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Still, despite my shocking appearance, I keep my chin lifted. I will not break, I will not show weakness- I won’t allow them to rob this last bit of defiance from me, no matter what else they may take.
Even as I try to steel my resolve, however, my stomach hollows out beneath a horrific realization. The bathing, the dress, the grooming… all of it seems intended to dress me up, make me more appetizing somehow.
A shudder rolls through me faster than I can suppress it as the word appetizing crosses my mind. That may be far, far too close to the truth for comfort.
Before I have time to linger on the thought, the demons are leading me from the small room and back through the kitchens and winding servants’ halls. It takes hardly any time at all before we’re back in the main rooms of the gilded palace, and with every step I take forward, my blood thrums louder in my ears.
There’s no escape.
At every turn, I look for an exit, a window, a potential weapon, anything to aid me in my attempt to escape, but there’s nothing but latched doors and more demons. With every passing moment, the reality of my situation grows harder to ignore, desperation clawing behind my ribs.
I’m hopelessly lost at this point, and have no idea how I would possibly navigate myself out of the palace, much less where I would go if I even did manage to get out. The demons’ grips on my arms become lighter as we draw closer to our destination, as if they can sense the fight beginning to drain out of me.
We turn yet another countless corner, and the sight of the hall has fingers of ice dancing down my spine. This hall is even more ornate than the others, with plush crimson carpeting meeting my bare feet and elaborate sconces and paintings dripping with gold.
My heart hammers wildly in my chest as my eyes land on a massive set of gilded double doors. Whoever sent for me is clearly high within the demonic ranks, or else they’d never be settled into a place with such obvious finery.
One of the demons reaches around me to knock lightly on the door, and after a moment of silence, a deep, velvety voice echoes from within.
“Enter.”
My knees wobble, and I clasp my hands together tightly in front of me to try and quell their shaking. Beads of sweat begin to pool at the back of my neck, sliding down my spine, as the demon wordlessly opens the door and guides me into the flickering, firelit room beyond.
My mind vacates as my eyes land on the figure lounging in an armchair beside the hearth.
A massive, cloaked demon in ornate armor black enough that it seems to swallow the light is leaning back lazily in the chair, one leg perched carelessly on the adjoining footstool. I can’t see his eyes, or any distinguishing features for that matter, but I can feel the weight of his gaze on me like a physical touch.
Two large, dark horns curve up and then away from his hooded face, shadows seeming to pulse and dance around him. My breath hitches in my throat, but I keep my chin lifted, staring him down.
I’ve been brought to none other than the Demon King himself.
