Training in the morning turned into administrative work by the afternoon, and close to evening, I found myself seated in Astrye’s single surviving, intact inn. Around me were townsfolk, and the circular table where I was seated had three others across from me. Ideally, Sey would be with me, but she was flying reconnaissance around the march. Nelys, Taava, and Joisse were busy with other tasks. In the sense that I thought myself an outsider still, I was facing the assembly alone.

Tonight, the matter of Nadya’s death, and the future of Astrye’s self-governance would be decided. I wanted to be home with my wife and daughter, reading, playing a game, or working on designs for a forge for me in the castle while Seyari wrote and Joisse painted.

Instead, I was here in my capacity as Marchioness of Astrye trying not to notice the aura of fear and sadness in the room.

The horror and devastation of the most recent attack had scattered the factions that had been growing in the city. With fewer than half the people it had just the autumn prior, Astrye didn’t have the room any more for that sort of infighting, or for presenting a faction opposed to my king-appointed dominion over these lands.

Not that the sentiment had gone away; the hard faces just outside the inner circle attested to that much. It was just that anger had been replaced with sorrow, and a kind of bone-deep tiredness present in every pair of eyes.

Every pair of eyes save one. Razz, Brynna’s older sister, had a fire in her pale blue eyes. Her ears stood at full alert, but she did not speak. Instead, she had her hand planted firmly between Brynna’s shoulder blades, almost as if she were propping her younger sister up in her chair.

Said younger sister hung her head, ears flat and twitching. Her horns were on full display, a sign that she’d taken on demonic influence. Mine specifically, but whether that mattered would depend on who amongst the townsfolk you asked.

Seated on the other side of Brynna, wearing a stern grimace, was Keran. In a lot of ways, he and Razz looked like Brynna’s parents, if a little young. Perhaps if Keran had been the one to sit proudly and confidently in the chair, he would have looked like a father to both, with gray through his hair that touched the tips of his ears.

Murmurs started, and Razz gave an encouraging nod to her sister.

Brynna’s hands played with the scarf on the table, the one she’d just removed from around her horns, but she lifted her chin and spoke with a voice that sounded almost confident.

“Marchioness Zarenna saved me.” She let the words hang, then continued. “I am no demon, but I am changed. I am also tied to the marchioness now.” She turned to her sister. “I know you think highly of me, Sis, but I can’t lead this city.”

“Rynna, come on!” Razz ruffled her hair. “You’re a fighter, you’re clever, and you’re young. We need that!”

Brynna shook her head.

“I agree,” I said as gently as I could, though it still came out a little rumbly in the close space. Brynna shot me a glare, and Razz a hopeful look, and I continued, “I agree with Brynna. Whoever serves as mayor of Astrye should not be tied so closely to me. Though my link with Brynna is minimal, it still exists, and even were I to sever it, the changes may not revert.”

“Renna, you can’t—”

“Marchioness Zarenna, Razz,” I corrected with a sad smile. “You know I’m an outsider and a demon both. Nadya was chosen because she could serve as a bridge, she could be someone everyone in Astrye trusted.”

Razz glared at me.

I looked from her eyes up and over her shoulder. She followed my gaze without turning her head, ears swiveling. They went flat quickly when she caught the whispers I’d been pretending not to hear. Fear, sorrow, discontent. Under the fatigue, people still spoke of me in hushed tones.

Like a monster sitting in a castle, lording over bent-backed populace.

Nevermind that the doors were open. Nevermind that I visited the city often—flew over it daily. Nevermind all of that, because I was something other and dangerous.

Much of the fear wasn’t an iron-clad belief that every demon’s nature was based in needless malice; it didn’t take a genius to see that. Rather, the fear was grounded in the danger and the otherness, of being led by someone of overwhelming power. How I acted mattered little in the face of the knowledge that I could act any way I damn well pleased and they could do nothing to stop me.

Even knowing as much as I already did, the feeling washed down my spine like a pile of snow thrown down my shirt by a certain childhood friend. I shivered; people flinched.

Razz got it, at that moment.

Her gray eyes changed, and I didn’t mind the flash of pity I saw there.

I was the Sovereign of Wrath, and if I wanted to rule mortals, I needed an intermediary. I needed absolute, concrete proof that I wouldn’t dictate everything. Brynna was tied to me; even if the contract was annulled, which I felt she might ask for soon, she was visibly marked as mine.

