Chapter 10 - Volume 1 Finale
Standing naked in my bedroom with my back pressed against the wall, lacking even a towel to hide behind, I fought to maintain my composure as I took in the sight before me.

Sylvanna stood in the center of the room. Combining the best traits of slime and girl, she actually cut a rather striking figure, with a delicate little nose, soft-looking lips, and bright pink eyes, all carved in perfect detail from the same pink gelatinous slime. Her body mimicked that of a human above the waist, including her currently uncovered tits which displayed a size and perkiness to rival my own. The illusion dropped below the waist however, as what would be legs had instead formed into a single amorphous base. A tentacle, protruding from the base of her body, was currently wrapped tightly around Bailey's snout.

Abigail, standing behind Sylvanna, was mouthing "sorry," but I ignored her. My focus was locked on Bailey, who was lying on the ground, pawing desperately at the tendril that constrained her. Every time her claws cut through the slime it simply reconstructed itself before it could snap, yet Bailey refused to stop seemingly desperate to escape. It took all my willpower not to freeze the tentacle solid and break it off by force. As it was, I could feel my blood begin to boil.

"Wow, Queen Devilla…" Sylvanna smirked. "I guess the rumors were true! You really are showing everyone a whole new side of yourself. And it seems we're getting quite a view…"

"Let her go," I commanded, ignoring the barb and snarling at the slime while pointing to Bailey.

"The monster?" Sylvanna arched a translucent eyebrow. "That's what we're starting with? No throwing a fit at me for walking into your room? No screaming at your maid for daring to let me in, even though she couldn't stop me if she tried?"

"I said to let her go, Sylvanna. Last warning."

"Fine, fine," Sylvanna conceded, waving her hand dismissively. "No need to snap, it was just a little security measure. Your stupid monster kept trying to eat me." The tentacle around Bailey's snout receded, disappearing entirely into Sylvanna's body. "Now can we talk?"

"In a moment," I told Sylvanna through gritted teeth, before moving to kneel down next to Bailey. I stroked the wolf's snout, traveling from her nose all the way up to her horn.

"You did good," I whispered, even knowing that she couldn't understand me. I wanted to reach out to her telepathically, but I still hadn't tested whether I could pull that off without ingesting one of her hairs. Experimenting on myself was one thing, but I wouldn't risk anyone else.

Even though Bailey couldn't understand me, she seemed to take comfort in my tone and touch. She stopped whining, and instead licked my hand and wagged her tail.

Once I was certain Bailey was fine, I rose to my feet and turned back to Sylvanna, narrowing my eyes at the slime girl. "That 'monster' you attacked happens to be a demon, and a friend. She was simply trying to protect me from an unwelcome intruder."

"Oooh, unwelcome! Do you see how harsh she is with me, Abby?" Sylvanna turned her head to pout at my maid, ignoring my glare. "And she's such a bad liar, too. I've memorized the census report for the entire tower, and we don't have a single horned wolf girl in it. I've never even heard of the species!"

"I'm not lying," I snapped before Abigail could respond. "She's a new resident, and a new species. She was born to an actual horned wolf, as it happens. I trust you know what that means?"

"That you're a really bad liar?" Sylvanna shrugged. "You expect me to believe you just happened to prove the origin of monster girls while you were out on your little vacation?"

"Vacation? I was collecting salt!"

"For three days?" Sylvanna countered, hands perched on her gelatinous hips. "Sounds like a vacation to me. Though, wait..." She mused, placing a hand against her chin, and stroking the tip with her thumb. "Do you still call it a vacation if you weren't working to begin with? I mean, you don't really do anything, do you?"

"That's…" Not fair. That was what I wanted to say. But it actually was, wasn't it? I was supposed to be the queen, the ruler of my people, and yet I did so little to actually lead them.

I wasn't alone in that, mind you. One of the few lessons I'd actually taken to heart was how demon queens throughout the ages had delegated the work of ruling. Some said it was a tradition set by Luci herself, who felt that divine beings had no business governing the minutiae of mortal lives. We still wielded absolute authority of course, but we rarely used it.

In my case, I'd given the power of rule to my generals. The exact nature of their duties varied - for example I had Yara on the bottom floors, managing our food supply, just as Mifa and her harpies were theoretically in charge of scouting. Regardless of what else they handled, however, by and large each of the demon generals acted akin to human nobles, running ten floors apiece.

None of that was an issue, at least for the moment. While part of me thought I should try for a constitutional monarchy, I knew better than to uproot our current system while we were still on the verge of extinction. The problem was that no matter how much a queen delegated, someone still had to oversee everything. Whether it was warding off corruption, mediating disputes between generals, or simply signing things into law, someone still had to wield the actual power of a queen.

That was where Sylvanna came in. Since there was no distinction between a slime girl's body and brain, Sylvanna was able to turn her entire being towards figuring out complex problems. On top of that, she could split herself into copies and merge again, allowing her to do the job of an entire team by herself. It made her a near ideal administrator for the tower. Absolutely perfect, except for one tiny, little detail.

Sylvanna, the only slime in the tower, absolutely loathed work. She was a hedonistic slut by nature, desiring nothing but sex, food, and drink. She indulged constantly. Even as half of her body was devoted to working, and another third to sleeping, the remainder was split in four to ensure she could participate in some form of debauchery at all times. As such, Sylvanna was working, eating, sleeping, fucking, and drinking all at the same time, twenty four hours a day, seven days a week.

I couldn't even imagine how exhausting that had to be. That was why she took every opportunity to belittle me. And how was I supposed to protest? How was I supposed to call her words unfair, when her hard work was the only reason I had so much free time?

"That's not fair!"

My head snapped up as the words I chose not to speak echoed through the room. Abigail, visible through Sylvanna, had one hand on her hip and a scowl on her lips.

"That's not fair," she repeated when Sylvanna turned around to face her. "Devilla is trying. She got salt for the whole tower, and a new vegetable called 'potatoes,' which is actually pretty damn delicious fried. And okay, there were definitely better uses of her time, but she's trying, and you don't get to just come in here and tear her down like that!"

"Feisty," Sylvanna jabbed, crossing her arms beneath her voluptuous chest. "But you should try defending literally anyone else. Maybe check the dungeons? You'll find murderers with more empathy for their fellow demons than that girl."

"That's-"

"Enough!" I interrupted, stepping forward and slashing my hand through the air to mark an end to the conversation. "It's appreciated, Abigail. Honestly. But you aren't going to convince Sylvanna of anything like this."

"Did you two practice this?" Sylvanna accused, looking back and forth between Abigail and me. "Let me guess - she's tired of me calling her out as a selfish, self-centered brat, so she's making you pretend she actually has a good heart or some such malarky. Probably made you memorize a whole script, right? Oooh, did she complain about not having enough lines, even though she wrote it?"

"Is there a purpose behind your being here?" I asked, trying and failing to keep the frustration from my voice. "It must be important if I'm meeting with all ten feet of you." Saying it was rare for all of Sylvanna to gather in one place would be a drastic understatement. I hadn't seen her whole in years, not since she'd first taken the job of administrator.

"Really?" Sylvanna asked, stretching out her malleable torso so that she could peer down at me from up high. "You can't even guess? Not even a vague hunch? I mean, whatever could the tower administrator want with the queen? It's not like she was promised anything!" She was shouting by the end, her voice laced with sarcasm.

"Promised…? Ah!" My eyes widened with sudden understanding. A promise made between me and Sylvanna? There was only one that came to mind. It was the reason she'd agreed to become my administrator in the first place, despite her hatred of work. It was also part of why I'd been avoiding her.

"You promised me you'd free my people, Devilla! You went through the Rite of Insight. You learned holy magic! And I've done everything you've asked. So why are my people still under the Heroine's spell?" She leaned further forward with each word till her back was craned forward at a truly ridiculous angle, taking up much of the room.

"You know I hate it when you loom over me," I muttered, crossing my arms over my chest, and pointedly looking away. I'm sure I looked like a petulant child to everyone in the room. My words certainly suited that image, but the sad truth was that I was simply trying to buy time to think.

Sylvanna's people, the Slime Girls. A long-lived race that rarely propagated, despite being quite good at it. From what I'd been told, they used to celebrate a species-wide holiday. Once every fifty years, all the slimes on the continent would gather together and merge, sharing their thoughts and experiences with the entirety of their population. For one glorious day, the many became one.

It was on that day of union, twenty-one years ago, that the previous Heroine made her move. According to the single eyewitness report, she'd snuck her way into the festivities, strode up to the merged slimes, and with a few whispered words turned the entire great being to stone.

Sylvanna, too young to participate in the merge, was granted a temporary reprieve so that she could spread word of what had been done to her people. Frightened, she came straight to the tower to tell my mother what had happened. And my mother, who had just barely finished giving birth to me, immediately flew off to fight the Heroine and save those poor, petrified slimes.

And that was how she died.

For a long time, some part of me blamed Sylvanna for that. It wasn't her fault, obviously. My mother knew what she was stepping into from the start, I'm sure. But I think that anger was what led me to do what I did - as poor an excuse as it was.

I had dangled the freedom of Sylvanna's people before her. I told her that I would only turn them back if she helped me maintain my rule. I abused her, in a way that I'm not sure can ever be forgiven. And now here I was trying to ignore the problem simply because I couldn't fix it. Sylvanna was completely right about my selfishness.

I wanted to set things right, of course. I needed to set things right. But reversing petrification was holy magic; I couldn't cast it without knowing the right words.

"I thought you'd be used to getting loomed over," Sylvanna remarked, interrupting my thoughts. "You know, considering how short you are." She twisted about without moving her base, easily shifting her upper half a hundred and eighty degrees to look at Abigail, before pointing a finger back in my direction. "Did you know she's only five foot three? It took me a while to notice because she's almost never out of heels."

"I am five foot four and you know it!" I snapped.

"And there you have it," Sylvanna declared, pressing one arm into her waist and taking an impossibly deep bow even as she turned back toward me. "The spoiled princess. The real Devilla Satanne. Good to see you drop the act! Now, tell me why you still haven't freed my people. Unless you'd prefer me taking an extended break from running this damn tower?"

For a long moment, I stood silent, quietly turning the problem before me over and over in my mind. Sylvanna was the force that single-handedly kept the tower running. She was threatening to quit if I didn't do what she wanted. I couldn't tell her no, for both moral and practical reasons, yet if I said yes she'd find out my impotence immediately.

"I… can't," I confessed, seeing no alternative. "I messed up the Rite of Insight. I don't know the spell."

Lying would be pointless. Sylvanna would see straight through any fib I told, and I didn't want to tell one besides. The only way out of this situation, the only way to make up for my past actions, was to be honest with Sylvanna. Then maybe, just maybe, we could work toward a solution together.

"...You don't know the spell?" Sylvanna repeated, her voice barely above a whisper. "Are you telling me that after a lifetime of 'I'll learn everything I need to know from the Rite,' you messed it up?"

"That's right," I confirmed, nodding solemnly. "But I think we can still save your people. We just need to work together a little while longer."

"Right. By which you mean I should work for you a little bit longer, and you should… what? Goof off? Fuck around? Find some 'potatoes'?"

"I told you, that's not fair," Abigail protested before I could respond. "I don't know your full history, but whatever Devilla did to you in the past she's changed. I know what she used to be like, but she's honestly trying her best to do better."

"Still defending our Queen?" Sylvanna challenged. "Don't tell me you actually believe that crap? People like Devilla don't change. They don't get better. That would require them admitting something was wrong to begin with."

"Holy hell, you're almost as stubborn about this as she is," Abigail groaned, before jabbing at Sylvanna with her finger. "Devilla realized something was wrong with her behavior and started making an effort to change it, which is more than I can say for you!"

"That's-"

"Enough!" I interrupted, raising my voice to cut through their argument. Both figures turned to me. Abigail seemed surprised by my outburst; Sylvanna merely looked smug.

"Can't stand being left out of the conversation, can you?" she sniped, smirking triumphantly. "Even when it's all about you to begin with. Same Devilla as always - eternally trying to be the center of attention."

"Believe that if you wish. I deserve whatever you have to say about me, and worse. What I did was wrong, and I am sorry. Deeply and terribly so. But arguing isn't going to bring your people back."

"And neither are you," Sylvanna snapped. "You already said you don't know the spell."

"No, I don't, but I can get it." I noticed Abigail's eyes widening in surprise, but I chose to ignore it. I knew I was taking a gamble here, but if there was another choice I wasn't smart enough to find it.

Besides, Sylvanna deserved to hear the truth.

"You can get it?" she demanded, suddenly jerking forward so her eyes (or what passed for them) were even with mine. "How? The only one allowed to speak the holy tongue is the demon queen, and you just told me you don't know it!"

"That's not exactly true, though. The Heroine knows it as well." And the church, I assumed, since someone had to teach her. The humans probably didn't have a law against writing down the holy tongue. I wasn't entirely sure why we demons did. Another detail that would have been explained by the Rite of Insight, no doubt.

"...You're joking." The look in Sylvanna's gelatinous eyes was one of pure disdain, as if she were looking at a particularly ugly bug. "You want to make a deal with one of those genocidal maniacs? She'd give you a spell, alright! One to turn them into mush!"

