a place he hadn't explored, as he was denied access. However, upon fully descending the stairs and checking for noises or the presence of maids in sight, he noticed a light coming from the library. He assumed it was Henry, so he directed his steps towards the left wing, where the dining room, kitchen, and food storage were located.

The ground floor's floor was colder than the wooden one upstairs, a detail he regretted as he walked barefoot to minimize noise, keeping his shoes stored inside the bag.

Sargonas had no idea it was marble, a material that retained the cold, more intended for elegance than walking barefoot. Moreover, on cold nights, the white floor condensed, covering itself with a thin layer of water that made it slippery for bare feet, something he noticed as soon as he started walking.

Before reaching the dining room, the marble floor played a trick on him. He took a misstep and slipped as if he had stepped on a banana peel. With the slip, he fell to the ground and hit his head, instantly becoming unconscious from the impact.

Upon regaining consciousness, he found himself lying in a room full of books, the library. Alarmed, he tried to sit up, but a delicate hand rested on his forehead. He felt something soft under his head, like a pillow, but firmer.

"That floor is very dangerous, quite treacherous for strangers on cold nights like this," said a voice he knew well.

"Henry," he murmured, frightened.

"Yes, I found you unconscious near the dining room. The hit alarmed me, so I came to see what happened," he explained, gently sliding his fingers over his forehead, playing with the dark strands of his hair. "If you were hungry, you could have asked the maids for something; no one would have denied you a meal," he commented, caressing his head while bringing a cup of coffee to his rosy lips.

Relieved by the confusion, he closed his eyes and replied, pretending to be sorry and embarrassed, "Sorry, I'm not used to this. No one has ever treated me so well as you have."

The demon king rested on Henry's right thigh, something that deeply unsettled him. He felt unprotected, deprived of the strength that had once been his. Now, he dwelled within the body of a young female demon, who had sacrificed herself for his well-being, the woman he loved most in his life, remembering this filled him with sadness.

The young aristocrat stroked his small horns, and the demon woman shivered at the touch. Although he had always felt like a man, even in the way he referred to himself, the situation seemed romantic to him, and that excited him. Despite those feelings, he decided to set them aside and expressed, "Though you feel gratitude towards me, my hatred for you is deep. You were the one who destroyed my kingdom, my dreams, my family, my friends; I lost everything. I've spent hundreds of years longing for revenge, and now you treat me as if I'm insignificant," he shouted angrily, squeezing Henry's hand tightly. "I despise you with all my being!"

Even though he could easily remove the young woman's small hands, Henry chose not to. He kept his gaze fixed on her, assessing her words and the expression on her face. Sargonas showed impatience at the lack of a quick response from the man who had taken everything from him. After several seconds, which seemed eternal to him, he finally began to speak, "I think I'm falling in love with you," simple words that Sargonas never expected to hear in his life.

"What on earth are you saying!?" he stammered, the first thing that came to mind.

The man brought his left hand to the redder-than-before face. He caressed her cheek and said, "I like you," without expecting any response from her, he lifted her with both hands and brought her to his lips and kissed her.

Sargonas didn't resist. That situation took him by surprise, plunging him into an unfamiliar experience. Despite spending more than a century in a woman's body, he had never shared a kiss before. In his life, demons were considered scum, receiving barely compassionate treatment, where the greatest show of affection was receiving a meal out of pity. This encounter was an unexpected twist in his lonely and bitter existence.

Despite being sexually assaulted countless times, he had never received a kiss from his assailants. However, when he was a man and felt like the king of the world, he had a harem of several wives with whom he shared kisses every day, but he had already forgotten what it felt like to receive a kiss after so long in a cycle of violence and abuse.

Henry separated his lips and placed her again on his thigh. The demon woman, immersed in silence, reflected on the kiss until, suddenly, she remembered Aipy's small lips that were now hers, and the memory overwhelmed her. She got up from the armchair and hurried to the door leading to the hall. Upon opening it, she escaped in a hurry.

"Wait a moment! Stop! It's dangerous!" exclaimed Henry, trying to catch up with her.

But Sargonas, disoriented by new and old feelings, slipped again on the floor and fell headfirst, becoming unconscious once more.

"It's time to change this floor; whenever the climate stones are here, the marble floor condenses," he murmured as he headed to the hall to assist the demon king again.