8 The Devil makes his entrance

Before I can finish my line, all at once screams erupt from the crowd in a cacophony of noise and chaos. Fearful screeches and a series of pitiful whimpering's can be heard as nobles dive bomb like birds to hide beneath their seats and away from the source of all the ruckus.

My eyes shoot to the walkway, scanning over the golden carpet until they stop on a swirling vortex of blackness, my heart stopping dead. For a moment, there is nothing, only the swirling abyss in the middle of the room, impenetrable to sight, a black hole shifting and reforming in the centre of the room. Then, quite suddenly, a figure emerges from a darkened mist, combing his hair back with the casual nonchalance of a creature trained with the perfect mannerisms of not giving a fuck.

The tall, dark haired man dusts off his delicate suit and wipes of his hands carelessly as the darkness draws back into his body, seeping through his skin as though it is being sucked through a vacuum. He peers around at the chaos surrounding him, hands thrust into his pockets, the biggest shit eating grin on his face.

"Excuse me, I am so terribly sorry to interrupt this lovely wedding, but I am afraid I have some rather urgent business to attend to."

My eyes widen, partially out of shock, and another part exhilaration. Could it really be..?

I drop the prince's hand in utter disbelief. The figure is not an unfamiliar one, in fact it is quite the opposite. It is a figure I have scene plastered through story books, myths and legends, all denoting a variety of forms and appearances, each skewed towards the illustrators perception. It is the image of my childhood, and one of far fetched dreams.

But what surprises me the most, is it is the same figure I had seen not moments before lounging across a bench under the shade of an apple tree, the same wintry pallor on his skin, the same messy, black hair and violent, violet eyes that flash with a perpetual sense of devilish amusement. The basic elements are still there- the suave suit, the classically handsome looks and the inherent air of esteem and royalty that seems to make all the other nobility in the room look like first class peasants.

But there is something else, too. This figure is far different, as though the man on the bench was a mere shadow of his form, an illusion, a pretender. The man that stands in the middle of the throne room spills darkness from every orifice, his form swirling in an inky blackness, like blood in shark infested waters. His looks are sharper, much more brooding, his eyes lined with a dark kohl that he seemed to put on just for the occasion. And behind him, a pair of jet black wings trail, sweeping up the room in the shadow of their magnificent form.

He steps forward a few paces, raising his arms, his dark lion's tail sweeping beside his feet as his piercing gaze collides with mine.

"Hello again, chérie, I do so hope I am not too late," he says, winking at me, his sly grin widening on his features. I smile wickedly.

After all these years, of searching and waiting, the monster himself finally shows up. Perhaps I should consider myself lucky. But he sure as hell took his time.

I lift my chin up haughtily.

"No, you are right on time."

My mother forcibly positions herself beside me, her fingers clawing the air, lips peeled back into a wolf-like snarl.

"Don't you dare communicate with him, Elowyn," she hisses, then looking sharply over to the man in the middle of the throne room adds: "You aren't welcome here, devil. Remove yourself from this place!"

Sighing, he picks at his black nails, clucking his tongue in disapproval. A little bored, he tilts his head to get a better look at the Queen.

"Akari, long time no see. Not quite the welcome I was expecting, but hello to you too. Whether I am welcome or not, that means nothing to me, as I said, I have business. Rather unfortunately, I am not here for you, though," his eyes turn to me, holding out a hand to me from across the room. The honeyed words that slip from his mouth send shivers down my spine.

"Rather I am here for your daughter."

Never in my life did I ever think I would hear those fated words from the Devil himself, but hearing them now makes them all the more fantastic. As if finally, after all these long years of searching and suffering under my mothers vengeful hand, it has all at last paid off.

Behind me, the Queen places a firm hand on my shoulder, holding me in place. Prince Yariel backs away slightly, unsure what to make of the situation, glancing around frantically, perhaps wondering as though the Devil turning up mid wedding is a usual occurrence for this place. Only Alastor stands his ground, watching with the same awe-stricken intensity that had consumed him when I had told him about the holes to hell all those years ago. His body is fixated, rigid, the only sign of life on him captured in the slight twitch of his ears, and the dainty motion of his tail.

Waiting patiently, the Devil splays out his wings, causing the crowd to shriek and cower, but he takes no notice of them, his eyes firmly fixed on me. He beckons once more.

"You have no business with my daughter, you demon," the Queen spits, her grip tightening, fingers digging into my elbow, unrelenting as steel. I wince against the pain. The Devil sighs, rolling his eyes as he takes another few steps forward.

"I'm the Devil, not a demon. There is a big difference there. And actually, I do. I'm here to make good of our bargain. I am rather offended that you tried to marry her off when I distinctly remember you promised to uphold my deal last time I visited."

I stop breathing. Last time he visited? He's been here before?

I turn to the Queen beside me, whose icy eyes remain focused on the figure standing oh so casually in the walkway, so intent she does not even notice my gaze. Her lips twist into a silent snarl, to which the Devil only smiles.

"Deal?" I ask, my eyes darting back and forth between the two figures. "What deal?"

It wouldn't be the first time my mother has hidden something like this from me. After all, I only learnt about my wedding three weeks ago, and even saying that is a stretch. But a deal with the Devil? That's something else entirely.

"He's lying, Elowyn, don't you dare listen to a word he tells you. He is a conniving snake, and a fraud, and a liar," she spits, throwing daggers with her eyes, as though trying to smite him with them.

All at once the Devil is right beside me, materialising out of thin air in a vapoury mist of shadows and darkness. His fingers curl around the air as he tilts his head to look at me, all figures around us stumbling back, all excluding my mother, who holds her ground. He is so close I can feel every breath upon my skin.

"Don't tell me Akari didn't actually tell you, Princess?"

Before my mother can even get a word out, I intercede.

"Tell me what?" I ask suspiciously, narrowing my eyes at the tall, winged creature before me- to trust the Devil wholeheartedly would be an awfully bad decision to make, but with all this talk about deals, and my mother in stubborn denial, what choice to I have? A snaking smile forms on his ruby lips, his eyes gleaming delightedly.

"Oh-ho! How delectable, she did not!" he exclaims, rubbing his hands together as he begins to pace lengthways underneath the canopy, his dark wings trailing in misty waves of frost and starlight. Half-heartedly I notice that Alastor has moved to my side, his body pressed close to mine, close enough that I can feel the warmth seeping off his body in little sparks of comforting heat. His hand slips into mine, holding me steady. I clutch it tight.

At once the Devil is standing in the walkway again, his hands splayed wide as he brings them to run through his mussy raven locks, a look of glee plastered over his face. He looks like the main figure of an theatrical showpiece, now all he needs is a spotlight.

"Would you allow me the honour of explaining, chérie?" he says, bowing at the waist, his hair flopping down over his eyes, then he straightens back up again, his smile ever widening. I make to reply, but my mother cuts through me furiously.

"She would not! She does not need to know!"