"The current heroine isn't like that!" I objected, stepping closer to Sylvanna, until our noses were almost touching.

I expected the slime girl to move backwards. Instead, she morphed her hand into a tentacle to wrap around my neck, lifted my unfortunately light body up before I had a chance to react, and slammed me against my bedroom wall. I found myself suddenly at eye level with Sylvanna, whose malleable face was twisted with rage. Even Bailey, crouched on the floor, seemed momentarily stunned by the suddenness of it.

"What do you know about it?" Sylvanna demanded. "You've never met one of them before. The pure contempt in that human's eyes when she looked at me - the way she talked about petrifying my people like it was just something to check off her to-do list. Those monsters have no respect for demon lives!"

Bailey, recovering from her shock, got to her feet and released a low growl, her lips pulling back to reveal her fangs. It looked like she was about to attack Sylvanna, despite knowing it would be futile, but Abigail stepped forward and wrapped her arms around the wolf. That, combined with a stern look from me, was enough to stop her.

"You're wrong," I told Sylvanna, my feet dangling beneath me as I glared back at her. "Maybe the last Heroine was like that. In fact, I'm sure most of them were. But I've met the current Heroine, and I can tell you now that she is different. I can convince her to help. I just need time."

"You've met her?" Sylvanna asked. Her eyes, like Abigail's, had no pupils. They were merely shallow copies, created from Sylvanna's slime. Yet despite that, perhaps because of my experience with Abigail, I felt certain that Sylvanna's eyes were boring into mine, fury flickering behind them. "You've met her!? What are you planning? Are you going to betray us? Hoping you can live a cushy life if you just turn the rest of us over?"

"Do you truly think so little of me?" I hissed, appalled. I might have been lazy, selfish, and even cruel, but even at my worst I had never taken my subjects' lives that lightly. I'd never ordered an execution, or a public whipping. Even my threat about Sylvanna's people had been nothing more than a bluff.

But that didn't make a difference to Sylvanna, did it? She believed that bluff. Of course she'd believe that I was capable of this too. What had she ever seen that would convince her otherwise?

"Sylvanna," I breathed, laying my hand upon the tendril that was wrapped about my neck. "I did something terrible. I'm sure I betrayed whatever trust you had in your ruler that day. And I know I have no right to your forgiveness. But even though I have no right to ask it, I'm begging you to trust me. Please - help me save your people."

"She means it!" Abigail called out, rising to her feet and stepping between me and Sylvanna. She placed a hand against my thigh, and squeezed it faintly in what I took to be a sign of support. "I know you don't believe it, but she really has changed. She's trying to broker peace with the Heroine, to end the war and save our people."

For a long moment, Sylvanna didn't speak. She didn't even move, her gelatinous form frozen in place. She simply held me in place against the wall, staring into my eyes. Then, without warning, she dropped me to the floor, her tendril receding into the shape of a hand.

"Help you save my people, huh…?" Sylvanna murmured, staring down at me. "Those are the same exact words you used when you made me your administrator. But for some insane reason, it almost sounds like you mean it this time. There must be something seriously wrong with me for even asking this, but can you give me a single reason to trust you?"

"Not a one," I confessed. "There's nothing I can say that can possibly counter my actions so far. But I will save your people, Sylvanna. Even if you don't help me, I'll still find a way. But it will be a lot easier with your help than without."

"...Either you're a better liar than I gave you credit for, or you actually mean it. Alright. I'll work as your administrator for one more month. But you'd better have some slimes ready to replace me, after - or I'll find a way to make you regret it."

"One month," I agreed, looking up at her from my position on the floor. It was a tight deadline. I wasn't sure I could get Lucy to trust me in such a short time, but if all I needed was a depetrification spell, then I thought I might be able to make do.

"I'm going to want progress reports, too," Sylvanna warned. "I'll assign four percent of myself to be your liaison."

"Four percent?" I asked. "That's it?" A slime's body and brain were one and the same. When fully assembled, Sylvanna could handle equations with the speed of a supercomputer, and could recall information she'd heard once several months ago. At four percent of her capacity, she could almost manage basic arithmetic, and could just barely remember her own name.

Sylvanna snorted. "You're lucky I can spare anything. Most of my selves have better things to do."

I opened my mouth to protest, then forced myself to close it. She had more than four percent to spare, I knew. There were at least four clones of that size eating, fucking, and drinking at nearly all times, but Sylvanna likely wasn't willing to sacrifice what stress relief she had just to keep an eye on me. It would be a pain to deal with only four percent of her, but I'd have to make do.

"Very well," I conceded. "You can send her over whenever you need a progress report. But if we're going to pull this off, I'll need your help normalizing my occasional absences from the tower. Tell everyone I'm out searching for resources, or some such. I'll make an attempt to visit back whenever possible, but I don't want anyone run ragged covering for me." I glanced at Abigail with those last words, and she returned an appreciative smile..

"Do you really think you should be asking me for anything right now?"

"No," I admitted. "But I don't think I have much choice. You're the only one with enough influence to convince everyone there's nothing wrong with my absences. And I'll need to be absent quite frequently if I'm to pull this off within a month."

Sylvanna glowered at me for a long moment, gelatinous lips pressed into a thin line. Then, slowly, she nodded. "Fine. If you really want to make it work though, you should learn teleportation magic and at least spend your nights here." She paused, squinting at me. "Assuming that isn't too much work?"

"I'm sure I'll manage. Thank you for the suggestion." I kept my voice polite, if a little flat, choosing not to rise to Sylvanna's taunt. "Now, if you don't mind, Abigail and I have some matters to attend to."

"Uh-huh. I'll leave you to the 'hard work' of being queen," Sylvanna jabbed, turning toward the door. "Do try not to strain yourself!"

I waited until the door clicked closed, then let out a sigh of relief. "I honestly wasn't sure what was going to happen, for a little bit there… if she chose to pull her support from the tower without giving me time to find a replacement, it would have been utter chaos."

"Did you really use her people against her?" Abigail asked, judgement in her eyes.

"Yes," I confessed, staring at the ground as my face burned hot. "I suppose that makes me even worse than you thought I was."

"A little bit," Abigail shrugged. "But you're not who you used to be."

"I told you that recovering my past life memories didn't change who I was, deep down. I might have learned some empathy, but I'm still the same woman who did that, and more."

"No, you're not," Abigail insisted. "I'm not the same succubus I was a week ago, and I didn't get a lifetime of memories shoved into my head. People change, Devilla, whatever Sylvanna says. You just did it a lot quicker than most."

"...Do you really think I deserve forgiveness?" I asked, a waver in my voice as I turned back to meet Abigail's gaze.

"I don't know." Her response was immediate and uncomfortably blunt. "I forgave you. And I think if you let others get to know you, they might forgive you too. But it's all pretty worthless if you never get around to forgiving yourself."

"...Perhaps after I've saved our people, then," I told her, doing my best to smile. The result was flimsy, at best. "Speaking of - I suppose I'll need to find a teacher to help me learn the teleportation spell… and I'll need to get some supplies together for the road… and a large bag I can pretend to be pulling it out of since I can't let people find out about the Empty Bag… Perhaps I should start with finding a piece of paper, and making a to-do list."

"There's paper in your desk. I'll work on finding you a magic teacher, you make... the... " Abigail paused, swaying and then stumbling toward the bedroom wall, thrusting out an arm just in time to catch herself.

"Are you alright?" I asked, pulling myself to my feet and rushing to her side.

Abigail lifted a hand to stop me. "I'm fine," she promised, despite not looking it. Even her tail was drooping.

"What's wrong?" I demanded, side-stepping her upheld hand and reaching out to feel her forehead.

"What are you doing?" she asked, trying to bat aside my hand, but only managing to thump weakly upon my forearm.

"Checking you for a fever." She wasn't hot, to my relief, though her cheeks looked a bit warm.

"For a what?" The confused frown on Abigail's face bewildered me in turn.

"...Right. We're demons." There were fairy tales about magical plagues afflicting our people, but that was about it. We didn't suffer from mundane things like stuffy noses or fevers. It was a good thing too, considering the entirety of demonkind was living in a single tower. If humans tried it, they'd likely be wiped out by a plague.

"Look, I'm fine," Abigail promised, ducking down to escape my hand. "I'm just a little hungry."

"Hungry?" I asked, tilting my head to the side in confusion. "Did you not eat enough fries?"

"Not that kinda hungry," Abigail corrected me, with a terse smile. "I just haven't had time to stop by the brothel for a few days."

"...Because you were covering for me?" I asked, realization beginning to dawn. Abigail told me when she started the job that she needed to feed on sexual energy to survive. I wanted to scold the succubus for prioritizing work over eating, but it was my carelessness that put her in such a position to begin with. If not for her hard work, I might have come back to a tower awash in panic.

"I'll be fine," Abigail insisted. "I'll just head down to my mom's place now and grab a snack. Assuming that's okay with you?"

"It is not."

"Thanks. I- Wait, what?" Abigail stared at me in confusion, then scowled. "Devilla, this isn't a great time for jokes. I really need to eat."

"Indeed, you do," I agreed. "Which is why you aren't going anywhere until you've fed. You're in no condition to fly down to your floor, and I certainly have no intention of letting you walk the distance when you're too weak to even stay upright."

"You can't be serious," Abigail protested, trying to move past me to get to the door.

"As the grave," I informed her, deliberately blocking her. "If you have someone in mind, give me a name and I'll bring them to you. Or if anyone will do, I'll ask among the maids. But if you insist on going down to the brothel, then know that I intend to carry you the whole way."

"I'm fine, Devilla," Abigail maintained, glowering. However, the angry expression broke apart before I could even respond, and she let out a loud sigh. "You're ridiculous to deal with, Devilla. You know that? But if you're that concerned, you should really see to my health personally, don't you think?"

"This isn't the time to tease!" I complained, scowling at Abigail. "I'm worried about your health!"

"Who's teasing?" She was still smiling, but it now came off as smug to me. "Didn't you promise we could have sex whenever I got hungry, back when I took this job?"

"...You're serious?"

Instead of responding, Abigail bent forward, a gleam in her eye. For a moment I thought she intended it as a bow, but then suddenly her lips were brushing against my nipple. The pink peak stiffened instantly at the contact, and a smirk flitted across Abigail's face. That was all the warning I had before her lips closed around the tip of my breast and began to suck.

It felt divine. The feeling of her wet mouth on my nipple, pulling at my perky tit, was enough to make me moan. I had to bite my lip when she parted to prevent myself from whimpering at the loss. At the last moment, just before her lips left me, she pinched my nipple between her teeth and tugged, drawing out a sharp cry.

"I'm always serious about sex," Abigail smirked, before shoving me away. . "Now go lay on the bed."

"And why are you ordering me around?" I demanded, crossing my arms defensively in front of my chest. "I'm your queen, you know."

"What? Do I need to beat you in battle if I want to top?" Abigail laughed. "I'm a domme in the brothel. If you want to feed me, you're going to have to do a little role reversal."

"...Fine. For your health," I grumbled, before marching over to my closet and opening the door. "Bailey, inside. There are some things you do not need to witness." Thankfully my closet was as large as most people's bedrooms. The sheer amount of clothes I had made it feel a little cramped, but it was only an illusion.

Despite that, the sad look Bailey shot me still made me feel like the biggest monster on Solla for suggesting it. For a moment, I wavered. Would it really be that bad letting the wolf watch?

Of course it would be! She wasn't even really a wolf.

But still….

"In, Bailey!" Abigail ordered, interrupting my thoughts with a snap of her fingers.

Bailey reacted instantly, to the tone if not the words. She all but ran into the closet, disappearing into a thicket of skirts. I closed the door behind her with a sigh.

"Don't act like your job is done," Abigail growled at me. "I told you to lay on the bed, not put the dog out."

"You couldn't have seriously expected me to do anything while Bailey was in the room?" I protested. Never mind that I had wavered on that very point only a moment prior.

"I expect you to follow instructions and to let me handle things." Abigail stepped closer as she spoke, stopping a few inches in front of me. She reached out a slender hand and ran it through my white hair. It felt pleasant, until, without warning, she grabbed hold of my tresses and tugged my head back, sending my gaze to the ceiling. Closing the distance between us, she whispered in my ear, "Right now, I'm in charge."

A shiver ran through me at those words. It was the first time anyone had ever spoken to me like that. To be honest, it was making me a little wet.

"Very well," I consented. "Release me, and I'll walk to the bed."

Abigail yanked on my hair again in response. It dealt no actual damage to me, but my scalp was still sensitive enough for it to hurt.

"No walking," she ordered. "Autonomy is for good girls who do what they're told. You obviously can't be trusted."

"Then what do you propose?" I asked, bemused. "Sex on the floor?"

Abigail slid her hand down the length of my hair, stopping around my mid back. At the same time, she moved her other hand down beneath my ass. Then, without so much as a by-your-leave, she picked me up in a casual bridal carry and began to walk toward the bed.

