Under the soft glow of the room's enchanted lighting, a tense silence settled, broken only by the restless, rhythmic crash of waves against the rocks far below the tower. The air, thick with unspoken meaning, made every small sound resonate.
"You may soon be a widow. So we have a lot to discuss—" Queen Dahlia's voice was smooth, yet her words landed with the weight of granite.
Daniela offered the Queen a serene, small smile, a private question twinkling in her eyes. She wondered why the woman possessed such little faith in her own son. Jasper had already disclosed to Daniela the grim details of the approaching conflict, and she harbored no doubt that he would emerge victorious.
"Respectfully, Your Majesty," Daniela began, her voice steady and even, "Prince Jasper will not die."
Dahlia leaned back slightly in her ornate chair, her gaze sharp. "My son never shies away from a difficult conversation. He does, however, hurts those close to him. He told you of the battle that lies ahead."
Daniela nodded slowly, her jaw working as she chewed thoughtfully on a delicate, crustless sandwich, a crumb catching on the corner of her lip. She then lifted a teacup, the fine porcelain warm in her hand, and took a slow, deliberate swig of the spicy, sweet tea. A few lies, and even fewer secrets, existed between them, but what they had chosen to withhold from each other was, they had decided, inconsequential to their current arrangement.
"Do you love my son?" Queen Dahlia asked with unnerving straightforwardness. She had already observed that Daniela was not one to shy away from directness—likely another reason her son was so utterly enamored by her.
"Do you believe loving him is wrong?" Daniela countered, her eyes meeting the Queen's without flinching. She refused to be baited into silly games of emotional dissection.
"I do, for you! My son is a phenomenal boy," Dahlia declared, a flash of maternal pride in her eyes. "He is sweet, funny, and charming. His list of good qualities is not as long as his bad, but he is a good boy. He's the type that is easy to love. Maybe even easier to hate—"
Risking being beheaded for the interruption, Daniela cut across the Queen's pronouncement, her own voice taking on a sudden, firm edge. "You should have more faith in your son, My Queen. Jasper knows I do not want to be a widow. He's made me a promise. And I believe him."
Queen Dahlia's lips curved into a tiny, almost imperceptible smile. It was there, just a slight upturn at the corners. "Jasper's father, he made me promises too. When he entered that battle against the princes, he did not come home. He left me with one gift: Jasper. I wish for my son to live forever."
"I thought King Michael was Jasper's father?" Daniela's brows furrowed in genuine confusion, and a small, sharp click was audible in the quiet room as she swallowed hard. She recalled Jasper calling Dahlia his mother but always referring to Michael as his 'King Father.' Yet, she had never dwelled on the discrepancy.
"The Demon World must always be governed by a demon," Dahlia explained, her voice softening with the memory. "I was young, and my husband was dead, and my son was yet to be born. I was then to marry my husband's brother, Michael."
"How does succession work, exactly?"
Daniela asked, setting her teacup down with a light 'clink' against the saucer. She wanted to ensure she was positioned most auspiciously, no matter the outcome.
Dahlia let out a soft, throaty chuckle, her smile lines deepening as she raised a hand to gently touch her vibrant red hair, her fingers moving to adjust the jewel-encrusted crown nestled there. "Are you not the one telling me to have a bit more faith?"
"I don't ask because of the battle," Daniela spoke bluntly, feeling as if unfettered honesty wasn't a problem in Dahlia's presence. "If Prince Jasper is to die, you better believe it will be by my hands—when he disappoints me. Not because of some silly prince in a faraway kingdom."
"You would threaten my son in front of me?" Dahlia asked, the temperature in the room beginning to subtly warm as her innate fire magic spurred to a restless, low-burning life around her.
"It's not a threat! It is a promise," Daniela clarified. "If your son betrays me, if he betrays what we have agreed upon, I would kill him.
As he would do the same to me." Daniela I would soon be family with Queen Dahlia. It was best that they understood each other from now.
"There is an agreement between you two?" It didn't shock Dahlia; she knew every demon loved a deal, and her son was no different. "What are the terms?"
Daniela offered a coy, secret smile, lifting the teacup back to her lips to take another sip. "Just our expectations of what married life will look like. What we are and are not willing to accept. Hard lines, soft lines. Nothing too spectacular, Your Majesty."
"I am glad that your expectations will be kept within reason, then. Though it is unofficial, I welcome you to our family," Dahlia said, the warmth in the room receding slightly. "It will be quite interesting to have another woman around."
