CHAPTER NINETEEN
"Who did it?" Damiel asked, his voice low and controlled.
For a fraction of a second, Reyna hesitated. Then she lifted her gaze just enough to speak.
"A demon servant," she said quietly. "Vaelith."
The moment the name left her lips, the atmosphere in the chamber shifted. It was subtle but undeniable—like a blade being drawn from its sheath. Damiel's expression remained calm, almost indifferent, yet something dangerous stirred behind his pale silver eyes.
"Stay here," he said.
Before Reyna could react, he had already turned away, his long strides carrying him out of the room.
She remained standing exactly where he left her. Her injured leg began to ache more insistently now, the pain sharpening as the rush faded. For a moment, she considered sitting, but stopped herself just as quickly. He had not told her to.
The rich scent of the food on the table twisted her stomach painfully. It growled, loud enough to embarrass her. She sighed softly, shifting her weight onto her good leg and gripping the back of a chair to steady herself. She stood in silence, waiting.
When Damiel entered the kitchen, time itself seemed to freeze.
Every demon inside went rigid. Fear crawled through the room like a living thing. They remembered the last time Prince Damiel had stood there—the screams, the flames, the way Hell itself had answered his wrath as demons burned alive for defying him.
This time, he was quieter.
Colder.
His presence alone pressed down on them, heavy and suffocating. His silver gaze swept across the room with slow, deliberate precision before settling on Inez.
"Inez'', Damiel called gently, "who's Vaelith," he said calmly, yet the sound of her name leaving his mouth was like death calling unto her.
Vaelith's body began to shake violently the instant she heard her name. Sweat gathered at her brow, panic seizing her chest. Inez glanced at Damiel once confused yet composed, then pointed without hesitation.
Damiel turned his gaze to Vaelith.
He walked toward her at an unhurried pace, each step measured and merciless. Before he even reached her, her knees gave out. She collapsed to the floor, trembling.
"Your Highness—"
"Do you know what you did?" Damiel asked, his tone eerily even.
She shook her head frantically. "No, Your Highness."
"You touched what is mine," he said. "Someone whose fate only I decide."
Her breath hitched. "Never," she pleaded. "I would never dare."
She was not foolish. Not after what had happened to Serapha.
"The human," Damiel said.
Vaelith stiffened completely.
"I was wrong," she sobbed. "Please forgive me. Please, Your Highness."
Damiel crouched before her. His eyes glowed faintly as he slipped effortlessly into her mind.
The truth unfolded instantly.
Images surged forward—Reyna being tripped, shoved, mocked, drowned. Serapha laughing. Other servants joining in. Over and over again.
Damiel's hand curled into a fist.
I was merciful, he thought darkly. I gave that traitor an easy death. He said referring to Serapha.
He searched deeper, past fear and regret, until he found what Vaelith treasured most.
Her face.
Her beauty.
Her jealousy—sharp and poisonous, all of it directed at Reyna.
A slow, dangerous smile curved his lips.
"Roan. Kael."
The two demons appeared instantly, summoned by ancient command.
"Take her," Damiel said as he stood. "And those three."
He pointed. The remaining demons dropped to their knees, crying and begging.
"I will deal with them personally," he continued. "They will learn what it means to touch what is mine."
"Yes, Your Highness," Roan and Kael answered together.
Screams echoed through the kitchen as Vaelith and the others were dragged away.
Damiel turned and left without another word.
Near the doorway, Inez stood frozen—then allowed herself a wide, unhidden smile. She did not enjoy cruelty, but she understood its necessity.
In the corner, the demon Reyna had once noticed watching her before Damiel's first visit to the kitchen offered a small, satisfied smile before calmly returning to her duties.
When Damiel was gone, the kitchen erupted into whispers and shaken breaths. Relief washed over those who realized how narrowly they had escaped sharing the same fate.
Back in his chambers, Damiel opened the door.
Reyna straightened instantly. Her leg trembled violently—she had been standing far too long.
He barely crossed the room before her strength failed her completely.
She fell forward.
Her hands pressed against his chest as he caught her by instinct, standing still as his eyes widened slightly.
This human… she surprised him every time.
"I'm sorry," Reyna whispered, trying to step back.
Her leg cramped sharply, refusing to obey her.
Without hesitation, Damiel lifted her.
Her eyes widened as he carried her to the bed and set her gently on its edge. He turned to the chest beside it, retrieving herbs, oil, and a clean cloth.
He knelt on one kneel in front of her, and began tending to her injury with careful, practiced movements.
Reyna could only stare at him, curiously, as she winced in pain.
Was this truly the same Prince Damiel—the one who burned demons without remorse, who executed werewolves in public?
Even he seemed unsettled by his own actions. He dismissed the thought quickly, telling himself it was nothing more than repayment for yesterday.
Azaelth's mocking sneer echoed faintly in his mind.
When he finished bandaging her leg, her stomach growled loudly.
She clutched it in embarrassment.
Damiel glanced at her hand on her stomach, then at her face filled with embarrassment "Eat," he said, gesturing to the table.
She shook her head instinctively.
"Do you dare disobey me?" he asked coolly.
"No, Your Highness," she said quickly.
She stood and tried to walk—only for her feet to leave the floor again.
Damiel carried her once more, pulled out a chair, and set her down.
She hesitated, unsure what to do next, she couldn't possibly use his cutlery, and bowls, what would he eat, if she ate this.
"Go on," he said, as if reading her thoughts.
He rang the bell. A moment later, there was a knock.
"Come in," he said quietly.
Inez entered with another tray of dishes. Reyna wondered how she had known, food was what Damiel had wanted. Inez smiled when she saw Reyna seated, her leg bandaged, she served the food before leaving with a broader smile than before.
Damiel sat at the head of the table.
They ate in silence.
It was the first time Prince Damiel had ever shared a meal with another.
Reyna finished every bite. Damiel barely touched his own food, watching her instead.
"Such a vicious appetite," Azaelth murmured.
Damiel slid his plate toward her. When she hesitated, he ordered her to eat.
When she finished, he moved to ring the bell—but Reyna stopped him. She didn't want the servants to start a rumor. She didn't want more attention. Or more suffering.
"If anyone bullies you again," Damiel said coldly, "tell me. No matter who it is. If I find out myself, I will spare neither them—nor you."
She nodded silently.
As she gathered the trays and limped toward the door, she wondered what he had done to Vaelith. Surely, she thought, it could not have been much. Perhaps only a warning.
Damiel's eyes followed her until she disappeared from sight.
The room felt colder when she left.
Empty.
And the realization unsettled him more than it should have.