"O-Oh!" I squeaked, blushing faintly. "You're much stronger than you seem…"

"You're just light," Abigail remarked. "Must be because you're so short."

"I am not short!" I whined, pouting up at my maid. "I'm simply… compact."

"Devilla. That's just another way of saying short," Abigail teased, placing me gently atop the pink covers that adorned my bed. "Why do you care so much anyway?"

"Because demon queens are meant to be imposing," I answered, honestly. "Or at least all the portraits I've seen of my ancestors make it seem that way…"

"Is that all it is?" Abigail laughed. "You're never going to be imposing. Ever! It's just not happening. I mean, you're probably the most adorable demon queen to ever live."

"Is that seriously all you have to say on the matter?" I balked. "No words of encouragement? I thought this was where you'd tell me I don't need to measure up physically to match them in spirit."

"Hmmmm…" Abigail mused, tapping a finger against her chin. "Nope. Can't think of any motivational speeches. But I will say this." She climbed into the bed, pressing her thighs into the space between mine, and then leaned down to kiss my nipple once more. My breath caught in my throat as her tongue darted out against my teat, before moving about the nipple in a slow, teasing circle. When she parted from me, she left my peak wet and stiff with need. "You are very fun to tease."

A deep blush colored my cheeks, kindled by the kiss and words alike. The smirk on Abigail's lips said she knew just what she had done to me, and that she wasn't done yet. She was already lowering herself down to cup my breast in one of her hands, and was soon peppering my cleavage with kisses.

I arched my back, thrusting my chest out against her mouth, and gave myself over to the pleasurable assault. But the kisses to my breasts were only a distraction. While I was laying back on the bed, my eyes closed and my breath coming in heavy gasps from her attack on my chest, I failed to notice the hand that was working its way between our bodies. Before I realized it, Abigail already had a hand on my inner thigh, and a thumb edging ever closer to my outer folds.

"If you want to back out, this is your last chance," she said, pressing her short trimmed nails against my upper thigh, hard enough to leave faint imprints on my skin. "In another second, I don't think you'll be able to think straight enough to make me stop."

"I have no intention of backing down," I informed her, shaking my head defiantly. "I set out to get you fed, and I intend to see it through to the end."

"...Alright, drama queen," Abigail agreed, leaning down to press her lips against my breast again. Her lips felt hot against my skin. Her tongue, which darted against my exposed nipple, was firm but gentle. Her humid breath cascaded across my skin. And as I focused on this minutiae, two of her fingers entered my sex.

My body stiffened at the intrusion, even as my wet mound eagerly accepted the digits. I could feel her fingers on my inner walls, feel her nails lightly digging against my flesh. The sensation was so clear that I had to wonder, once again, whether I had some extra nerves in there.

Slowly, Abigail's fingers pressed inward, moving deeper into my body and then slowly withdrawing, her short trimmed nails in constant contact with my channel. Her thumb brushed against the faint stubble above my pussy, and then traveled down again, settling over my clitoris. She teased at it, gently working it away from its hood so that she could run the pad of her thumb across it, again and again.

Each touch to my clit felt like she was sending a bolt of lightning arcing through my body. Her fingers inside my wet slit might as well have been pumping fire through my veins as they worked their way in and out. It felt like an inferno had joined forces with a storm to rampage through my being. My back arched. My lips opened to release a loud moan.

Her fingers continued to work at me, her lips sucking at my tit, her teeth nipping at my flesh. Her kisses plastered my cleavage. Even her tongue made the occasional appearance, licking at the skin that stretched between my breasts. The heat within me kept building all the while, until it felt like I could no longer contain it.

Yet before the heat could overspill, Abigail's finger suddenly stopped moving. The heat that had been washing over me in waves began to recede, and the climax I was so close to fell away. What was going on? Was this some sort of terrible trick? What had I done to deserve this? I wanted to ask, but all that emerged from my throat was a high pitched whine of need.

Abigail chuckled in response, running her thumb lightly across my clit before slamming her fingers back into me, and starting to pump again. With Abigail fanning the flames, it wasn't long before I stood once more at the brink of orgasm. And yet, once more, Abigail's fingers began to slowly withdraw from my sex.

"What is the meaning of this?" I demanded, gathering all my willpower to force the words out.

"Just a little fun, your Majesty," Abigail teased, holding up the two fingers that had been stuffed inside me. "This time, anyway. Next time we do this, I intend to make you beg."

"Beg!?" I demanded - or tried to, anyway. The only thing that came out was a strangled squeak as I felt something enter my pussy. Looking down, I could see Abigail's tail inside me, the spade teasing against the interior of my being. Slowly but surely it worked its way in, the tip of the spade teasing at my internal nerves. My walls squeezed down tight on the tail, but still it made its way deeper inside, until at last I felt the spade brush against something deep within my core.

A single touch had me crying out. Abigail grinned, twisting the cord-like tail about within me so that the protruding part could brush against my clit even as her spade worked my g-spot. The heat within me, which had begun to recede once more, was suddenly back with a vengeance. I could feel fire coursing through my veins. It was more than I could handle, more than I knew what to do with. I came, slamming my head back against the bed as I screamed out my lover's name.

"That was a good meal," Abigail commented, parting from my tits and pulling out her tail. She sat upright, straddling my waist.

"Then you're fully recovered?" I inquired, once I had regained control of my body.

Abigail nodded.

"And you promise not to go without food again? Even for my sake?" I pressed.

"I promise, I promise. Honestly, Devilla, you're being a worrywart. I would have been fine even if you hadn't done anything."

"...It seems you still don't understand how much you concerned me," I remarked, casually reaching up to grab Abigail's arms. Then, before she could register what I was doing, I pushed myself up off the bed and pressed her down into the mattress, rearranging myself so that I could straddle her this time.

"Hey! Turnabout's against the rules!" Abigail protested, glowering up at me. Her lips were pulled into a pout, but I thought I could see amusement behind the fake anger.

I wasn't playing, though. "Abigail, I was sincerely worried about you. I don't want you pushing yourself past your limits for my sake."

"Alright," she agreed, readily enough. "I'll try not to push myself too hard. But only if you do the same."

"That's different," I argued, looking away. "The fate of our people rests on my shoulders. I'm supposed to push myself a little."

"Devilla, if you're feeling pushed, then you're probably doing enough to kill a normal person three hundred times over. I'm not saying you shouldn't try your best, but I got really scared when you disappeared for three days. I don't want you overextending yourself like that again."

"...Very well," I conceded, shaking my snow-white hair. "I'll try not to press myself too hard. Thankfully, the Heroine already seems to like me. A month is pushing it, but with a little luck I should be able to bring her around…" Lucy joined forces with the demons all on her own, in the game. Surely she'd be receptive, when the time came, to words from their queen.





The graveyard gate let out a familiar squeal as it opened, just as it always did. Once again, I considered whether I should bring oil on my next visit. It wasn't really my responsibility, but I'm sure that's what everyone else thought as well! Besides, the gate was the entrance to the graveyard - it set the tone for the entire visit. It was worth fixing, and I did have the money...

Actually, I made a lot of money as an adventurer, doing jobs that were too dangerous for most, though I often ended up giving a lot of it back. Really, while I needed enough to support myself, I didn't adventure for the gold! I did it to help people. That's what a Heroine was supposed to do, after all! And fixing the gate would be another way of doing that.

That settled it. Next time I was definitely going to remember to bring oil! Decision made.

I continued to hum to myself as I wound my way down the graveyard path. There were a couple of other mourners in the area, but none of them were close to the route I took. That was fine, though! Everyone was here to talk to someone important to them, after all. It was best to assume people wanted privacy during times like that.

It didn't take me long to spot the proper grave. Despite the squeaky gate, the church graveyard was actually a pretty fancy place! Almost every tombstone had some form of ornate design. Even my mom's grave marker couldn't escape that. It was a stone statue, carved to look like a tree.

I had actually wanted them to plant a real tree on her grave, but they said it was impossible. As it was, letting a commoner like my mom into the church's attached graveyard was a big deal. There were only so many plots within actual city limits, after all!

Or that's what they told me, anyway. Actually, I really wanted to bury my mother next to the cottage where we'd lived together, but Father Tuffel told me that wouldn't do. The Heroine's mother had to be buried properly, on sanctified land. So she was here, instead.

I stared morosely at the grave for a moment, then shook my head fiercely to try and cast off any negativity.

"Sorry mom," I apologized, putting on my brightest smile. "I came to update you on my life, and all I'm thinking about is death! That's not right."

My mom didn't answer, of course. There was no way she could! But I didn't need a verbal response to know that she was listening to me, just like Father Tuffel always said. She was always watching over me from heaven.

"Let's see… Where do I start?" I muttered, mostly to myself. "I've been beating up monsters a lot, so I'm way stronger than I was eight months ago! Father Tuffel says I won't see real growth until I go on the battlefield, but I think the fighting skills I'm picking up as an adventurer will help more than anything! Though I still have a long way to go…"

I paused and turned about in a circle to ensure there was absolutely no one near me. Then I crouched down next to the grave, cupped my hand to my mouth, and began to loudly whisper. "By the way, mom, I totally had sex! And I know, I know, the church says I'm not supposed to have sex without procreation, but everyone does it anyway! I just have to pay the proper fees at the church, and everything's okay, right? And it was totally worth it!"

I reached into my purse and pulled out a tin ingot. Taking hold of it in both hands, I poured magic into the metal and began to twist its shape. The speed of my sculpting caused the tin to get hot in my hands, but it wasn't enough to burn me. I could even stick my hand into a campfire without any issues, so this wasn't going to be a problem! Within moments, I had the perfect miniature sculpture of Eena.

"This is her," I told my mom. "Her name's Eena. And…" Again, I looked all around me, this time going so far as to suffuse some of my magic through the air. Once I was absolutely certain no one was listening, I again cupped my hand to my mouth and began to whisper, much softer than before. "I'm not sure she's human. I've never met anyone who can wield magic like she does. And she's even physically stronger than I am! It's super suspicious, but… I remember what you taught me. Demons are people, too. And I know Eena has a good heart! So, whatever she's doing in human lands, I want to help her."

I hesitated for a moment, and then added the words that had been weighing on my mind. "I really hope she isn't serving the Demon Queen, though… I know demons are just people, the same as us, but… She's the only one I can't forgive. I'm sure she's evil. In fact, she's probably the one who turned the demons against humans to begin with!"

Mom always told me that hatred was like poison for the soul. She believed that there was good in everyone, and I was sure she would say the same about the Demon Queen. But...I wasn't as strong as my mom had been.

I never wanted to fight. If the Demon Queen hadn't sent her assassins, I probably wouldn't be interested in going to war at all. But the Demon Queen already made the first move… I didn't like the rage that flowed through me when I thought of her, but I knew that I had to channel it into a force for justice.

"Don't worry, Mom. I'll make sure no one else has to go through what we did, ever again. I'll definitely take out the Demon Queen - no matter what!"





First off, acknowledgements: This chapter was edited by paradoxicalWitchling, and proofread by FallingLeaf.

Second, actual notes! Starting with the fact that when I originally thought up Sylvanna, I was actually planning to have quite a bit of fun with her, and her abilities, in the bedroom. Instead, I ended up with... Well, this! I can't say for certain, but I suspect she's the least popular character in the series. Maybe that'll change one day, but for now, all I can say is "OOF."

And then there's Lucy! This was my first time writing from her perspective, and I gotta say - it was fun. I especially enjoyed writing that last line. Definitely not because I'm evil, or anything~! ...Well, not beyond what's expected of a writer, anyway. c:

Anyway, I'll post the start of volume 2 tomorrow. I'm only a few chapters into it - 3 plus an interlude - but it's shaping up well, in my opinion. The volume will be focused partly on the human kingdom Devilla visited in volume 1, but there will still be chapters - and interludes with Abigail - devoted to the tower. It's also devoted in part to Devilla's childhood, so look forward to learning about that~!

As always, I hope you had fun reading! If you're interested in supporting me, please consider joining my Patreon! I'll be releasing everything up to chapter 13 over the next couple weeks, but generally new chapters stay on Patreon for two weeks before being released to the public - though admittedly most of that time is generally spent getting it edited and proofread. The lowest tier you can get access with is $1, while the higher tiers - $5+ - get you access to my one-shots a month before I post them anywhere else. (I generally try to get those edited during that one month time span, as well.)
 
Chapter 11 - Volume 2 Prologue
My eyes tracked the kitsune's tail as it swayed back and forth. The hallways were full of beautiful paintings, opulent vases, and, of course, gorgeous maids, but my eyes stayed faithfully locked on this girl's tail. Its sway was almost hypnotic and watching it helped soothe my nerves as I was led toward the Demon Queen.

Or at least we were supposed to be going toward Queen Devilla. We weren't walking down the usual hallways. Even distracted by the tail, I could tell that much. After all, I'd walked those hallways countless times, bringing Devilla reports from throughout the tower.

Though maybe "reports" was a bit generous. She could call me the general of the fortieth floor. She could even declare me her spymaster, but it wasn't like I ever brought her any real information. That wasn't my job.