"Are there many women in the Demon Realm?" Daniela asked. She knew the birth rate of females was significantly lower than males among demons, but she wasn't sure if it was so low that Dahlia was almost by herself.
"You will soon see," Dahlia replied, her tone slightly ominous.
Daniela reached for another sugar cookie, but stopped when Dahlia rose fluidly from her seat, prompting Daniela to immediately and respectfully do the same.
"I have enjoyed our chat, Princess. I shall invite you again."
Daniela bowed deeply from the waist, her eyes remaining downcast before she straightened and slowly, gracefully retreated from the Queen's presence. Now that she had been dismissed, she made her way back to the Princesses' Chambers.
The Princesses' Chambers were a cacophony of nervous energy. The women were usually engaged in private pursuits—practicing their magic or angling for an encounter with one of the princes. But today, here they all were, milling about, sitting, and standing patiently in the stuffy room, a collective air of anticipation hanging over them.
Daniela's lips curved into a satisfied grin as she entered the room. She glided past the gathering, making a beeline for her vanity station, her loyal maids trailing close behind her.
"Princess Daniela, you look so beautiful!"
"Princess Daniela, your skin is flawless."
"I am very rich, name your price! I want the date with Prince Eric!"
"I, too, am rich, Princess!"
"If I am married to Prince Landon, we will enact free trade between our realms!"
They all kept spewing words, a desperate, sycophantic chorus. Daniela watched them through the gilded looking glass her maid, Ida, had magically stretched and polished from a sheet of reflective material. They clamored behind her, desperate for her to bestow upon them a chance at a prince's attention.
"There is no reason to grovel," Daniela announced, her voice cutting clearly through the noise. "I already know who I would like to go on these dates."
The simpering crowd seemed to visibly deflate and then scatter at her words, no longer interested in begging at her heels now that the opportunity felt completely lost to them.
Turning her plush velvet chair to face the room, Daniela scanned the remaining women, her eyes catching a few who hadn't even stepped in her general direction. "Princess Fox," Daniela called out to the particularly frigid woman. Fox's head popped up immediately, her expression wary.
Daniela remained in her chair, waiting for Fox to traverse the room to her. "What do you want?" Fox asked, her tone as icy as ever.
Daniela knew Fox was interested in Eric, but Fox was the type who could truly enamor someone like Landon. She was strong but possessed soft edges; she could be tamed. Crucially, she would never let anyone take advantage of Landon. Daniela knew the two would mix well. If Daniela was ultimately the architect of Fox's happiness, it would be a definite bonus. Though Daniela knew Landon's own fierce loyalty would be enough, this was just extra insurance.
"Would you like the date with Prince Landon?" she asked. Daniela noticed how Fox's face fell momentarily, as if she had expected the name 'Eric' instead. Eric would never go for Fox, Daniela knew. She was too domineering and aggressive in a way that would not resonate with his need for a completely submissive wife.
"But I am interested in Prince Eric," Fox insisted, a hint of melancholy in her voice. It was an opportunity, for sure, but not the one she wanted.
"I know Prince Eric very well. We grew up together. I know him inside and out," Daniela said, her voice dropping to a persuasive murmur. "And because of this, I know that you will never sway his heart! Your personality is completely unfit for him. I say this as someone who hopes he finds his soulmate. But I do not believe it will be you.
Prince Landon and you would be far better suited. But the choice is yours."
Fox wasn't sure if Daniela was trying to trick her or help her; she couldn't discern the motive. But she wouldn't give up an opportunity. As much as she might dislike one, turning down a chance was far more foolish than accepting one she wasn't intrigued by.
"Thank you, Princess Daniela. I accept!" With regal, rigid poise, she gave a stiff nod before walking back to her own area to chat with her maids.
"Princess Ashley," Daniela called next. She noted how the girl's shoulders sagged and how she looked ultimately uninterested and angry to a degree.
"Prince Eric. Would you like to go on a date with him?"
Ashley let out a deep sigh and simply nodded her head. What was the point in fighting Daniela? They always lost, and Ashley was starting to realize it just didn't make sense to fight for a prince who had already declared himself for Daniela. It was time to move on.
"If you are yourself, he will like you. When you see his mother, tell her of your accomplishments. Every last one," Daniela instructed the dejected Ashley. "She will be impressed, and so will he. But do not tell him your accomplishments. Just talk, as you would to your mates."
Ashley reminded Daniela of her old self—not completely, but there were parts of her that were so meek and compliant, yet held an underlying, barely contained fury. It reminded Daniela of who she used to be before she had traded every last semblance of light for pure darkness. She realized monsters rarely failed.