The Grand Chamber was awash in the brilliant, crystalline light of the morning. It streamed through the enormous windows, illuminating the tense figures within its glow and the breathtaking expanse of the turquoise ocean beyond the wide, tiled balcony. The beauty, however, was not enough to drown out the suffocating silence. Outside, mythical winged beasts, their scales catching the sunlight in flashes of gold and sapphire, soared lazily through the airy, salt-kissed sky.
The room held a sharp, contained tension that cut through the bright calm.
Josephine had felt extremely off-kilter from the moment she had been summoned to Prince Jasper's chambers along with Ida and Lola. It was a well-known fact that Daniela spent her evenings in the Prince's quarters, but she always left in the morning to dress in the Princess's chambers—a semblance of decorum that, while it didn't dispute people's assumptions of her lack of chastity, gave a model of respect for the way things were done.
But this morning was unlike the others. They had been summoned directly by the Lord's servant, Hermes. The three women stood in a semicircle around Daniela, their hands moving in a silent, anxious flurry as they helped her dress for the day. Daniela's body was rigid, her expression cold and hollow. Her eyes were glazed, not truly focusing on anything or anyone.
The maids shared looks of deep concern while a dark blush covered their cheeks. There was no dressing screen in the room—no divider to provide a sense of modesty or privacy. Instead, they dressed her in the open air as Prince Jasper stood on the opposite side, as naked as the day he was born, being dressed by his own servants who did not dare look in Daniela's direction.
Josephine worried for the Princess's reputation. It wasn't the best to begin with, but this would only cause more rumors to wag. She remained vigilant, watching the other male servants to ensure none of them caught a glimpse of her Princess. Lola's eyes kept flashing between Daniela and Jasper.
She wasn't sure if the others could feel it, but there was a palpable sense of animosity in the air. Something had happened between them—something that even Daniela could no longer pretend wasn't there. Frowning, Lola looked toward the other maids, silently mouthing, "What happened?"
Ida shook her head subtly, her eyes darting back to the floor. She had no desire for Lola's youthful indulgence to get them all beheaded by the Prince.
Inside Daniela, a dizzying, internal thrumming consumed her. Her nerves felt charged like wires stretched too taut. With every flicker of emotion—a surge of anger, a spike of hurt—her very skin seemed to vibrate. She felt like a vessel struggling to contain a volatile, growing pressure. Her mind was filled with her own pleas for mercy, hearing her own soft cries echoing in her head—a disturbing chorus of fragility that made her jaw tighten. She refused to be under anybody's boot.
Across the expansive room, near a carved ebony writing desk, Prince Jasper stood like a marble statue. His attention barely grazed Hermes, his cold black eyes flickering downward toward the pudgy servant before sweeping back to his true focus: Daniela. Hermes remained deep in his morning briefing, his voice a monotonous, steady drone.
"...After that, Your Highness, your Queen Mother expects your presence in her office. The matter is personal, I believe," Hermes recited, consulting a scroll. "Following that, the approval of the travel documents for the prominent demons from the Western Province—a necessary formality, but one that demands your seal."
Jasper heard only the rhythmic cadence of the words, not their meaning. His eyes were locked on Daniela. Her refusal to meet his gaze—the rigid set of her shoulders, the controlled stillness of her head—sent a slow, building burn of irritation through him. Why was she so mad? He had done her no harm.
It was in that moment that Jasper's focus sharpened. A faint, almost imperceptible visual aberration was blooming around Daniela's form. A delicate swirl of emerald green light was ghosting her outline—an ethereal haze that pulsed with the beat of her hidden anxiety. It was not a reflection; it was a leak.
Jasper's eyes narrowed. He cut Hermes off with a voice like a razor of ice. "Everyone," Jasper commanded, his gaze never leaving Daniela. "Out. Now."
Hermes bowed instantly and herded the three maids from the room. They gave one last, frantic exchange of looks before the heavy oak door closed with a muffled thud. The silence that followed was immense, broken only by the gentle roar of the ocean waves.
Daniela was finished being dressed, the gown clinging tightly to her skin. She still refused to meet his eyes. The sight of his polished boot made her pulse quicken with a rage that demanded vengeance.
"I don't wish to exchange any more words!" she said, her voice low and tight.
Jasper ignored her entirely. He began to move, a slow, deliberate circle around her, his eyes piercing and analytical. He was not looking at her face; he was examining the visual evidence of the green aura. Jasper's large palm hovered above her head as shadows coalesced in his grip. An inky black droplet formed, gathered mass, and detached, splashing onto Daniela's dark green hair. It dissolved over her body, suppressing the power that tried to lash outward.
He reached out and gripped her hand, watching as her magic naturally tried to battle his own. "Your power is leaking." He sighed, pulling her closer until her body was flush against his. He breathed her in, his nostrils catching the scent of her sweet skin. "You will stay by me no matter what. We will have to leave today."
Jasper's skin absorbed his power as the ink like substance retreated. The sudden return of the crystalline morning light felt violent against Daniela's raw nerves.
Jasper didn't let go of her. He tucked her hand firmly into the crook of his arm, his fingers tapping a rhythmic, possessive beat against her knuckles. He began to lead her toward the heavy oak doors, his stride confident, as if he hadn't just witnessed her soul fracture
"Where?" Daniela asked. The itch under her skin seemed to melt away as Jasper's magic suppressed her own, but she still felt a sense of helplessness.
As they stepped into the long, vaulted corridor, the rhythmic clack of their shoes on the marble floor was the only sound. Passing guards snapped to attention, their eyes hard and focused. Daniela didn't look at them. She kept her chin parallel to the floor, her gaze fixed on the distance.
"To the Demon Realm. We will stay until you learn control. I pray you are a decent student!"
At his last words, his black orbs clashed with her green. He expected to see the humor and ease that usually existed between them, but she remained still.
"In this moment, I have no choice. I must hold your hand and smile," she said with a measured finality. "But I want you to know: I despise you. If we were not bound by an oath, I would make sure your death was vicious and long. We are allies and nothing more. Save your jokes for a friend. Because it cannot be me."
Jasper's black eyes hardened. "I have done you no wrong!"
"Last night," she began, her voice trembling. "You tortured me! Because I refused you."
"It was a bit of fun," he said, waving a hand as if brushing away a stray cobweb.
The dismissal was the final spark. Daniela snapped. She ripped her hand from his grasp and lunged at him, her fists slamming into his broad chest. As she rained blows upon him, the internal pressure of her leaking magic reached a breaking point. Her power, thrashing to escape her body, caused micro-tears to open across her skin. Beads of crimson blood and sweat began to bloom on her arms and brow, staining his tunic as she struck him again and again.
Jasper didn't flinch. He simply watched her soul vibrate with a desperation that was physically tearing her apart.
"This life!" she gasped out, her voice sounding like jagged glass. "A battle to see who will be the worst monster."
Jasper's expression darkened, and the shadows around them deepened, creating a protective dome that cut them off from the world. Daniela screamed—a sound that had been trying to work its way out for years—until her voice gave out and her body sagged. Jasper held her upright, lifting her chin with one hand while he used a handkerchief to wipe the blood beginning to ooze from her ears.
"I will always be the worst monster," he replied lately, unaware of the depth of damage being done.
Daniela did not spare him a glance. She let her face become a mask of cold, regal glass. Together, they turned toward the breakfast hall. She walked beside him, her hand a cold weight in his, wearing the blood on her skin like a silent, crimson accusation.
Author's note:
Not sure where everybody who's reading this book is from. But if you celebrate Christmas Hanukkah something else lol. Merry Christmas, happy Hanukkah. Pleasant solstice 😁