My job was to find out what people thought of the Queen. Every day I found a few spiders to take control of, sent them throughout the tower, and tapped into their senses at random intervals. If I heard someone talking about Devilla, I'd write down what they said on a slip of paper. Then I would push that slip through the slit of a locked wooden box. And once a week, without fail, Devilla would call on me to deliver that box to her throne room. She always had to know what people thought of her, no matter what - even though it was almost always bad.

Except, in the week and a half since Princess Devilla became Queen Devilla, she had yet to call me in even once. The slips of paper were piling up without anyone to read them, to the point where it was becoming an effort to fit more of them inside the box. Not only that, but the stories I heard about Queen Devilla lately were getting… weird.

Oh, there was still a lot of the usual stuff. Ill wishes, angry mutterings about how Queen Devilla didn't care about her people, and a lot of talk about how disappointed Queen Grimmilla would be if she could see her daughter now. And then there was the rumor that Devilla had gotten angry at the sun for outshining her and blasted a giant fireball at it. That really did sound like the Demon Queen I knew.

But then there was strange new gossip thrown into the mix. Like how the Queen had apparently left the tower, and brought home a new type of food? I had trouble wrapping my head around that one. It wasn't like her to do any work, let alone something that could help others, but it was true that a new vegetable had been introduced to the dryads' and goblins' growth rotation. Not only that, the other day salt began to appear in the market in large quantities. The first batch of it went fast, but over the last three days even more had come in and everything pointed to Queen Devilla being the source.

An even less believable rumor said that Queen Devilla had made friends with a servant. It was true that she'd gotten a personal maid, but there was absolutely no way Devilla was friends with the poor thing! In order to befriend someone, you first had to see them as your equal, or at least worthy of your time. I totally agreed with the rumors on this one: Devilla was just bullying a servant into acting like her friend.

What I couldn't figure out was why? Getting food for the tower, publicly treating this servant, Abigail, like she mattered - was the Demon Queen trying to change how people in the tower viewed her? But then why hadn't she ordered me to deliver my findings? Didn't she want to know if her trick was working?

Well, in the end, I wasn't going to get anywhere just wondering about it. That was why I'd chosen to take proactive measures. I'd made my own request to meet the Queen and gotten it approved. Now I was marching down the hallways of the hundred and first floor, on my way to meet her.

In theory. I still didn't recognize where we were.

"We're here," the maid declared, coming to a stop at the end of a hallway. Before me was a thick-looking wooden door, trimmed with gold. It was most definitely not the entrance to the throne room.

"Uh. Where is here, exactly?"

"The queen's bed chambers," the maid replied matter-of-factly, before rapping on the door.

"Wait, what!?" I cried out. I was supposed to meet the queen in her throne room. That was where I always met her! I wouldn't say I was comfortable there, but at least it was familiar territory. How the hell was I supposed to interact with the Queen in her own bedroom?

The doorknob turned before I could get an answer. I hastily put on a smile, ready to meet the personal maid I'd been hearing so much about, but when the door opened, it wasn't a servant standing on the other side.

It was Queen Devilla.

…Or at least it looked like Queen Devilla. She was wearing a lot more than she usually did when I saw her; a green top that fully covered her stomach, and barely showed any cleavage, as well as a black skirt that actually touched her knees. It was a weird look for her, but a quick glance confirmed that everything else about her was the same. Her straight white hair, which was long enough to brush against her well-cushioned ass, was as shiny as ever. Her purple eyes still had that glint of intelligence that I'd never actually seen her put to use. She was even still wearing her favorite pair of open-toed platform heels, colored black to match the tint of her nails. Every general knew that Queen Devilla would never be caught dead in anything less than three-inch heels and that she absolutely hated it when anyone brought up her real height.

"General Araina," she said, greeting me with a strained smile. "I apologize for the informality of our meeting - I'm trying to stick to a schedule."

"It's fine," I assured her, trying to hide my surprise at her apology. It wasn't like the Queen to admit any sort of flaw on her part, but then again, I never thought I'd see her opening her own door, either. What was going on here? "I-I only came by to deliver my weekly reports. They've been building up..."

"Re…. ports." Queen Devilla's eyes flicked to the box I was holding, and then back to me. The smile on her face widened slightly, but seemed even more tense from the effort. "Right. I had managed to completely forget about those… Burn them, would you?"

"B-burn them?" I echoed, my fake smile shattering into an expression of shock.

"That's right. And I'm ordering you to stop with surveillance while you're at it. I'm afraid I need to give some serious thought to your position…"

"S-stop the surveillance?" I mumbled back, barely able to form the words. What was happening? Was this part of the Queen's attempt to change her image? Had she come to the conclusion that a spymaster would only make her appear more deceitful?

But what about me? I needed this job. It was all I had left! My friends all abandoned me when it came out that I was spying on our people. Even the girl I was dating at the time called me scum to my face and broke up with me. I was probably the second least popular demon in the tower, all because Queen Devilla pressured me into taking this position.

And now I was at risk of losing it? It felt like my world was spinning. There was a tightness in my chest and this weird churning in my stomach. Queen Devilla was still speaking, but I could no longer hear her. The only thing going through my head was that I was about to lose everything.

"I… I need to get out of here," I murmured, backing up from the door.

"Are you alright?" Queen Devilla asked, frowning up at me. "Do you need healing?" Did she really think she could just pretend to be concerned, and everything would work out fine? That I would fall for whatever trick she was trying to play on the masses? I knew her too well for that.

"I'm fine," I lied. "Peachy. Great!" I spun away before the tears could spring from my eyes, and raced down the hallway, not bothering to wait for the kitsune maid.



"You're sure you have everything?" Abigail badgered. "The gems you wanted to sell? The emergency food supplies? Your tent?"

"I have everything," I promised, trying not to roll my eyes. Abigail was only acting this way out of concern for me, after all. As strong as I was, even I might run into trouble while all alone in human territory. If I was being absolutely honest, I was perhaps a touch nervous myself.

Still, this was a journey that had to be undertaken. My people had been pushed to the brink of extinction thanks to the humans' war against us. Our only chance at survival was making peace, and our only chance at doing that was to make a connection with the Heroine.

Technically, I still had three days left before my promised date with Lucy. I could stay and relax in the tower for a little bit longer if I wanted to, but I preferred to try and grasp the lay of the land before our meeting. Besides, I needed to make a pit stop before heading to Rendra City.

"What about teleportation magic?" Abigail pressed. "Have you mastered it?"

"Enough to cast the spell, at least," I assured her with a smile. It felt good knowing I'd no longer have to depend on others to activate the circles for me. "I've already set up a teleportation ring in my closet. Though, actually, I'm not sure it's completely necessary to have one. There are some things I'd like to try out when I have a moment."

"Devilla," Abigail said, her tone flat. She narrowed her pitch-black eyes at me. "Please tell me you aren't planning to mess around with magic that bends the very fabric of reality!?"

"Well, it sounds a lot more dangerous when you put it that way…"

"Devilla! No experimenting with teleportation magic! What if you end up trapped on the other side of Solla, or something?"

"I suppose I'd have to figure out what went wrong and try again."

"Be serious!" Abigail snapped, pointing angrily at me. "What do you think will happen to the rest of us if you just disappear like that? There are no guarantee things will go like they did in your 'game,' you know. We could all end up getting wiped out without you!"

"I wasn't entirely joking… But I do understand your point. I'll keep to traditional teleportation magic so long as I have a choice."

"Why doesn't that make me feel any better?" Abigail complained, cradling her head in her hands.

I was spared the need to answer by a knock at the door. Likely Araina, spymaster general of the fortieth floor. I wasn't sure what she wanted, but since she'd gone through the trouble of requesting an official audience with me, it was probably important.

Usually, I would meet a visiting general in my throne room, but I had yet to sit in that massive chair since officially becoming queen. While I used to perch there without a care in the world, I was now all too aware of the heavy responsibilities it represented and my own inadequacies in meeting them. I was hoping to avoid any official audiences in that room until I felt worthy of it.

I waved away Bailey, who was sniffing at the bottom of the door and turned the handle. I found myself staring into the blue eyes of a red-haired kitsune; one of my maids from her uniform. Possibly a new hire? I didn't recall seeing her before, but it was just as likely that she was a long-time employee I never really bothered to note the features of. Yet another thing to correct...

In any case, my current concern was the eight-legged woman standing behind the maid. She was an arachne: a woman with the upper body of a human and the bottom half of a spider. She was a sandy blonde, with kind-looking yellow eyes and rosy cheeks. She had a somewhat delicate, even dainty figure, with gently sloping curves and small breasts that were just barely big enough to fill one's hands. Not that I could see them beneath the sky blue blouse she wore, but, for better or worse, the image of her naked body was burned into my memories both from my recent coronation and from Jacob's memories of Tower Conquest.

And then there was her spider half. Where her upper form was pale, her lower carapace was almost pure black, except for a single white dot in the center of her upper side. It was a large, wide form that filled most of the hallway, in stark contrast to the small humanoid figure that sat where a normal spider's head would be.

"General Araina," I greeted her, smiling. Araina was doing the same, but her smile looked frozen in place as if she'd received a great shock. Well, not that I could say much about my own. I didn't have a lot of fond memories associated with any of my generals. "I apologize for the informality of our meeting - I'm trying to stick to a schedule."

Her eyes widened, and her smile came unstuck. "It's fine," she assured me. "I-I only came by to deliver my weekly reports. They've been building up..."

"Re … ports." I glanced at the wooden box she was clutching against her chest. I knew exactly what was in it, and it wasn't anything good. I forced myself to smile a bit wider, trying to hide my distaste for my past self's ego. "Right. I had managed to completely forget about those… Burn them, would you?"

That box contained nothing but negativity. I would destroy it myself, but I really did have to finish running things through with Abigail if I was going to leave today and to be honest, I didn't trust myself not to peek at the contents. I had already spent far too many nights locked in my room, breaking my self-esteem by reading exactly what other people thought of me. I didn't need to return to such self-destructive habits.

"B-burn them?" Araina repeated, looking surprised.

"That's right. And I'm ordering you to stop with surveillance while you're at it. I'm afraid I need to give some serious thought to your position…"

"S-stop the surveillance?" she mumbled back, barely audible even to my impressive hearing.

"You don't need to worry about your job, of course," I tried to reassure her. "But I do need to rethink your duties. I believe you were originally interested in joining the arachne communication relay? Perhaps I could put you in charge of that, or something similar."

"I… I need to get out of here," Araina murmured, backing away from me.

"Are you alright?" I asked, frowning. "Do you need healing?" She looked pale, even sickly; not exactly common for demons, who couldn't normally get ill if they tried.

"I'm fine," she insisted. "Peachy. Great!" Then she spun away and skittered down the hall.

"...If you'll excuse me," the kitsune maid dropped into a curtsy before turning to follow Araina.

I didn't bother responding, but simply stared down the hallway Araina had run through. It was obvious that I'd upset the woman, though I wasn't sure how. I would have thought her happy to be relieved of spying on her own people. It wasn't a job she'd ever sought out, and if she hadn't been buried in debt when I first met her, I doubt she would have accepted the position at all. I certainly hadn't made things easy on her, considering I made no effort to hide who was doing my spying.

Something odd was going through that girl's head. It didn't seem like she was in the mood to discuss it, but I'd have to find some time to talk to her soon. I did hope she wouldn't do anything stupid in the meantime, such as trying to peek in on me or Abigail. There were, of course, countermeasures against spider spying, but if I had to go that far then we already had a serious problem.

Perhaps it was best that I warn her away? Just in case? Though if she wasn't planning anything after all, that would only make things more awkward.

Then what about a warning she'd only come across if she tried spying? That was a bit more clever. Some sort of spider repellant, perhaps? My human mother, back when I was still Jacob, had been terrible with spiders. If I remembered correctly, she had a trick to keep them away. It wouldn't stop one under the direct control of an arachne of course, but if she came across something that was obviously meant as a deterrent, then Araina would likely get the message.

"Abigail?" I called out, closing the door. "While I'm gone, could you perhaps lay down some peppermint oil?"



My black wings beat against the air, stirring up dust on the dirt road as I slowed my descent enough to touch down. Getting ready had taken a little longer than anticipated, mostly because of Abigail. My loyal maid absolutely insisted on reviewing everything with me, from the items I planned to carry to the backstory I would give anyone who asked. She also took great pains to warn me against drawing attention to myself, as if that wasn't a given. Personally, I didn't think it would be much of an issue. The heroine was bound to attract far more attention than a nameless traveler in her company.

Somehow that didn't do much to relieve Abigail's worries, and in the end I wasn't able to fully banish her fears no matter how much I reassured her. Still, if going over things managed to help even a little then I considered it time well spent.

I'd landed just as the sun was beginning to set, the timing of which worked out in my favor. With the light of day leaving them behind, most humans would be wrapping up their work by now. That hopefully meant Lissera would be free to deal with me.

I dismissed my wings and made my way on foot past the outer wall which surrounded the fields. I didn't see anyone working them, so it seemed that my assumption about work hours was more or less correct. Humans didn't have the same night vision we demons boasted, after all.

