"Now I am really concerned about the start of these chapters."
Magnus stated, joining the throne as if he was a part of it. Not sitting—joining. As in, melting. As in, if someone came in right now, they'd think the furniture was alive and clinically depressed.
"What?" Marianne asked, tilting her head, teacup in hand.
"This is the third time a chapter has started with me just... commenting on the chapter starting," Magnus muttered. "It's getting too meta. At this point, even the readers are side-eyeing me."
"Readers?" she blinked. "You mean the staff?"
"You wouldn't understand, human." Magnus chuckled
"Don't talk like you are superior, you lazy loaf."
Magnus blinked. "Did… did you just call me a loaf?"
"Yes. A loaf. And that's just the appetizer."
She straightened up, arms crossed, eyes narrowing like she was about to perform an exorcism with pure insults.
"You sentient blanket pile."
Magnus squinted.
"You expired marshmallow."
He winced.
"You half-boiled potato in royal cosplay."
"That one felt personal."
"You overcooked dumpling of doom."
"I'm not even round!"
"You walking snooze button. You royal sleep paralysis demon. You deluxe edition of 'Do Nothing and Cry About It.'"
Bob wheezed in the background.
"You glorified beanbag with delusions of grandeur!"
"Okay, enough."
Magnus raised a hand weakly, as if surrendering in slow motion. "Any more and I might dissolve into my throne for real. Like, permanently."
Marianne sipped Magnus' tea, unfazed. "Good. That throne needs more padding anyway."
Bob made a coughing sound that suspiciously resembled a chuckle.
Magnus shot him a sideways glare. "Bob, whose side are you on?"
"I serve the realm, my Lord. And currently, the realm is enjoying this roast session immensely."
Magnus slumped further. "Betrayed by my own butler. Again."
"I live to serve," Bob replied with a bow.
"Whatever, there's no need for me to care about you people."
Magnus reached out for his cup of tea just to realize it wasn't there.
"Where's my cup?" His eyes darted intensely at bob, Who hadn't done anything but even I feel like he would do something.
"Why are you asking me?. Don't look at me with those eyes!"
Marianne stared at the both of them arguing, indeed. Two idiots.
"Wait a second...." Magnus's eyes snapped back to Marianne, who was casually wiping her mouth with a napkin, teacup now empty.
"That's my tea!" Magnus said, voice rising in mock outrage.
Marianne shrugged, a mischievous glint in her eye. "You weren't drinking it fast enough."
Magnus glared, feeling oddly betrayed by the warm emptiness where his tea had been. "You can't just drink a Demon King's tea without asking!"
"Oh, I asked." She grinned. "You just ignored me, as usual."
Bob snorted quietly. "I'm fairly certain ignoring is Magnus's default setting."
Magnus muttered, sinking deeper into the throne. "Great. Not only am I a loaf, I'm a neglected loaf."
Marianne smirked. "Next time, maybe you should finish your tea before melting into furniture."
Bob added. "No way he can do that. He's Magnus."
She agreed. "Yeah, he's Magnus"
"...Don't call me by my name, you demons!" magnus snorted
"I am only human, after all!" Marianne sang.
"Shut up!!"
Magnus glared at both of them but couldn't help the small smile tugging at his lips. Even if they roasted him mercilessly, it was oddly... comforting.
Bob straightened his posture, clasping his hands behind his back like a proper butler, though the twitch in his lip betrayed the grin he was holding in.
"Shall I prepare another cup for His Majesty?" he asked, voice far too formal for the situation. "Or shall we preserve the historic moment when the Demon King of Sloth was defeated by a teacup thief?"
Marianne lifted the empty cup like a trophy. "Long live the Queen of Caffeine."
"You're banned from the kitchen," Magnus muttered.
"You don't even have a kitchen," she shot back.
"…Shut up," he said again, but this time it came out half a laugh.
A knock suddenly echoed from the grand double doors.
All three heads turned.
"Please let it not be work," Magnus whispered like a prayer.
The doors creaked open slowly. A nervous staff member peeked in—too new to know the chaos he was walking into.
"U-Um, my Lord," the staff member began, "there's a… situation in the west wing. A… eogekegdud has gone rogue."
Magnus blinked. "A what."
"A eogekegdud.."
Magnus smile faded at that absurd name. "Delete that beings existance. It's name brings me anger"
The staff member blinked, confused. "Uh… should I tell the extermination squad or the librarians first? I think the name is listed in one of the arcane bestiaries."
Bob stepped forward calmly. "My Lord, if I may... what exactly is a eogekegdud?"
Magnus stared into the void for a moment. "I don't know. I just know it should not be."
Marianne squinted. "Is that even a creature or did the author just smash the keyboard and hope for the best?"
[A/N : shhh]
The staff member turned pale. "It looks like a flying kettle with legs. And it screams in boiling water."
Marianne gasped. "ITS A KETTLE?!"
Magnus slowly turned his head, expression unreadable. "...A kettle?"
Bob raised an eyebrow. "So, essentially, a teapot on legs."
"An angry teapot on legs," the staff clarified nervously. "It boiled Jenkins."
"Jenkins the janitor?" Marianne asked.
"No, Jenkins the head of security."
Everyone went silent.
"…Okay, that's mildly impressive," Magnus admitted.
"Do we have visuals?" Bob asked, already pulling a tiny notepad from his coat. "Any identifying traits aside from screaming water?"
The staff member nodded shakily. "Yes—It has a moustache. A steamy one. And… it keeps yelling 'I am the Brew of War.'"
Marianne wheezed.
Bob looked like he was physically restraining laughter. "Truly, a warrior among appliances."
Magnus sighed heavily. "Why is my life like this?"
"You're the Demon King," Marianne said helpfully. "Weird is in your job description."
"I signed up for naps and tea. Not kettle warfare."
"To be honest, you life sure is impressive. Lust always complained how she had nothing to do but sign the documents."
Marianne replied.
"How do you know all that?"
"Girls talk"
Magnus blinked. "Girls talk… about the workload of other Demon Kings?"
Marianne nodded smugly. "Yep. Over cookies and secrets. You wouldn't understand."
"Unbelievable…" Magnus muttered, rubbing his temples. "Now even my fellow Demon Kings are gossip material."
Bob flipped a page on his notepad. "To be fair, you are the laziest one. That alone makes you mysterious to the others."
"I'm not lazy. I'm energy-efficient," Magnus defended.
"Is that what we're calling it now?" Marianne smirked. "Because I saw you try to command a chair to roll you across the hallway yesterday."
"It should have obeyed," Magnus grumbled. "It's royal furniture."
"Sir, it was a stool."
"Royal stool."
A sharp crash echoed in the distance, followed by a very kettle-like shriek of war.
"BRREEEEWWW!!!"
Everyone flinched.
The staff member paled again. "It's getting closer."
Marianne looked at Magnus. "So, Commander of Couches. Got a plan?"
"…I say we give it tea and see if that calms it."
Bob adjusted his tie. "It boiled Jenkins."
Magnus sighed. "Fine. Plan B."
"And what's Plan B?" Marianne asked, skeptical.
"I throw you at it and run."
"You what?!"
"It's a solid strategy," Magnus said, voice entirely too serious. "Sacrifice the tea thief to distract the kettle."
Marianne stood up, cracking her knuckles. "You're lucky I get paid for this, but not enough to be thrown at a f*cking kett- ahem. May God forgive me," She corrected herself. "But not enough to be thrown at a kettle."