Was it true?

Absolutely not.

Did that matter?

…Not really.

I swallowed heavily and pleaded with Razz with a look. I couldn’t ask her directly.

The lupael woman bit her lower lip, and raised her chin. “I’ll do it.”

I inclined my head, ceding authority as best I could. Brynna relaxed visible, and Keran’s harsh look softened just a little.

Razz rose and addressed the assembly. “Does anyone oppose this?”

Aside from a few grumbles, no one did, and I was outside soon after, excusing myself while the townsfolk went over their own matters. Other nobility would chide me for such a laissez faire approach to governance, but someone who didn’t know me personally wouldn’t very well want to tell me I was being an idiot when I could incinerate them.

And I was an idiot a lot, damnit. Despite appearances and a dense amount of recent experience, I was hardly thirty—less if you discounted the time between my death and rebirth.

This was for the best, and information would be shared between city and castle. In a way, my job was to be the wall the city lacked, and an envoy to address external matters.

My other job was to be a mom, and I ought to visit my daughter. Joisse hadn’t really had much difficulty making friends with her patients, some of which matched her… I supposed age didn’t really make sense. Maturity would be more accurate.

Young adults, and humans. That was something I knew about—being an awkward teenager with body issues. Joisse probably had questions, and she probably thought I had “better things to do”. As if.

Seyari was, well… old in a lot of ways, and her childhood was far, far from what either Joisse or myself experienced. Call it a sort of sense beyond my capabilities as a Sovereign demon, but I had a hunch and a few free hours.

My hunch, surprisingly, turned out to have merit. Joisse wasn’t with the few injured remaining in the castle, nor was she in her room. I caught her in the main hall, dressed in clothes I didn’t remember her having, walking purposefully toward the front doors. She was also in human form, hair done neatly and adorned with a red ribbon that threatened to melt my heart.

She looked up at me, surprise written on her features. “Hey, Mom.” Her words weren’t cold. Just surprised, and a little anxious—or perhaps guilty.

All of my planned comments and questions flew right out the window and away into the gray winter sky. “Hey. Where are you going?” I winced when the words left me—they sounded more accusatory than I’d intended.

Joisse stiffened. “Out with some friends. I left a note—they’re good people, Mom. And you know I can defend myself and my friends if something happens.”

And it’s not like any of them could hurt me, her eyes seemed to say. Dhias, was I that protective?

Yes. Yes I absolutely was.

But I’d also just gotten out of a meeting where I admitted to myself and the city the need for distance in certain things, to not over-involve myself. And so, just when my daughter’s jaw started to tighten, I spoke quickly. “Sorry, Joisse—I didn’t mean that to come across as accusatory. Just… I guess I’m overly concerned. I know you’ll be fine, but send a message to the castle if you’re going to be away overnight.”

Joisse looked down, but her stern look softened into a light smile. “I said I would in the note. You worry too much.”

“I guess I do,” I said sheepishly. Realizing I’d sort of interposed myself between her and the door, I moved aside. “Stay safe, then.”

She nodded, and started to walk past me.

“If there’s anything you need to talk about, I’m here for you!”

“Mhm.”

“I mean it! Demon-human relationship things, power dynamics, how to make sure to keep friendships an even playing field—I’m still learning, but I want to help.”

Joisse stopped. She looked around the empty hall, then turned to me, voice quiet enough not to echo. “Actually… that last one—how do you do it? I want to tell my friends, but I’m worried it’ll make things awkward.”

I waved a hand and summoned my own, imperfect, wind wall around us to block conversation. Despite myself, I scratched at a horn as I thought. “Well, that’s hard. I think you already know it’s best you tell them early rather than letting them find out later.”

Joisse furrowed her her brow. “Yeah… but that’s not the hard part.”

“Mhm. I think…” I trailed off, remembering the naivety I had oh so recently. When I spoke, my words were slow and measured. How I used to do it was by trying to prove I wasn’t going to get violent, that I wasn’t going to use the power I had. I don’t think the same anymore—I don’t think that works.

This tale has been pilfered from Royal Road. If found on Amazon, kindly file a report.

“It’s… I’m not really sure how to say it, and I think it varies, but the goal is for them to be friends with all of you, and to get to a place where everyone involved feels like an equal contributor.” I held my hands out, bending palms and fingers into a sort’ve round shape. “Knowledge, skills, talents, things like that can offset raw, blatant power.” I moved each hand to apart, to its own category. “Genuine interest in these things, mutual interest in these things, is the basis you need. I’m sorry if I’m not really making any sense.”