When I reached the inner wall, I reached through the barred gate to undo the latch and stepped inside without a moment's hesitation. A few people, walking down the street as I entered the town, turned to look at me with suspicion as I navigated their simple security measures. One of the villagers, a blue-haired young man with green eyes, said something. The fickle wind blew most of his words in the wrong direction, but I was fairly certain I heard the name 'Eena' mentioned. After that, the stares seemed to change, shifting from suspicion to gentler, if no less intense, curiosity. Perhaps my reputation preceded me?

I smiled politely, then began to walk away. Abigail's warning aside, it was a little late for me to avoid drawing attention in this town. I didn't want to attract more of it than needed, though, especially with my disguise in its current state. We didn't have ready stores of hair dye in the tower, and I wouldn't have been able to secure any without drawing questions. As such, I was simply using a spell to make my tresses appear brown. I had plenty of magic left in me, and there was little risk of me dropping the spell by accident, but there was always a chance that something would catch me off guard. Not to mention the fact that I couldn't cast any other magic while I was maintaining this spell.

A few more people's gazes swung towards me as I made my way down the street, but I did my best not to make eye contact with any of them. Fortunately for me, Lissera's home was close to the outer wall. Unfortunately for me, the small size of the town meant that word of my arrival was spreading quickly. Instead of suspicious glares or surprised looks, I was getting friendly waves. I was used to being recognized, but it was a little strange to see recognition repeatedly turn to happiness instead of revulsion. My cheeks were starting to tinge pink under the attention.

I ducked my head down and pretended not to notice. Even when someone called out to me, I refused to turn around. If anything I picked up my pace, knowing I was only a few steps away from Lissera's home and my own safety. The voice had come from some distance away in any case, so it was easy enough to pretend I hadn't heard it, but even as I stepped up to the house I heard the sound of hurried footsteps as someone raced after me, apparently desperate for my attention.

"Eena!"

I recognized that voice. I spun away from Lissera's house to see Lissera herself, bent over and clutching at her thighs, breathing heavily. She held up a finger, then dropped her hand back to her leg again. I waited patiently as she caught her breath, then closed her eyes, stood up straight, and appeared to settle herself.

Then she glared at me.

"Why didn't you stop?!"

"I don't suppose we could discuss this inside?" I requested, glancing meaningfully around us. Up until that point most people had only smiled and waved at me in passing, but with Lissera stopping me in front of her house to shout at me several of them had actually paused to gawk.

Lissera, noticing the direction of my gaze, opened her mouth into a small "O" of surprise. "Huh… Never took you for the shy type. It's cute, though."

"I am not shy," I grumbled, crossing my arms defensively. "I simply don't think it's a good idea for me to attract attention. I thought you, of all people, would understand that." I lowered my voice to a whisper for that last part. It was possible someone could overhear me, with magic, but that was precisely why I kept my words vague.

"I think it's a little late for that… But if you really want to escape your fans, then come on in." She grabbed ahold of my arm and led me into her home.

It was small inside, just as I remembered. The house was comprised largely of a bedroom, which was mostly filled by a double-sized bed. Still, it felt much more spacious than it had when I'd been trapped in the room with Lucy. It was a bit hard to see her as a threat, now that I'd gotten used to her, but coming face to face with the Heroine for the first time really hadn't been great for my heart.

"So what can I do for you, Eena?" Lissera asked, smiling brightly. "I mean, if you just want your potatoes, you should see the Village Head."

"The Village Head?" I asked, tilting my head to one side. I hadn't come across anyone with that title during my last visit.

"She was laid up in bed last time you visited," Lissera explained. "She's pretty old and doesn't leave her house much. But she wanted to thank you in person anyway."

"Perhaps another time," I told her, shaking my head. I wanted to build good relations with this town, but meeting with the leadership of a village seemed a serious step. I'd want to be properly prepared - and properly dressed, too. I was wearing more than usual, in a vague attempt to mimic human modesty, but it was still a far cry from their formal wear. Not that I was entirely certain what humans wore when meeting those in power, but I somehow doubted that they'd go with a backless green top or a skirt that barely brushed their knees.

"I'm not here for potatoes, in any case."

"You're not?" Lissera ran a hand through her hair, looking at me almost nervously. "Then what are you here for? We're just a farming village, you know. We don't exactly have a lot to offer a literal queen."

"You'd be surprised," I muttered back. I didn't wish to discuss the state of the demon tower with a human, no matter how friendly she might be, but the truth was that we were lacking in certain key resources, such as salt and other minerals. While we weren't entirely without luxury goods, especially in the upper echelons, there were certain things one simply couldn't get at a moment's notice. Especially not if they were trying to avoid attracting undue attention.

"I require hair dye. Preferably of the same shade you used when last I was here. I… Do not have any human currency as of yet, but if you can accept a gem in trade, or if you're willing to let me pay you back down the line, I would very much appreciate it. It would be even better if you could teach me how to make my own, but I'm aware that might be asking a bit much."

"It was just walnut dye, Eena. It's pretty easy to make - you break up some walnuts, boil them in water, simmer them for about an hour, and then let the liquid cool overnight. I'll borrow some of my mom's supply, again - she always makes way too much of it, anyway."

"That would be appreciated," I told Lissera, allowing my shoulders to slump a little as a tension I didn't even realize I was holding left me. "And as for your preferred method of payment?"

"Geeze, don't worry about that! Like I said last time, Eena, you're the hero who saved my town. Helping you not get mobbed while traveling human lands is the least I can do. Even if I am sort of nervous about what you might be doing away from the demon tower…"

"Nothing nefarious, I assure you. Not that I expect you to take me at my word alone."

"No. I trust you. Or rather, I'm choosing to trust you? I mean, you could have turned us all into demons or had monsters devour us whole, but instead, you put yourself at risk to save our town! And I'm… I'm still sorting out what that really means, to be honest? But I want to believe you aren't as bad as Mother Reliz says you are."

I was silent for a long moment, not quite certain what to say. Lissera was trying to believe in me. She was fighting against what she had been told her entire life, on the basis of a single good deed. But to think that we would still be this far away from properly understanding each other…

"There's a lot I want to say to that, but I suppose I should start by thanking you for your trust. You will have to decide for yourself what sort of person I am, but for now, I hope I can leave the matter of walnut dye in your capable hands?"

"Of course! Just wait here. I'll tell everyone you only have time to stop by for a quick visit - maybe make up some excuse about you having to meet the Heroine. Someone started a rumor that you joined her party? So maybe they'll believe that…"

"I am meeting Lucy, actually, though I wouldn't go so far as to say I've joined her party. I have no intention of charging into Dimona Tower at her side, in any case."

Lissera, who had been reaching for the doorknob, suddenly froze in her tracks and turned back toward me, her motions so stiff I could practically hear her creak. "You're… Meeting up with the Heroine again? …You call the Heroine… Lucy?"

"It is her name. I'm fairly certain she'd prefer more people use it."

"B-But she's the Heroine!" Lissera protested, voice rising several octaves. "She was chosen by the goddess to… To… Well…"

"Kill me?" I finished for her, frustration leaking into my gaze.

Lissera's gaze dropped to the ground, and a conflicted expression crossed her features. Her mouth opened, only to shut again, her lips pressed tightly closed as if she were trying to keep the words from leaving her throat.

"I… I'm going to go get the walnut dye," she said at last, turning back toward the door and hurrying outside.

I watched Lissera leave, sighing when the door closed behind her. It was becoming clear to me that I'd been too optimistic about her. She had helped me; considering I was unconscious for three days, with the Heroine present, one could even go so far as to say that she had saved my life. As weak as Lucy currently was compared to me, I couldn't say I'd have come out unscathed if she'd had access to my unmoving body. I wanted to pay Lissera back for that someday.

But to her, I was the Demon Queen, the bringer of doom upon her world. I could tell she was trying hard not to see me that way, but it was always there in the back of her mind. She was scared of me and worried about what I might be planning. In the worst case, she might decide that I was a threat to humanity's precious Heroine and opt to turn me into the Village Head.

"Perhaps it would be best if I just left," I muttered to myself, staring at the door. To be fair, it wasn't as if I were in any danger. Even if the whole town came after me, I could simply fly into the sky where they wouldn't be able to follow. Even if I waded out among the hypothetical mob, I rather doubted any of them had the strength to actually injure me.

But I didn't want to witness it. I didn't want to see the happy faces of these townsfolk twisted in hatred and fear. I could already imagine the panic as they ran away from me, pointing up at the black-winged figure who had come to savage their livestock and corrupt their souls. So what if I had saved them? I was only a few days earlier than the Heroine, and being rescued by her might have put them on the map again. What had I really done for them, in the end? Merely killed some wolves. That couldn't possibly be enough to overturn a lifetime of the church's propaganda, let alone millennia of bitter feuding. I knew how to make the walnut dye. It was best that I simply left before anyone noticed.

I took a hesitant step toward the door. I doubted I would ever have the courage to visit Derrin Village again, and yet I still hoped that the townsfolk would remember me fondly. To that end, I would have to deal with the crowd during my exit just as I had during my entrance. Word would probably spread quickly that I was leaving. Perhaps Lissera would hear about it before she even reached the Village Head? That would be best.

I was perhaps a foot away from the door when I heard a high-pitched squeak, coming from the direction of the kitchen. It was a small noise, but in the silence of the house it sounded as loud as thunder.

My head snapped to the side, and my hands clenched themselves into trembling fists. That sound. I knew that sound. There was no way I could ever forget what that creature sounded like, nor would I ever mistake it for one of its harmless cousins. And sure enough, when I turned my gaze to the floor, there it was. A rather large specimen, measuring perhaps a foot in length, with another eleven inches of naked tail stretching out behind it. It had dirty brown fur and little pink feet that looked like creepy little hands. It stared at me with its beady black eyes, and despite my best efforts, I could not tear my gaze from it. I was terrified that it would dart off to who knows where the moment I turned away.

I do not know how long we stared at each other, caught in that awful stalemate. It made the first move though, and in so doing made its first mistake. The moment it turned away from me, I held out a hand and blasted electricity from my palm toward the horrid thing. Literally traveling as fast as lightning, it should have been impossible for the creature to dodge. Perhaps the shaking in my hand was what caused my aim to be off, for I only succeeded in scorching the woven rushes that were laid upon Lissera's floor.

The detestable thing stiffened in response to my attack. It didn't move, didn't blink, didn't even breathe. I had more than enough time for another shot, but my hand wouldn't stop trembling. If I was careless I could light Lissera's house on fire. Not the goodbye gift I wanted to leave her.

I forced myself to calm down and think. Rationally, I didn't need to kill it. I was fleeing this house anyway, so it would be enough to merely remove it from my field of vision. Then I could work on regaining composure and bleaching the sight of it from my brain. I was sure there was a way to drive it off, but the icy terror gripping my heart was making it rather difficult to think. Perhaps I should simply use less flammable attacks? I had been hoping to reduce it to an unrecognizable lump of ash. But if I couldn't vaporize it then I'd settle for making it very obviously dead.

Not taking my eyes off the foul beast, I cast my magic down toward the earth beneath my feet. Not wanting the creature to sense my spell, I moved the energy underground until it was right below the thing. Then I pulled my magic upward, manipulating the earth to drive a spike into my foe.

Somehow, though, that crafty creature sensed the danger and jumped to the side at the last second! What's more, the attack seemed to jolt it out of its fear, and it began to scurry. Not away, as I had hoped, but straight toward me! My entire body trembled, my legs barely capable of holding me upright. I shot blast after blast of compressed air after the beast, but my attacks were wild and succeeded in nothing but tearing up the rushes underfoot. The beast scampered closer and closer, and yet still my attacks wouldn't connect, until finally, it was running past my foot, its pink tail striking my ankle.

The world started to go black. A high pitch scream tore itself from my throat as my legs collapsed, and I fell to my knees. I was dimly aware that I had destroyed the rushes by my feet, meaning that I was now kneeling in dirt. I would need to wash up at the earliest opportunity, though that was a given, considering what had just touched me. The mere thought caused me to wail, as hot tears began to slip from my eyes.



"Eena?" A familiar voice called out from above me. My eyes slowly opened to stare at the tiled ceiling. I realized with a start that I was lying on the floor, bits of plant matter plastered against my face and hair. I vaguely remembered curling up to try and stop the sobbing before Lissera returned. I must have passed out from there. "Eena, are you okay? What happened? The floor's an absolute mess!"

"The beast," I whispered, looking up at Lissera. "Did you see what happened to it?"

"You mean that giant rat? It squeezed under a crack in the door right before I got here. Is that what has you on the floor?"

"Don't say its name," I hissed, flinching at the word. "You might call it back, or something…"

Lissera stared down at me; her confused expression took up the majority of my vision. "Eena. Are you… Scared of-"

"Don't say it!" I snapped. Lissera took a step backward in surprise, and I blushed bright pink from embarrassment and shame. "I… Apologize. I shouldn't have yelled. It's hardly an excuse, but I have… issues with that particular species of rodent. Just hearing its proper name is unpleasant."

