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Twin and triplet are common in our family, which explains why Asmodeous tasked me out to find a human woman with such urgency. Regardless, I have enough to deal with as it is. Adding another child to the fray, even if it were my own blood, feels akin to a drowning zonak asking for more water.
Besides – if she has a cognizant thought in her little mind – I doubt the human woman is all that eager to bear my children. The thought saddens me, although I’m not entirely sure why. Children are meant to be a joy, not a duty.
I move about the sitting room, gathering up the half-eaten food and refuse, rearranging the furniture, and putting the whole room to rights. It’s only after I’ve been cleaning for an hour that I blink with a slow realization.
Where in the Seven’s name are the zonak?
I drop everything and storm toward the servant’s quarters, cursing them internally. That room had to have been in shambles for half the morning, at least, and yet nothing has been done about it. In fact, the only time I’ve seen either of them all day is at the carriage.
The two zonak have proven to be markedly more useless than a nest of hibernating howler beasts. I only hired them at Elencia’s request, after listening to her moan and groan about the state of the house. I suggested that she and her sisters could rectify the issue by cleaning up after themselves, seeing as the house was never such a mess when I lived here alone, but of course, having them clean up after themselves is out of the question.
My temper flares as I round the corner into the common room between the two zonaks’ bedrooms to find them both lounging.
One zonak is passed out on a spare chaise, his mouth stretched wide, drool dripping onto the plush fabric and down his tunic. The other zonak is playing a solo game of cards at the dining table, and at least has the good sense to jump to his feet as I enter the room- a moment too late.
I loosen the rein I hold on my magic and it flares. Terror dawn on the rising zonak’s face as my magical aura pulses around me, swallowing the nearby light. Sparks dart around my fingertips as I fling them towards the two indolent servants.
The conscious of the two tries to evade the sparks as if they were mere embers from a fire. Fool, I think to myself with a sneer. The sparks latch onto their target, stinging him like angry hornets, his yelps reverberating down the hall as he sprints away, the seat of his pants smoking.
Just as he’s out of my line of vision, I hear a small choking noise from the zonak on the chaise as drool gets caught in his shriek at being awoken to the stinging sparks. I bark out a laugh as he hits the ground hard, batting uselessly at the magic as he scrambles to his feet.
“The next time the two of you shirk your responsibilities, you’ll realize what a kindness these sparks are,” I snarl at him as he bounds from the room, howling when one of the sparks finds its mark on his wrinkled gray flesh.
In the silence of the common room, my amusement fades. I’ve never cared for having servants, partly because they’re unreliable, but mostly because I dislike needing to dole out punishments when they inevitably fall short of my expectations.
Dark elf servants have become increasingly popular since our arrival to Protheka. They’re fitted with magic collars that claim to wipe their memories and cripple whatever magical ability they may have had in their previous lives. I’ve considered trading in the zonak for a few, but I dislike the idea of elves in my home even more than useless demons.
Where humans are useless, lowly animals, dark elves are cruel, vindictive creatures. I don’t trust a collar to keep them from their true nature.
I sigh, rubbing my temples to try and dispel the brutal headache growing there. There’s simply too much on my plate these days: the triplets and all their messes, King Asmodeous’ newest orders, the persistent duties of a soz’garoth, trying to keep my estate running…
Adding a new guest to the equation is nothing short of a nightmare- not to mention needing to keep the estate fit for a guest with nothing but two useless zonaks to rely on.
I shake my head, chiding myself for my train of thought. She’s a human. I doubt she’d so much as notice a mess, much less care.
I’m not sure why I even bothered.
The only standard that matters is mine or the King’s, I remind myself as I stalk off toward the dining room. The girls will be home soon, and I should at least ensure that the space is fit to eat in and that food is actually prepared for when they return home.
I have half a mind to feed the human girl as well, but I’m worn so thin that I can’t trust myself to be patient if the pathetic creature bursts into tears again.
It’s going to be a long day, I think, bracing myself for the girls’ impending return.
64
NATALIE
If I wasn’t so accustomed to being uncomfortable, I’m sure my back would be aching by now. Maybe it is, and I’ve forgotten what it is like to relax.
I’ve been sitting on the bed, curled into the corner farthest from the door, since I was left alone here. My knees are pressed against my chest, and my arms have been locked around my shins so long that they’re too stiff to move.
I haven’t dared to try, though.
I’ve been afraid to breathe, much less explore the room I’ve been shoved into. I don’t know what to make of that monster who has claimed me, and I keep hoping that if I curl up enough, he just may forget me.
Unfortunately, my body refuses to allow that to happen. As quiet as I’ve been, my stomach gurgles as if to remind me and the rest of the world that I am, in fact, alive and kicking. A whine escapes me, and it grumbles louder.
“Could you shut up?” I ask.