Joisse took a deep breath, looking at the whirling wind and down at her own, purposefully simple clothes. “It’s not about respect of each other, but respect for each other—as people. Trust can happen if that happens.”

I blinked and put my hands down before I confused myself. “That’s… I think that might be it exactly.”

My daughter nodded thoughtfully. “I’ve been thinking about trust and respect lately, when I’m healing people. These friends, I met them when I was helping people, and I’ve been worried they’re only nice to me because they feel like they owe me.”

Oh, that’s a tough one. “I… I think if you trust them enough, you should voice that concern.”

“I know.”

“It’s not easy, is it?”

“Mhm.”

I leaned forward and pulled my daughter into a four-armed hug. “I’m proud of you, you know. You’re a wonderful, thoughtful person.”

“Mom…”

Let me have this. I held her for another second, then let go. “Have fun tonight, okay? And bring your friends over here sometime when you’re comfortable—I’d love to meet them.”

“Mom!”

I shrugged. “You know me.”

That got a genuine smile out of Joisse, and she squeezed my hand before letting go and walking toward the door.

“Don’t forget a heavy coat!”

“I don’t get cold!”

“Do your friends know that yet?”

Joisse stopped at the threshold, sighed, and marched right back past me toward her room.

I watched her go with a proud smile and a profound feeling of warmth. No idea how I got here, but I wish this could be my life.

Unfortunately, in addition to being a mom, I needed to be a good friend to Taava and Nelys, the latter of whom must be getting desperately homesick. I should also pen letters to Aretan, Kartania, Salvador, and Firalex, after Seyari tracks down and eliminates the remaining demons near the pass. Oh, and I still had Marchioness duties, but I could put those on the backburner for the evening.

Except for one task. Tonight, I needed to make plans with Seyari to contact nomad groups south of here to try to track down and eliminate Mordwell. With that threat gone, we could continue to bolster defenses, and spend some time gathering allies and meeting promises.

Including taking Nelys home—for a visit or forever I didn’t know and wouldn’t judge. But they’d been an immense help and I needed to make good on my promise come spring.

***

Relief turned to worry when Sonia first glimpsed the city of Astrye. Hardly more than a town, burnt ruins covered in snow stuck out from intact buildings like jagged teeth, and most of the farms further ahead looked abandoned—deep snow in front of doorways and no smoke curling from sagging chimneys. The mountains surrounding them loomed large, casting the valley in early-afternoon shadow.

When they drew closer, Sonia saw signs of life, and of fresh damage. Repairs were ongoing on several buildings, specks of people dotting rooftops and scaffolds. The castle above the city practically gleamed with freshly polished stone, though it hid under a spiderweb of temporary timber. Particularly, around a gaping hole in the wall nearest the city.

“Damn. I thought Lockmoth was a dump,” Paula muttered.

“They’ve survived assaults here,” Sonia replied, eyes still wandering. “It’s different, I think.”

“Half the damn town’s abandoned.”

“They suffered losses then,” Inva said, walking over to the window of a farmhouse close to the road and peering through one tiny, frosted pane. “No one’s home—and there’s ice in the hearth.”

Paula looked up at the mountains and grimaced. “I don’t like it. Feels like a buncha people huddling, waiting for the headsman.”

Sonia gulped. She’s not wrong. “They’re rebuilding though; they’re not broken yet, right?”

“Right,” Inva said as she rejoined the group. “And I think we’ve been noticed.” She pointed up the road, to a young lupael man walking quickly toward them. He was thin, but lean, with short-cut, straw-colored hair and a stern expression that didn’t seem to suit his face. He was also armed and wearing light armor, although he wasn’t reaching for his blade.

“You two are impossible fuckin’ optimists,” Paula muttered, then slouched to attention.

Sonia stepped forward and waved. “Hello!”

The man waved back, and Paula and Inva relaxed. He jogged up to them, eyes lingering a little on the symbols of Dhias on Sonia and Inva’s clothing. “Glad you made it over the pass. Saying there’s been trouble lately would be an understatement. Oh, and I’m Doryn.”

Sonia kept her chin high. “Sonia Rozaro. What happened here?”

“Demon attack—I heard there were a few up in the pass.”

“We saw,” Inva said.

