Talia congratulated herself on catching Weylin right before her lunch. She had dragged the suspicious soul—a curious frown tilting his brows—with her to the eating hall. She was glad she had instructed Aseel to prepare more food since their picnic yesterday. One never knew when an opportunity would arise.

“I was under the impression that one didn’t require food to survive here. Is it different for you?” Weylin asked.

“No. It’s more a matter of indulgence.”

“And sleep?”

“We do sleep, but we won’t die if we go for weeks without it. It would take years for insomnia’s side effects to kick in and even more to reach an irreversible point,” she added at his raised eyebrow. “But it’s hard to say no to a good night’s sleep.”

“Indulgence.”

She smiled. “Of course.” She took a sip of her tea, closing her eyes as the fragrant steam wafted over her face. “Idirians’s lives are already dull as they are.” she shrugged.

“Dull enough to invade other worlds?”

Talia paused, staring at him. It was a question, but strangely enough, it didn’t sound like one.

“If one is daring enough to face judgment, then sure, they could try their luck. Though they should be ready to pay the price.”

There was a moment of silence before he asked, “And what is the price?”

“Their life.”

He nodded, his eyes already straying to his cup.

Talia watched him, now more than ever intrigued by the reason behind his inquiry. This felt like an interrogation. Like he was trying to pry information out of her. She couldn’t help but huff at the irony of it all.

So was she.

“So you’re not invincible?”

She narrowed her eyes at him. “No one is,” she said, eyes boring into his.

Their conversation then moved to more banal subjects: the weather, the number of requests she gets by day, the number of worlds she’d gotten the flower seeds from.

“That’s Aseel’s job. I’m afraid you’ll have to ask him for the exact numbers. But it’s more than three thousand worlds.”

He hummed, impressed.

“Have you been to many worlds?”

“Only only.” She gazed at the blue flower with red edges, the one she had personally collected. At Weylin’s querying look, she added, “I wasn’t interested in anything outside Idir. But after my first—and only—outer world travel, I assumed the role of Master of Scales. By then, leaving my domain unattended was impossible.”

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“That world’s inhabitants must have been delighted to set eyes upon such a powerful being.” His words were flattering, but she could feel anger buried deep underneath. “Or were there no intelligent creatures?”

“There were humans such as yourself.” Or close enough, without the hidden power she could sometimes feel faintly radiating off him. “But I believe not coming into contact with them was the wisest choice.”

“Why? Were they lower beings than yourself?”

“There’s no such thing as lower beings,” she said. “No matter their power, all beings are equal to the creator. And as the Master of Scales, I should regard them as such.” She took another sip. “I merely didn’t wish to disturb their lives. They were honest humans trying their best to survive.” She glanced back at the flower, her mind back to thousands of years ago, back to a colony of humans hiding behind wooden walls, surrounded by monsters keen on a taste of their flesh. “I might have lent them a hand, but nothing they would have noticed.”

He looked at her, then smiled. “I see. Truly a shame, then. I think they might have wanted to thank their benefactor.”

“I didn’t do it for their gratitude.” She shrugged.

She found Ilya waiting for her. The pitiful soul nodded at her, eyes full of determination. She hummed, motioning for him to come closer.

It didn’t take long for him to decide. He had readily agreed to her proposal as soon as the words had left her mouth. His brows had furrowed in displeasure when she told him to think it through and give her his response the day after.

She wasn’t one to deceive another, especially a desperate soul. She wanted him to be fully aware of what he was agreeing to.

If he failed to convince Weylin, then all future chances would be void, and she would send his soul to be weighed by the scales.

The former knight dashed through the hall and stopped a few feet from her.

“W-where is this person you wanted me to persuade? Though, I can’t believe there is someone mad enough to refuse such an opportunity. What does he have for brains? Are you certain he’s sane? That man must have lost it after years roaming these halls. Not that I can fault him. Still. To have Lady Talia herself ask you and refuse? I tell you, that man is insane.”

Talia raised an eyebrow at his rambling.

So he knew her name.

She heard Aseel give an amused snort. She threw him a look, daring him to voice his thoughts. She already knew what he was thinking from all the looks he had been giving her each time he caught her looking out the window, searching for the reflection of golden strands of hair against the bright Idir sun. Aseel shot her an unimpressed look. He sighed, shaking his head, then took Ilya’s document that appeared on her desk and put it aside.

She turned her attention to the still-rambling soul.

“He’s outside.” She motioned out the window.

He was standing in front of that flower, the one she had glanced at at their lunch meeting. She didn’t think he had noticed her straying gaze. She wondered what expression he was sporting.

She heard Ilya gasp next to her. She turned curious eyes on him.

“That’s-that’s the demon lord!” His throat seized as if his breath was struggling with which way to escape.

“Breath.” Or don’t. This fool didn’t even need to breathe.

He nodded, taking sharp, short-winded breaths.

She glanced at Weylin, leisurely strolling around the garden. How could he be a demon? Talia had met many demons. Some were more charismatic than others, but none of them was this good-looking. A soul never betrayed a person’s true origin. If he was a demon, his soul’s appearance would have revealed it.

She narrowed her eyes at Ilya. “Are you certain of your words?”

“Not just certain! He’s the reason why I’m here!”

She hummed, still disbelieving.