A drink to wash away the drama
Part of his court. Yes, that is what I am now. Still, hearing it said allowed is somewhat jarring- the idea that I have been claimed, spoken for, by the literal Devil himself is quite a feat of achievement.
Proudly, I sit up a little taller. I suppose I am much like them now- these other demon lords. A Princess with a demon heart and has high standing among the people of the downside- higher standing than anything I had hoped to achieve in Vriryn at least. It feels good, to mean something, to be someone- especially if that someone has ties with the Devil. And here I was thinking I would be a useless figurehead all my life.
Tarquin, however, has focused on other things.
Eagerly, the red demon leans forward, teeth shining in a sparkling smile as he pulls himself forward on the table, eyes flickering between me and Valerian, as though sensing something between us. The other demon rolls his eyes, sinking back into his seat to play with his knives between his thumb and forefinger, obviously not caring.
Quite clearly having read his mind before the words have been spoken, Valerian stiffens a little in his seat beside me. It is a gesture hardly noticeable from the opposite ends of the room, and positively missed by the other demons who sit across the table, but I have studied enough nobles in my lifetime to notice the signs, to realise when someone is feeling awkward.
"Part of your court? You mean to say you claimed her? Already?" he asks inquisitively, eyeing me up and down. Valerian shifts out of his seat, stretching out his black feathered wings as he flexes the muscles on his back, before moving to position himself behind my chair. Tentatively, he braces his arms on the head of the chair, surveying the room and the two demons who sit attentively before him. A shudder creeps over my skin as his tail comes to curl up around my side.
Briefly, I wonder inwardly to myself whether or not he is doing it on purpose.
The wide grin he gives me seems evidence enough. Not that I should have expected much less from the Devil.
"Indeed. Elowyn wants me to train her demon powers- which I am sure you know will help us a great deal. And in exchange she is to be my consort within my palace. Which is why I suggest you treat her with the respect she deserves. From hence onwards, she is an extension of my being, my companion. You are both well aware of her importance to the downside, but perhaps if she allows it, you can help train her also. But this is a matter we will discuss further tomorrow, when the others are at attendance."
Tarquin scoffs lightly, his eyes wavering over my form. I could have sworn I caught a sly wink in my direction.
"Pretty girl like her, you can't share her around? My kingdom could use that kind of beauty."
At this, Valerian's eyes darken, his hands slinking down to rest upon my shoulders protectively.
"I am afraid not, Tarquin, she is staying with me, where she will be safe," he says smoothly, but his voice is as cold as ice, and all the more deadlier. The red demon stills to a halt, the smile wiped clean off his face. Beside him, Dreyfus groans, grunting loudly as he sweeps up his cards off the table, tucking it into a leather pouch at his side. He pulls the drawstring with a tight tug.
"Don't flirt with the fucking girl, Quin, she's not your playmate. You know the prophecy, so don't push your luck with things that aren't yours to mess with. Besides, I thought with your last ordeal, the last thing you would be wanting is to make Val angry, so shut your fucking mouth."
"Well said," I exclaim, nodding my head affirmatively to the winged demon. Of course, I have no idea what the 'last ordeal' is, but if its enough to get unwanted, not to mention flirtatious, remarks off my back then I say all the better. Besides, despite how cold and menacing Dreyfus seems, he could certainly make a good ally down here, and the more allies I can gain, the better. Looking to gain his favour would suit me quite nicely.
Yet the only signal of acknowledgment Dreyfus gives of my actions is a lingering look, then he goes back to toying with his knives, flicking them between his fingers like nothing ever happened. So much for that, then.
Valerian sways round from his spot behind my seat, reaching across the table to pour two glasses of wine from a pitcher at the centre, offering me one with his free hand. There is still a lingering irritation in his tone, a rigidness in his stance that leads me to believe Tarquin's comments affected him more greatly than he would care to admit. But in spite of noticing this, I say nothing, content to let sleeping dogs lie.
"Wine, chérie?"
I nod my head gratefully.
"Please, this day has been a fucking mess, and I desperately need a drink."
Valerian grins as I take the chalice, gulping down the honeyed liquid that burns the back of my throat with a slight zing that is characteristic of any good alcohol. Relishing the taste, I swill my glass and gulp down the last remaining dregs, not letting a single drop go to waste. After all, I am in the Downside, I might as well have a bit of fun. If fun is a loose term for getting rip roaringly drunk, that is.
Silently I pray to myself that I won't have a raging headache in the morning, and that I will still be able to remember where I am when I wake up.
"A lady after my own heart," he chuckles, resuming his seat next to me as he crosses his legs over, sipping lightly from his chalice, ringed fingers tapping away at the glass. I roll my eyes but grin all the same. Flirt.
But maybe this one isn't so bad.
"So," says the red skinned demon, placing his cup down on the table firmly, his brows knitted in bewilderment. "Exactly what else happened up there, your highness?"