Doryn’s eyes widened. “Really? Did you kill them?”

Sonia shook her head. “Someone else did. Inva thinks it might’ve been Zarenna Miller, who we’re trying to meet with.”

The young lupael tilted his head. “She didn’t talk to you, see if you were alright?”

“She was chasing stragglers,” Inva answered. “If we can, we’d like to see Zarenna as soon as possible, wherever she may be—and to find a warm place to stay.”

“Inva’s a friend of Zarenna’s,” Sonia added, gesturing to her paladin friend. “Paula and I were hoping to meet her as well.”

Doryn had stiffened at first, but relaxed as Sonia spoke earnestly. His ears twitched, and he waved them to follow. “I can help you with that, I think. You come far? That’s quite the accent.”

“Cavenish,” Sonia replied simply.

“That’s real far. So… what brings you here to see the Marchioness?”

“Marchioness?” Sonia rolled the unfamiliar word around on her tongue.

Inva turned to her. “Nobility—I don’t know the word in Cavenish, if there’s an equivalent, but it’s a title for border nobility and usually earned by merit and not hereditary.”

Doryn nodded. “What she said. So, why’re a couple of Church folks looking to meet the marchioness?”

“Besides Inva seeing a friend,” Sonia answered honestly, “we were hoping to lend aid if she needed it, particularly with the acceptance of demon-blooded. She’s done so much already, even as far away as Inolza.”

Doryn relaxed even more and picked up the pace.

He was probably wondering if I was a demon, Sonia thought. No point in telling him off though—his town had been through a lot and he was probably younger than she was.

Just how much had happened was evident in the city itself as they walked quickly through it. Piles of rubble kept to the sides formed lumps under freshly fallen snow, and every third or fourth building was empty, ruined or simply missing. The people they passed gave Sonia and Inva harsh looks, and the demon-blooded woman struggled to keep her head held high.

Thankfully there were people about, and they were well-clothed and well-fed. If Zarenna was apparently the leader of this city—somehow—it was good her people weren’t destitute. Even if they weren’t particularly friendly.

“Is the marchioness in the castle?” Inva asked as they entered the town square.

Cleaned of snow, and surrounded by mostly-intact or under-repair buildings, it looked… almost picturesque. Pretty, high peaked roofs dripping hand-length icicles and windows glowing with internal warmth.

“She is.”

“Then may we go there?”

Doryn stopped. “I… guess you can.”

“Where were you going to take us?” Paula asked—and her tone had an edge Sonia hadn’t heard in weeks.

“To see the new mayor, and to the inn for a hot room, like you asked. If you want to help the city, the mayor should know.”

“What of the marchioness? Why have a mayor?” Sonia asked.

Doryn shrugged. “Dunno. Not everyone’s willing to trust a demon, even after all she’s done, so she’s made sure we have a mayor, I guess.”

Sonia got the feeling there was more to it—perhaps more than the young man knew, but she didn’t pry and let Inva speak.

“Then let it be known we’re here to help personally, and on behalf of the Church of Dhias.”

Doryn’s smile froze, and the few people near them in the square looked the group’s way.

Paula stepped between Inva and Doryn and groaned. “Alright. What kinda shit did the Church pull here? I’ve been watchin’ the dirty looks you lot are giving these two. I can tell you right now, they’re not like most Church folks.”

“Maybe it’s best I take you to see the Marchioness, then,” a new voice said in a surprisingly affable tone.

Sonia turned to see a tall lupael woman walking toward them. Everyone turned to look at her, and Paula frowned. She moved like someone who’d done a lot of fighting, and her white-tipped gray ears stood at attention while her pale blue eyes studied the group. She didn’t quite affect rigid professionalism when she leaned against the wall next to the group and cocked her head to one side.

“Name’s Razz, and I’m apparently the mayor of Astrye.” She gave a half smile. “A cult of evil bastards dressed up like you all and claiming to be the Church occupied the city a while ago. The marchioness saved us, then later fought with more Church goons who followed. So you can understand why folks might not like you wearing those symbols openly—we’ve never been much for the Church here anyway.

“Thing is, most of us should also remember the man from the Church who saved quite a lot of lives after this last attack. And the marchioness’s sister who wore the same colors.” Razz raised her voice, and the onlookers started to disperse. “So not all of you wish us harm, kinda like demons.”

She stood up from the wall and stuck out her hand. Sonia shook it; Razz’s grip was like a vice.

