“The residences of Demonkin nobility vary in size and grandeur, often depending on their master’s status and profession. The residence in a mining town of Bretir is said to be one of the most magnificent ones, in spite of it being roughly half the size of other noble residences. It was commissioned by Lord Cerolus Kreshorok for his second wife Sophia, who came from the Human Kingdoms; the style of the residence reflecting the merging of the architectural prowess of these two races.”

̶ Geography of the Mainland, Volume Eight, Royal Cartographer Jonas Maverick, 700 AS

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As my wife and I slowly finish our meal, I decide that we need some exercise.

“Take us around the castle, Lilianna; I want to see all of it.”

“Very well, Master.” Lilianna was born into my service, both of her parents working for me at the time. I’ve allowed them to retire since then, Lilianna staying to learn. She is approaching twenty five years, most likely trying to seduce some of the men around the castle. Not like I really care what they do in their spare time. A job of a maid will never truly stop, but having her man in the same house she serves provides some sort of security.

We exit the dining room, the light of a Lightstone being once again replaced with simple torches on the walls. I like the design, reminds of my childhood home. The Palace of Dralarag was built to look menacing, and I can agree that torch lit corridors did add to the appeal.

My wife walks slowly behind me, trying to stay in my shadow, apparently afraid of whatever we are going to see next. As if I’d let something wander the halls of my home.

We are led to a large room, overlooking the town below us. The mining town of Bretir has been under the pressure of the army and War, never truly allowing it to access the ores it has in the ground nearby. The town will prosper from the mines that will finally be able to be completely built.

The room is… bland. These Human castles really don’t have much in the way of ornaments. I’ve got to see that we order some proper furniture.

My wife, on the other hand, seems to like what she sees, eyeing the knee-high table with large chairs around it, turned towards the large balcony outside. The Sun is almost at the peak of the sky, the room not needing any aid to be lit.

“This is the comfort room, to be used for casual guests, and games.” It does seem welcoming, I guess.

Next we are led to my office apparently. They’ve managed to cram a lot of shelves inside.

“The Master’s Office of course, for official business.” The desk is masterfully made, with lots of compartments for documents. The surface is polished to perfection; I can see my reflection in it. The chair is comfortable to sit in.

My wife is looking around the room, observing the various books and documents, as if trying to understand what is written on the covers. I’ll most likely need to teach her the language, only four of my servants can speak hers.

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There is only one chair in the office, so I will apparently not be needed around here. Good, I never had any knack in those matters.

I try to read what is written on the covers of books on the shelves around me. Is this an office or a library? The letters I know, and the words look similar to Lyndarian, but I cannot see one word that I could guess its meaning.

The maid leads us around the castle, the dark corridors looking daunting. There are so many rooms in here, I cannot believe that this is smaller than the Palace.

You could be reading stolen content. Head to the original site for the genuine story.

We reach a large door on the second floor, two guards having to open it.

I can see a small table and several chairs around it, surrounded by what seems to be rows and rows of books. How many books do they have in here? Several crystals on the ceiling provide the light for the room, with smaller ones placed on the table itself. The small crystals are dim and dark. And to think we thought of Demons as savage and brutish, when they have such huge collections of books with them.

We are then led across the floor, several doors can be seen as the corridor ends.

“This one is the Master’s bedroom.” The maid points towards the largest door at the end of the corridor, the only one on its wall.

“And this one is for the Mistress.” She points towards a smaller door on the right.

Wait, I have my own room?

“Of course, the Mistress can use either of the rooms, but the Master can only use his.”

So, he can’t go into my room. He is going to leave me alone? Or will he force me to come into his room every night? Or will he simply ignore everything and force himself into my room, whether I like it or not?

We are once again led around the castle, while I’m trying to remember where the rooms are. The corridors are confusing, dark, each looking almost the same. We somehow end up on the same place from which we entered the castle.

“So, do you like it?”

I don’t know what to think of all this. I’ve just been shown an entire castle in what seems like seconds.

“I… guess so.” I answer timidly, hoping that he doesn’t prod further.

“Don’t worry, you’ll get used to it with time. Onwards, to the Gardens!”

We exit the castle, guards opening the grand doors for us.

I take a look out on the grounds, various plants around us.

The maid walks in front of us, explaining what each plant is as we move. My husband nods and comments occasionally, while I try to take in all the scenery.

“Grappler.” She points towards a large tree that sways around, a dozen large vines around it, some on the ground, some moving in the air. The trunk of the tree has a large hole between it and the surrounding ground, the inside is pitch black. There is nothing that approaches the tree for as far as the vines reach.

“Seraphim.” A lovely tree with white petals that slowly fall off from the occasional wind that passes through. It is caged in; as if they are trying to contain something within it. It provides a sweet smell around it, as if trying to lull me to sleep.

“It looks beautiful.”

A petal slowly falls to the ground near the tree. A small fire burns where the petal once was, the ground remaining scorched afterwards.

“Deathcry” a small field of black flowers stands in the garden. I try to reach for one and pick it up. A hand stops me. The commanding sound of my husband brings chill to my veins. “Don’t. Try.”

The maid suddenly walks past a humongous tree that seems to have the same fruits that we had for the meal. The roots are thin and spread around the base of the tree, the fruits beckoning people to come and try them. My husband stays in his place, while the maid goes towards the tree.

“This is a Widower; if a woman were to pass by it, nothing would happen; if a man would try to do the same, the roots will kill him. It feeds on Plant Imps, roughly once per week.”

So, a plant that only kills men? A fitting name, I guess, at least.

“Now you have a place to run to when you get angry at me.” My husband smiles honestly. I slowly nod silently, trying to sound calm.