"But… Eena… Aren't you the Demon Queen? The only thing that can defeat you is the Heroine, right? Why are you so scared of some ra…" She paused, no doubt noticing how I winced at her half-spoken word. "Rodents. Why are you so scared of rodents?"

"It is difficult to explain... I don't suppose you'd simply accept that I have a history with them?"

"Eena, you ruined my floor. I think I at least deserve to know why!"

"…I suppose you're right," I begrudgingly admitted, slowly getting back onto my feet. "Though it's not exactly a story I wish to see spread. It is simply that I was bitten on the ear by a rat when I was still a child before my invulnerability was fully in effect. The wound grew infected, and there was even some concern that I might lose part of the ear. It all worked out in the end, of course, but I've been rather terrified of the things ever since…"

The words I spoke were true, in a sense. The event really had happened as I described, but there had never been a period in this life where I was so defenseless that a mere rat could have broken my skin with its teeth. The events I described were from Jacob's life, and the infection in question had been bad enough to permanently reduce his hearing in one ear.

To think that trauma would haunt me across worlds and lifetimes. How frighteningly persistent.

"Wow," Lissera breathed, bringing me back to the present. "That must have been terrible if you're still dealing with it after all this time…"

"It was unpleasant, to say the least, though that is an ill excuse for what I've done to your floor…"

"It's fine, Eena! I just need to replace some rushes. Though if you could maybe fix what you did to the ground…?"

"Ah…" I quickly placed my hand on the floor and sent my magic out toward the earthen spike I'd formed earlier. After pulling it back into the ground, I pushed off the floor, myself, using another spell to quickly rid myself of dirt. "Apologies."

"I said it's fine, Eena! If you want to make it up to me though, you could consider making some time to meet with the Village Head."

"Again with that? I suppose I could do so, since you're so insistent, but are sure it's a good idea to put me so close to your village's leader? I am the Demon Queen. I might do something awful to them." I forced myself to smile as if it were a joke, but I was watching Lissera's reaction carefully. Would she deny that she saw me as a threat? Or would it finally spill out into the open?

"...You really have no faith in me, do you?" Lissera asked, looking down at the ground. "I mean, I'm pretty sure I told you, didn't I? I'm choosing to trust in the woman who saved my town. And I don't really know if it's the right move or not. Maybe you really are as bad as Mother Reliz says you are. Maybe saving my town, collapsing, everything has just been a plot to do something horrible to the Heroine. Maybe… Maybe I'm betraying the whole world, helping you? But…" She took a deep breath, then lifted her gaze back up to meet mine. "But I'm going to put myself in your corner, anyway. And if the whole world burns because of my mistake, then so be it. Because I won't ever betray the one who saved the people I care about. Not ever."

I stared at Lissera, not entirely certain what to say. Her response was a little childish, perhaps, but it also seemed open and honest. How was I supposed to respond to her, in light of my own doubts about her? I felt foolish and ashamed, and in the end, the only thing I could do was nod.

"I-I'll make time for your Village Head tonight, and head to Rendra city in the morning."

"That's great!" Lissera rejoiced, grinning so brightly it almost hurt to look at. "Now maybe I won't have to sit through another lecture…"

I balked. "A lecture? That's why you're so determined to have me see her?"

"You have no idea what it's like to sit through a three-hour lecture on proper village etiquette. Apparently, you should have been staying with her, not me, and I should have introduced you before letting you go out to fight the wolves."

"I… see…" I murmured, fighting to keep the worry from my face. Three-hour lectures? Just what sort of stamina did this sickly old woman have?

"Anyway, if you're going to go see her, you're probably going to need this," Lissera said, reaching into a pocket in her dress and pulling out a glass bottle, filled with a dark brown liquid. "It's pretty concentrated, so this should be enough. Any more and mom would notice the drop in her vat, so you'll need to make your own from now on."

"Vat?" I asked, uncorking the bottle and taking a sniff. I almost expected a chemical smell, but it was only the pleasant scent of walnuts that tickled my nose.

"That's right," Lissera confirmed. "My mom is a seamstress, and my dad is a tailor. And since mom often dyes clothes for the job, they have a whole vat of this stuff."

"Convenient." I channeled my magic into the vial, pulling every last drop of liquid from the glass vessel. It floated up above my head, and then descended down in a trickle upon my hair, slipping down among my tresses as I magically forced the pigment to bond with each strand.

"I think that's my line… I mean, I'd be exhausted in an instant if I tried using magic like you do."

"I suppose we'll simply have to be jealous of one another then," I teased, then let out a short laugh. "How do I look? Did I get everything?" I spun myself around so that she could see the back of my head.

"Every strand!" she confirmed, astonished. "I've never seen anyone's hair take to it so well! It's literally the same color as the walnuts."

"I suppose it's due to my hair having no pigment of its own," I theorized, running my fingers through my hair. Hopefully, my precise mimicking of the dye wouldn't lead to anyone seeing through my disguise. It wasn't as if I could change the coloration after Lucy had already seen it.

"Now, if you wouldn't mind leading me to your Village Head?"

"It's the tallest building in the village," Lissera informed me, shrugging as she gestured in its vague direction out the window. "You really can't miss it."

"Good. Then you should have an easy time guiding me there." I insisted, refusing to move from my spot.

"No, really, it's not the sort of thing you'd need a guide for. Just walk down the road toward the center of town. You couldn't miss it if you tried!" Her smile seemed a little strained, and there was an edge of panic in her voice.

"Why do I get the impression that you don't wish to guide me?"

"I don't want to get a lecture on 'proper dress for a lady' after you're gone!" Lissera complained, her smile breaking apart like waves on sharp rocks as she lifted her hands to clutch at her ears. "It's almost as bad as the lecture I'll get if I let you go without seeing her! I'm telling you, there's no way for me to win here!"

"Then I suggest you accept your fate with grace and show me the way. Running will only make it worse, no?"

"Urk…" From the grimace on Lissesra's face, I'd hit the nail on the head. "You can only say stuff like that because it doesn't affect you, dammit!"

"True," I conceded. "Which is why I won't stop you from slipping away when we get close enough, but I will have you guide me." Truthfully, I simply didn't wish to wander around town by myself. I seemed to be oddly popular in this village, and the discrepancy between who I was and how they saw me was uncomfortable. Even if Abigail was right about my worth, I still wasn't the hero they saw me as. A true heroine was someone like Lucy, who risked her life for what she believed in, with no expectation of reward. All I had done was inconvenience myself for the sake of some potatoes.

"Fine…" Lissera let out an exaggerated sigh, then held out a hand.

"I don't need to be led around like a child," I protested, starting to walk past her toward the door. To my surprise, however, Lissera grabbed hold of my hand as I passed her, squeezing my fingers.

"That's not it," she said, shaking her head. "This is my… payment. If I'm going to get lectured for three hours or more, the least you can do is let me hold a pretty girl's hand."

"A pretty girl's…?" I stared at her, baffled. "You can't tell me you're still hoping to bed me? I know I keep saying this, but I am the Demon Queen, you know."

"Maybe? I'm not sure how bedding you would work, to be honest. I mean, putting aside you being literally made of sin, I don't know what I'd do with the whole mouth and tentacle thing you've got going on down there."

"Made of…? Mouth and tentacles!?" I pressed my free hand to my forehead. Even though I knew it was impossible, I sincerely felt that I was starting to get a headache. I was definitely going to have to look into the church's teachings, and soon. I was tired of getting caught off guard by the lies they told about me.

"If you think I'm so disgusting, why do you even want to hold my hand?"

"I never said you were disgusting! Just different. But there's a line in the holy scriptures that says the best way to understand someone different from you is to take their hand and realize you aren't so different after all. When I feel your fingers with my own, it's hard to think of you as evil, or gross. You're just another pretty girl holding my hand."

I stared at her for a long moment, not sure what to say. From the earnest look in her eyes, I could tell that she meant every word she said… for better or worse.

"Lissera," I said, at last, speaking slowly and deliberately. "I do not have tentacles. Or a second mouth. The only thing 'down there' is my vagina, plain and simple."

"Huh? Really?"

"Really," I insisted, choosing to ignore the mix of doubt and disappointment I heard in her voice. "And I'm not 'literally made of sin' either. I was born to parents, the same as you. You might remember me mentioning my childhood?"

"I thought you meant right after you… 'formed'," Lissera admitted, shyly glancing away from me.

"I meant what I said. The question is whether you can say the same. Even if you've accepted that I'm not pure evil, you can't accept that I might be good, can you? You don't want to think that everything you've ever learned might be a lie."

"I-I'm trying, Eena. I'm honestly, seriously trying! But even if everything the church says is wrong, I still don't know what's right. How can I tell the truth from falsehood when I don't know anything about you?"

"Did you ever consider asking?" I countered, anger simmering just beneath my words. "You might find it works wonders."

"Then next time I'll ask you," Lissera promised. "But for this time, can I just hold your hand?"

"Why?" I challenged, gritting my teeth as I tried to hold back my tongue. "Because of some line in the scriptures? It doesn't even make sense! What could you possibly get from holding hands with someone like me?"

"It's not just a line! It's a reminder to look for commonalities between people. We both have ten fingers, right? And we both feel warm to the touch. We're both here, in Solla, touching each other's hands! So… maybe it's not so impossible for us to understand each other after all..."

"...Do what you will," I uttered darkly, turning to walk out the door. Despite my cold words, there was a faint flicker of warmth in my heart. Lissera and I were still worlds apart from truly understanding one another, but the fact that she was trying gave me some hope.

"Hey, wait a second," Lissera protested, hurrying to get out the door ahead of me. "There's no point in me guiding you if you're leading the way, you know!"

"Then be a good guide and take me all the way to your Village Head."

"There's absolutely no way I'm doing that!" Lissera boldly declared, dragging me down the dirt road. It seemed that the village was somewhat starved for strangers because I started drawing attention again the moment I was past Lissera's door. No one called out to me, however, and I ducked my head, moving past them as quickly as I could and forcing Lissera to move even faster to keep ahead of me.

"And, stop!" Lissera called out, lifting my hand alongside hers to indicate a house. "You see that big house three doors down? That's her place. Just knock on the door, and she'll let you right in."

"Very well," I relented, pulling my hand from Lissera's grasp. "May we meet again when next I visit."

"You mean you're not going to come back to my place for the night?"

She looked crestfallen, but I still gave her a firm shake of my head. Spending the night with Lissera likely meant her attempting to sleep with me, and I wasn't sure I wanted that. It wasn't as if I hated her or anything, and I certainly didn't object to casual sex… Sleeping with her might be a good way to convince her we weren't so different from one another, for that matter. But, truthfully, her treatment of me so far hadn't really put me in the mood.

"I'll be heading back out into the woods to make some walnut dye tonight," I informed her, hoping to mollify her.

"And after? You're not going to be sleeping outside, are you?"

"Don't worry about me," I insisted. "I can look after myself just fine."

I could feel Lissera's eyes lingering on my back as I walked toward the Village Head's house. I didn't turn to face her, though, and instead knocked upon the wooden door.

"One moment!" I could hear the age in the hoarse voice that called out, but also a definite firmness and strength, like that of a grand old oak.

The door opened a few moments later, revealing a very small woman; she couldn't have been more than five foot three. She was wizened with age, bent forward and leaning on a gnarled wooden cane. Her face was wrinkled with frown lines. Surprisingly, for all that, there wasn't a hint of grey in her hair. It was brown, and a shade very near my own at that.

"Well, what do we have here?" she drawled, her sharp yellow eyes locked upon me. "If it isn't the adventurer who saved our town. How nice of you to finally come pay me a visit."

"I-"

"Well, come on in," she interrupted, turning back around and gesturing for me to follow her. Despite being hunched over and reliant on a cane, she moved with surprising speed and soon disappeared into the house. That left me hesitating in the doorway, uncertain how to proceed.

"Come on in, I said! You trying to let the flies in?"

"Apologies," I answered, trying not to roll my eyes as I entered the house and shut the door behind me. After walking through the parlor, I found myself in what appeared to be a dedicated dining room, with a large table and several chairs set about it. Two bowls had been placed on the table, one at the head and one at the upper right seat. "Were you expecting someone? I can come back later, if so."

"I was expecting you," the Village Head snapped, pulling out the chair at the head of the table with a little more force than necessary, before dropping herself into it. "And a lot earlier, at that! The food's grown cold waiting. It's been sitting here since I first heard you'd wandered back into town! What sort of hero doesn't come to visit the Village Head first thing? Bad enough you left the first time without so much as a hello or goodbye!"

"I never claimed to be a hero," I corrected her. "And you can lay the blame at the feet of your own townsfolk for my not showing up last time. They rather neglected to mention an authority figure when we were making our deal."

"And what sort of town wouldn't have a leader, hmm? We might be small, but we're not that much of a backwater."

I looked away, having no answer to that. I couldn't tell her I was so unfamiliar with human government that the thought had simply never occurred to me.

"Well, done is done I suppose," the Village Head sighed, rubbing her temples with her fingers. "If you're finished making excuses, you should settle down and eat."

"Did you not have something to discuss with me?" I probed, settling into what was apparently my chair and poking at the food with my spoon in annoyance. The lumpy white food looked familiar, though not from this lifetime. "Are these mashed potatoes?"