“Doryn, thanks for welcoming these three, but you can go back to your duties.”

“Yes, ma’am!” Doryn replied with a salute and marched off.

“How much did you hear?” Inva asked.

Razz twitched her ears. “Enough. Heard you’re friends of Zarenna.”

“We are.”

“Follow me then. I’ll take you to see her.”

“Sure!’ Sonia nodded and tried to sound chipper.

Razz gave her an odd look, then chuckled. Inva took the lead, and Paula fell into step behind, head on a swivel and face stuck in a grimace.

The mayor led the three of them up the well-trodden road to the castle in relative silence. For once, Sonia didn’t feel like asking too many questions, or rather her mind was too occupied to chatter. Though she did at least ask after the latest attack.

A third or more of the city, dead. One quick response, and the conversation had ended. Razz seemed to her like a talker, but preoccupied as well. And she has very good reason to be.

They walked past the hole in the wall, and when they were inside, Inva spoke up.

“What about the wall? It doesn’t look that recent.”

“Marchioness punched it down,” Razz answered without a hint of a joke in her voice. Though she did sound almost proud.

Sonia looked at the rubble and the wall as thick as she was tall and gulped. Just how strong is Zarenna? What will she be like?

The entrance hall was starkly unfurnished, and their footfalls echoed up the stairs and down the hall. A maid found them and Razz relayed their desire to meet the marchioness. Sonia couldn’t help but think she saw the maid wink at her on her way by, eye shifting. I must be seeing things.

The three of them were led to a room with tall, narrow windows and newly built furniture. It smelled of pine and plaster, and the sun peeking through the clouds was barely enough to illuminate the space. Cushioned couches and chairs were arrayed around a low table, and the three of them took seats in an arc, facing the door.

“The Marchioness should be by shortly. I’ve work to get back to—and to figure out—so good luck.” Razz nodded, and left, ignoring Paula’s glare.

“Didn’t think I’d be waiting in a noble’s Dhias-damned tea room.” Paula relaxed into her seat once the door had closed, but her eyes stayed alert. “At least it’s warm.”

Next to Sonia, Inva took a deep breath.

“Excited?” Sonia asked.

“Yeah. There’s a lot I want to ask her.”

“Same,” Sonia agreed.

Paula rolled her eyes when the demon-blooded priestess looked her way. “Yeah, same here I guess. We’re friends. Happy?”

“Yes!”

Paula made a gagging sound, and Inva’s composure broke with snorting laughter. They managed to talk a little before tea arrived, carried by the same maid. She worked quickly, efficiently, and wordlessly, though her eyes lingered on Sonia.

They lingered enough that she spoke up when the maid was leaving. “Do I bother you?”

The maid’s stoic face broke into an almost disturbingly wide smile. “Nope!”

Before anyone could get another word in, the maid ducked swiftly out of the room, closing the door with a well-practiced motion.

Paula spun a finger by her head. “Fuckin weirdo. Wait—you’re actually gonna drink that?”

Inva took a sip and smiled. “Zarenna wouldn’t poison anyone. Not us or her enemies.”

Sonia stared at her own cup—simple, fired clay—and lifted it. The tea smelled of pine and mint, and the taste lingered pleasantly on her tongue, woody and floral both.

“Whatever.” Paula took a sip herself. Then another.

Inva was just pouring herself a second cup from the pot when the door clicked.

“Sorry to keep you waiting.” The voice on the other side was rich and smooth like velvet, but had a sort of otherness to it that raised the hairs on the back of Sonia’s neck.

Both Inva and Paula jolted up straight in their chairs.

The door opened a little, and Sonia found she was looking at chest height. The figure on the other side was impossibly tall and had crimson skin like Sonia’s own under a simple tunic and trousers.

Marchioness Zarenna Miller was built like an exaggerated version of Inva, and her sheer size made her four arms, each as thick as Inva’s thigh and ending in black-clawed hands, look almost proportionate. Blue, slitted eyes looked down on them from within inky-black sclera, and sharp teeth poked out from behind her smile.

Her face itself looked… unreal. Perfect symmetry, angled cheekbones, all framed by shining black hair and massive horns. With her, came a sort of pressure, and Sonia felt herself locking up in fear she didn’t quite feel.

Zarenna took a step forward into the room… and banged her horns on the top of the doorframe hard enough that the three of them heard wood crack.