"Oh? It seems you really do know your potatoes. That's right. These are mashed potatoes - with a little butter, and some salted pork too. It's as luxurious a meal as I can manage, though it would have been better hot…"

"It's not a problem," I calmly assured the Village Head, focusing my gaze on her bowl. After a moment, steam began to rise from the top of her meal, and I shifted attention back to my own.

The Village Head frowned at my display, then poked at the potatoes with her spoon. "Huh. You move the heat source around during the heating or something? You managed to warm the whole thing without burning anything. Still not as good as a consistently heated meal, though."

"Is that so?" I murmured, wondering if perhaps I had made a mistake of some sort. For humans, with their limited magic, allowing the warmth to spread from a handful of spots was no doubt the most efficient way of reheating a meal. But I'd chosen to prioritize taste instead, and had simply heated the whole bowl in one go. It seemed that the Village Head noticed it too because she let out a small grunt and narrowed her eyes at me.

"Well. Maybe there's some truth to you taking out all those wolves with magic, after all," she muttered between bites of potatoes. She ate as fast as she moved, and within a few minutes, her bowl was empty.

I, meanwhile, had only taken a few bites. Truthfully, even with the salted pork and butter, the food was rather bland. Now that I was over the sheer excitement of eating actual potatoes, I couldn't help but think I'd prefer a properly seasoned meal. Perhaps something with a little spice? I had quite a few meals packed away in my Empty Bag, and I really wished I could pull out a hot plate of fries.

"Not your thing, is it? I'd think someone who'd save a town for potatoes would be more than a little interested in a meal made of them."

"I have my own preferences for their preparation. Perhaps I'll introduce you to them someday, Miss Village Head." I smiled as I spoke, forcing myself to take another tasteless bite.

"Alorie," the Village Head corrected, reaching across the table to grab my bowl and pull it toward her.

I stared at her in surprise, unsure what to say. She'd been rude throughout the evening, but this seriously took the cake. Before I could say anything, however, she again began to speak.

"The name's Alorie. And if you're not going to enjoy your food, then you should give it to someone who will. That's just common manners, isn't it?"

"I wonder about that," I muttered, wondering if I should kick up a fuss. It was true that I had other food, but surely she had no way of knowing that? I was worried that if things kept going this way she would end up walking all over me.

"Look, let's go straight for the tower, here," Alorie said, pushing aside my bowl. She'd already eaten half of it, somehow.

"Excuse me?"

"It means to get to the point. Thought someone as well-traveled as you would know that. But to follow through - what would it take to get you to stay here for a few weeks?"

"Stay here for…?" I shook my head. "I'm afraid that's impossible. The Heroine is expecting me in Rendra city before long."

"The Heroine, is it?" Alorie questioned. "I did hear you two were traveling together when you left. If you really did beat up those wolves, it's no wonder the Heroine became interested in your strength. I'm sure she's looking for all the help she can get defeating that thrice-damned Demon Queen… Looks like her gain is our loss, though."

I kept my expression steady as she spoke, even as she cursed my name. This much was nothing, really. I knew how humans viewed me, though I was growing a little weary from all the reminders.

"Can I ask why you need me? Maybe I can still assist." It wasn't as if I were obligated to help a bunch of people who hated me. No matter how often I rescued them, they would no doubt continue to curse my name. Still, I had made inroads here, and if I truly wished to make peace with humans in the long run I would likely need whatever toeholds I could make.

"I'm surprised you don't know, considering how close you are to the Heroine," Alorie remarked, snorting. "The church decided not to send us a new guard."

"A new guard?" I asked. "You mean for the town?"

"For the church," Alorie clarified. "Though I suppose you could say for the town as well. Guessing you haven't been to many small towns like this, but out in the boonies, church guards are the first and often last line of defense we have. They kill off the smaller monsters that try to make trouble, and they stand in the way of bigger threats until adventurers can be called to handle them. Or at least they're supposed to. Ours ran off before you even got here - guess twenty wolves was a bit much for him."

"And the church won't replace him?"

"It might have something to do with the letters I sent to the city. Something about calling them all incompetent baboons who can't tell a proper candidate from a basic thug didn't go over too well, I suppose. But they're claiming we insulted the Heroine, instead. Apparently, she didn't take too kindly to us giving the job to some unregistered adventurer when she was already on her way here."

"I can assure you that's not the case. You had no way of knowing Lucy was coming, and she's hardly the sort to judge someone for trying to survive."

"...So you call the Heroine 'Lucy', do you? Awfully chummy with the chosen one of the Goddess, don't you think?"

"I was taught it was polite to call your acquaintances by name, Alorie. Perhaps we were taught differently in such matters?" I kept my tone light, almost mocking, trying to hide the irritation I felt. The title of Heroine sounded fancy, but it referred to nothing more or less than a cog in the angel's war machine. Lucy deserved to be seen as her own person, not merely as an embodiment of that awful title.

Alorie scowled at my words. "Well, do as you will. I'm not the one who's risking the chill of Hell. But you're right about one thing: No one chosen by the Goddess would be as petty as Father Molae is claiming. He's just trying to make us scrape and bow for forgiveness. I thought maybe if we had you protecting us for a few weeks, I could put the screws to him - say we might not need a church presence after all."

"It's certainly a courageous plan. But if it's only a bluff, surely the townsfolk can protect themselves for a few weeks? I would hope at least some of them know how to fight."

"Most of them, actually." A small, prideful smile flitted across Alorie's face. "Part of our old guard's job was teaching people how to defend themselves. And my people took to it well - there's a strength in them you won't see in any big city folk. A determination to do whatever it takes to survive. But determination will only get you so far, little miss hero."

"My name is Eena. And I don't understand. If they have the capacity and the will, then what's stopping them?"

"Weapons. Or a lack of them, anyway. Oh, we've got some pitchforks, some scythes, a couple of beaten-up spears, and a rusty sword or two, but nothing that can take on a pack of wolves. If something comes after us, and we've got no guard, we could all be wiped out before an adventurer even hears the news."

"I see… That would be a problem." I kept my face carefully neutral as I thought things over. Weapons, hmm? I was sure the tower had plenty. It was rare for me to visit the armory, and I'd certainly never paid much attention to its contents, but I had no doubt that it was well stocked. With all the losses that we'd suffered in our retreat to the tower, we likely had more weapons than we could use, even if I failed in my goals and things came to war.

Still, arming humans wasn't something to do on a whim. It would be one thing if they truly wanted to break away from the church, but I wasn't about to empower a town loyal to my enemies. Though letting this village get wiped out would leave a bad taste in my mouth...

Well, perhaps I could talk to Abigail about it when next I saw her.

"You're being awfully quiet," Alorie accused. "Something on your mind?"

"Nothing vital," I assured her, forcing a smile as I stood. "Thank you for the food."

"You aren't planning to head out, are you?" Alorie demanded, her lips curling into a disapproving frown. "It's getting dark out."

"I'll be fine. I have somewhere in mind to stay for the night." I moved toward the door, letting the smile drop from my face as I turned away from her.

"Well, alright. But be careful with Lissera, you hear? That girl pays more penance for sex than anyone else in this village, and everyone in town knows you're on her list."

"I'll keep that in mind," I replied, mentally adding sex penances to the list of things I needed to investigate. Of course, I wasn't planning to sleep with Lissera in any case, but I couldn't tell Alorie that I was passing up her hospitality for the chance to sleep in the woods, even if it was simply because I needed to make more hair dye.

I stepped out of Alorie's house before the Village Head could add any more warnings, closing the door behind me and hurrying down the street. I headed toward the opposite end of town from where I'd entered, fumbling momentarily with the simple lock before opening the gate and slipping through. I walked past the fields, beyond the second wall, and followed the road among the trees until a bend in the path obstructed the town from view. Then I moved off to the side of the road, took a deep breath, and began to let my magic flow.

My goal was walnuts. By focusing my magic energy into four walls around me, and then slowly expanding those walls outward, I could detect all the walnuts in the area. Then, pulling the walls back, I pulled the walnuts out from the trees and up from the ground, causing them to fly through the air and roll across the earth to land at my feet.

The second part was even simpler than the first. I reached into my Empty Bag for a large pot and placed it on the ground. Then I used my magic to gather up clumps of walnuts and crush them, dumping them all into the pot. Once I had them all inside, I pulled some water from the humid night air and dumped it in the pot as well, using my magic to heat it to a boil and then lowering the temperature of my spell to bring it down to a simmer.

Staring at the pot and waiting for the dye to finish cooking proved a boring task. Sitting myself down on the ground, I reached again into my Empty Bag, pulling out a plate of fries that were still hot from the oven. I followed that up with a romance book and began to read while I ate.

When I judged that about an hour had passed, I put my book away, released my heat spell, and placed my hand on the ground. Taking hold of the earth beneath me with my magic, I dragged three walls of dirt and stone from the soil and enclosed the pot within them, making sure to leave gaps for airflow. That would be more than enough to keep the pot safe and still for an evening.

"And now it's my turn…" I shot another pulse of magic through the earth, forming three walls of earth beside my little pyramid, and then adding a roof. I walked through the opening and, with a wave of my hand, sent ripples through the 'floor' of my makeshift hut, smoothing out the ground into a solid, flat surface. Kneeling, I dug back into my Empty Bag and withdrew a rolled-up quilted mattress, which I unfurled on the ground. Since I seemed largely immune to the effects of heat and cold, I didn't need a blanket, just something soft to lie on for the night.

I was about to crawl inside and raise the final wall of my shelter, to close myself in for the night, when I heard a familiar voice calling out to me.

"Eena!? Eena, are you out here?"

"Lissera!?" I called back, not bothering to hide the shock in my voice. "What are you doing out here?"

The light of a lantern swung toward me, a familiar smile illuminated by its glow. "I brought you my blanket! I thought you might be cold? You can just drop it back off in the morning, so don't worry about that!"

"You should wrap it around yourself, instead. I barely feel the cold."

"...Oh. Well, maybe you could use it for padding, then? It must be hard sleeping on the cold ground."

"I brought plenty of padding with me," I informed her, trying to keep the irritation from my voice as I gestured to the quilted mattress behind me. She was worse than Abigail, honestly.

"...Oh," she repeated, nudging the toe of her shoe against the forest floor. "Well. Maybe you can take it anyway?"

"Why?" I demanded, unable to hold back an irritated huff. "Why is it so important that I take this blanket?" I pressed her, spreading my arms to make myself look just a bit more intimidating. Why was she so insistent? She would need it more than I ever would. She likely thought I couldn't see it in the dark, but she'd been shivering throughout the entire conversation.

"Because if I give you my blanket, you'll have to give it back."

"And what would be the point in that?" I sighed, resting my forehead atop my fingertips.

"It would let me know you're alright, for one thing! I know you're strong, Eena, but even you can't defend yourself if you're asleep! Lots of monsters come out at night, too. They don't bother us in town, but if you sleep out among them who knows what'll happen? I know I can't convince you to stay with me tonight, and… I know that's sort of my fault, but at least if you bring the blanket back, tomorrow, I'll know you survived the night! And I won't have to worry about what happened to you, even if you never visit again..."

I stared at Lissera for a long moment, before releasing a long sigh and dropping onto my mattress. "Get in."

"Huh?" Lissera's brow wrinkled in bewilderment. "What do you mean?"

"I meant exactly what I said. There are monsters out, are there not? And you are freezing, besides. We will cuddle under the blanket together tonight, and you will return home in the morning. That way neither of us will have to worry between now and my next visit."

"Really? You mean you'll visit again? And I even get to sleep with you!?"

"I'm starting to regret this already," I muttered, laying down upon my bed. It seemed I'd have to spend the night clothed. Sigh. "Just get in here already."

"Right away, Eena!" Lissera gleefully replied, throwing her blanket over my body before hunching over to crawl into my shelter herself

"That's not my real name, you know…"

"It isn't?" Lissera's mouth popped open in surprise. She didn't stop moving, though, rushing to get under the blanket and snuggle up against me.

"If you're this determined to entwine your life with mine, you might as well know. My name is Devilla. Devilla Satanne."

With those words, I closed the final opening of our shelter and settled down to sleep.


Many thanks to my editor, paradoxicalWitchling, who greatly improved this piece, and to FallingLeaf for proofreading!

Lissera probably seems a little different, in this chapter - I had to think long and hard about what sort of arc I wanted her to take, and how I wanted to differentiate it from the other characters in the series. Specifically, I was worried about her having too much overlap with Lucy, since they're both excitable and happy girls who don't care that Devilla is a demon (even if only one of them knows for sure/knows she's the Demon Queen) and want to sleep with her. So I tried to change things a little, and this is what came out. I do hope she's still enjoyable as a character - I intend to show her more often in the future, and I hope to show her to growing as she learns more about Devilla.

As always, I hope you had fun reading! If you're interested in supporting me, please consider joining my Patreon! I'll be releasing everything up to chapter 13 over the next couple weeks, but generally new chapters stay on Patreon for two weeks before being released to the public - though admittedly most of that time is generally spent getting it edited and proofread. The lowest tier you can get access with is $1, while the higher tiers - $5+ - get you access to my one-shots a month before I post them anywhere else. (I generally try to get those edited during that one month time span, as well.)
 
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Chapter 12
Abigail

Watching Devilla leap from the window and spread her wings wide, I waited until I could barely make out my Queen's outline before releasing a pent-up sigh. I wouldn't want to say it in her presence, but I was a bit relieved to have some time to myself. It felt like all I'd done for the past week was worry about Devilla.

To be fair, there was a lot to worry about. The woman had no common sense! Flying to the ocean for salt was one thing, but saving a human town? Befriending the Heroine? She made me want to scream! If it had been anyone else doing these things, I'd have called it treason!

So what did Devilla do to cover her tracks? She told her top-ranking general, the administrator of the entire tower - who had a grudge against her, by the way! - about what she'd been up to. Sure, she pulled it off in the end, but if she hadn't? The entire tower could have gone into a panic!

Why did I even care so much? I mean, I obviously didn't want to see our society crumble into chaos or be erased from existence, so helping her was only sensible, but it felt like there was more to it than that. For some reason, I'd actually started to care about her feelings.

A couple of weeks ago, I'd barely been able to stand her; I had to pretend to be intimidated by her just to keep my job. But she'd changed. She was actually considering others. She listened when I talked, cared about what I had to say, and didn't treat me like an object to be used, or even a subject to be ruled. She… Hell take me, she treated me like a friend.

...Was that why I was worried about her? Because she was my friend? Holy hell, when did that happen? Was it when she got angry at that rabbit girl for my sake? Or maybe when she saved me from falling down the tower? How the hell had my feelings changed so much?

Letting out another sigh, I shook my head and turned away from Devilla's retreating figure.

Standing behind me, staring out the window, was Bailey, who'd apparently shifted to her humanoid form at some point. From what Devilla had told me the girl had been skin and bones at their first meeting, but I didn't see any signs of that now. She was skinny, sure, but not unhealthily so. Looking over her body's curves, especially her tits and ass, told me she had plenty of fat where it counted, too. And it wasn't just her figure that had improved. Since Devilla insisted on washing her regularly, Bailey's bushy tail and triangular ears were far glossier than the first time I'd seen her. Even the curved red horn that protruded from her forehead seemed to shine. She was actually pretty cute, bordering on sexy.

Not that I had any plans to bed her. Bailey might have been a demon, but she still thought like a monster. Devilla and I both agreed that she shouldn't have sex until she'd adjusted a bit.

Speaking of which…

"If people see you walking around this floor naked, they're going to get the wrong idea," I warned her. A lot of demons went without clothes, including quite a few beastfolk who didn't want to be bothered with carrying such things in their animal forms, but it was a bit different on the 101st floor. A girl walking around naked in the Demon Queen's personal territory was definitely going to spark rumors, and I didn't think Devilla would be happy if she came home to that sort of headache.

Bailey didn't respond to my comment, though. She just stared out the window, her lips set into a frown, her tail drooping behind her. She stood so still that you could almost mistake her for a statue and she stayed that way until the speck that represented Devilla disappeared over the horizon. Then she turned to me.

"Queen go. I follow."

I closed my eyes and took a slow, deep breath, trying to center myself. How was I even supposed to explain everything wrong with that?

"Right… First off, you can't go. Even if it wasn't a terrible idea, you don't have wings so you can't fly after her. Second, how many times has Devilla told you to use her name?" Devilla had been teaching Bailey how to speak, using telepathy to bridge the language gap. The wolf was learning pretty quickly; she still struggled to form proper sentences, but you could pretty much always tell what she wanted to say. That also meant Bailey could respond to Devilla's verbal commands, and she was usually pretty eager to do so.

She was really stubborn about some things, though.

"Queen is Queen. But Queen not here. Follow Maid."

"Follow 'Maid'? You mean me!? No way! Devilla gave me a mission. I can babysit you when it's over."

"Follow Maid," Bailey repeated, her brown eyes locked stubbornly on mine. "Keep Maid safe."

"I'm perfectly safe!" I protested, crossing my arms in front of my chest. "I'm just going to the kitchen for some peppermint oil. Whatever that is…"

"Okay." Bailey nodded, looking for all the world like she was agreeing with me. I wasn't fooled, though! I knew her tricks. An uneasy silence dragged on for one second...two….three...

"I follow."

There it was! Just because she understood didn't mean she was going to go along with it! How many times had I watched Devilla struggle with this? And now it was my turn…

"Fine," I conceded, letting my arms drop as I walked past Bailey, heading toward the door. "I'll keep you company, but only during work hours. Devilla isn't paying me nearly enough to take you home with me."

"I follow."

"Look here, you…!" I growled, turning around, but my words died in my throat when I found that Bailey had already sunk down to her hands and knees. Her limbs started to shrink in on themselves, as her mouth pushed its way out into a snout. Within seconds she was back in wolf form, looking up at me with soft brown eyes, her tongue lolling out. I knew she was just panting, but I couldn't help but think that I was being teased.

Fighting off the urge to groan, I turned toward the door. Bailey followed me out, padding along on all fours. Thankfully, Devilla had been walking around with Bailey a lot lately, so the maids were getting used to the sight of a horned wolf walking down the hall. A few of them still let out muffled squeaks when they saw us, but most just squeezed against the wall and let us pass.

We reached the kitchen without any major incidents. Breakfast had been over for quite a while, and Devilla had canceled lunch, so most of the staff had long since cleared out. Thankfully there was one familiar figure still present, sweeping the floor.

"Cleanup duty again, huh? I thought you'd be above that by now. Didn't I hear you'd been made the Official Potato Chef?"

Lenora's head snapped up, her red eyes widened in surprise, but she relaxed when she saw it was just me. She gave me a quick smile before standing on her clawed toes to try and to look over my shoulder.

"Devilla's not here, if that's who you're looking for. She just sent me to get something."

"Oh…" I couldn't tell if the dragon girl was saddened or relieved. Maybe both? Devilla would probably be a lot happier if Lenora stopped putting her on a pedestal, but I doubted that was going to happen any time soon.

"So why are you sweeping?" I pressed. "Don't tell me you're still stuck on the lowest rung?"

"I-It's not that," Lenora said, shaking her head. "It's just that I'm only really good with potatoes right now, so one of the senior chefs said I should keep sweeping while I learn how to cook other dishes. Everyone else thought it was a good idea, too…"

"Uh-huh…" I didn't even try to hide the doubt in my voice or on my face. I'd seen firsthand how excited Lenora could get about cooking, and I was pretty sure she knew how to make a lot more than fries. The other chefs were probably just dumping their chores on her, but I didn't think she'd want me interfering - and she definitely wouldn't want me going to Devilla over it.

I was going to bring it up with Devilla anyway, of course, but telling Lenora that would just make her worry.

"S-So what are you doing here?" Lenora asked, her tail twitching nervously.

"Nothing big," I assured her. "I just promised Devilla I'd get her some peppermint oil. She said it would act as spider repellant, somehow? She didn't seem too sure of the details…" Devilla knew a lot of different things these days, but while her newfound wisdom seemed to be as broad as the ocean, it was only as deep as a puddle. If I poked her for specifics on anything she'd get all flustered.

"Pepper-mint oil?" Lenora echoed, frowning in thought. "Is that...Maybe… A cross between pepper and mint? Distilled into oil?"

"You've never heard of it either, huh? Guessing it's not something we have in the tower…" If I passed that info on to Devilla, she'd probably go looking for it elsewhere. Who knew how that would go? With her luck, she'd probably end up fighting an actual dragon… Though, if anyone could beat the King of Monsters, it was probably the Demon Queen.

"Sorry…" Lenora murmured, furrowing her brow. I thought maybe she was disappointed in herself, but the crease in her forehead disappeared before I could tell her not to worry about it. "We do have mint, though? And pepper? Maybe if you asked the Mistress of Agriculture she could crossbreed them or something. I mean, I know how to make oil with spearmint and the like, so I can probably do it with this 'pepper-mint' too."

"The Mistress of Agriculture, huh?" Now it was my turn to frown. Lenora was talking about Yara, the general of the tenth floor. I didn't know a lot about her, but what I'd heard was mostly positive. She was straightforward, hard-working, and honest, on top of being a strong warrior. She didn't think too highly of Devilla, though. Since I was now associated with the Demon Queen, it didn't take much imagination to picture what sort of welcome I'd receive.

I considered leaving it to Devilla. She could probably just order Yara to grow some "peppermint" for her and it would be over and done with. If I went, I'd be taking the full brunt of Yara's distaste with no guarantee of results. Normally, I'd call the choice obvious. Even Devilla would probably say waiting for her was the right call.

But that was exactly why I had to try. My Queen was doing her best to secure a future for our people. It was going to take at least a day for her to come back to the tower, and when she did she'd probably be exhausted, mentally if not physically. Despite that, I knew she'd insist on handling things herself once she found out how much work getting peppermint oil entailed. As if she wasn't already pushing herself harder than she should…

"Alright, I'll get Denna to help me send down an official request." Being the head of Devilla's household, Denna was technically even busier than the Demon Queen. The fate of our entire species didn't rest on her shoulders though, so the pressure was probably a little bit less. If I used Devilla's name right, she'd do pretty much anything I asked.

That still left me with one problem; the four-legged beast who was sitting patiently behind me, with her tongue lolling out and her eyes practically glued to my ass.

Walking with Bailey about the 101st floor was one thing, since the maids already knew about her, but taking what looked like a monster to another part of the tower was just asking for trouble. I doubted Bailey could be convinced not to follow me though, and ditching her via flight would cause more problems than it solved. I could have her shift into humanoid form, but I wasn't really sure how she'd react to complete strangers staring at her naked body. Not to mention the rumors that would spread if the Demon Queen's personal maid was seen escorting a naked demon down from the 101st floor. So far as I could figure, there was only one real option.

"Hey Bailey, how'd you like to raid your Queen's closet?"



Devilla

My wings beat lazily, magically propelling me through the air. The sun was high in the sky, evidence of how late I had slept in. It barely counted as an inconvenience for me, but Lissera had been quite upset about missing 'peak work hours'. She hadn't even waited for me to take off, running back to the village as fast as her slender legs could carry her.

After an hour of monotonous flying, the gray walls of Rendra city were finally coming into view. Rising a bit higher into the sky, I was able to see over the circular fortifications that surrounded the city. The sheer number of buildings crammed so tightly together struck me as impressive. In terms of population, Dimona Tower doubtlessly held more people. Its architecture was more impressive - though, considering it had been built by magic, that was a little like comparing apples to… Well, magically enhanced apples. Still, there was something impressive about seeing my first real city. Jacob's memories contained far greater metropolises, of course, but no matter how clearly I remembered living on Earth I had quite literally been a different person at the time. My current self had never seen so many buildings packed together, or so many humans crowding around each other. It felt like I had reached a milestone.

Despite being oddly touched by the sight, I still remembered to cover myself with an illusion to match the empty sky as I flew closer.

There were two openings in the wall, so far as I could tell, one on either side. The opening closest to me was blocked by an iron portcullis; although I couldn't see it from my current position, it seemed a safe assumption that the other one would be similarly defended. A long line of humans stretched from the gate closest to me; a similar procession could be seen on the other side.

As I flew closer, the gray walls loomed larger. Soon I could no longer see above them, and my focus shifted from the buildings within to the people lined up outside. From the bored expression they wore, I could guess that most of them had been waiting quite a while. If I took the time to wait my turn night would probably fall before I could get in. I was hardly phased by darkness, but if I couldn't find a place to trade my jewels for coins after arriving in the city I was going to have trouble finding an inn.

And that wasn't my only concern. When I focused my gaze on the front of the line, I noticed that every person who passed through stopped a moment to speak to the guards. They would then show the guards a slip of paper or hand over a few bronze coins. It seemed that if you wanted to enter the city legally you needed to either provide proper identification or pay a toll. Lacking either, I saw little choice but to sneak my way inside.

Maintaining my illusion, I flew above the city, searching for a good place to land. I decided on a low, squat building that had been built against the interior of the wall, some distance from the gate, in an area that seemed almost devoid of guards. The buildings in that area were covered in dirt, and several of the structures were crumbling if not already collapsed. The building I chose had several cracks running through its roof; the whole thing would likely fall apart if I were to stomp too hard. It wasn't the sort of building anyone would pay attention to, which made it perfect for my purposes.

Gently landing on the rooftop, I dismissed both my spell and my wings, then walked to the edge of the building to peer out onto the streets. This particular structure was off the main road, hidden behind several other buildings, which meant you'd have to go through a veritable maze of sideroads and alleyways to even see it. Even still, there were a few people wandering the tiny street that ran in front of it. Likely they were people like me, trying to avoid notice. To look at them, they were fairing no better than the local buildings; their clothes ragged, their faces dirty, and their expressions grim. This area was well suited to my purposes, but looking out upon the poverty-stricken citizenry… it made me uncomfortable. I had to wonder if there were places like this in Dimona Tower, where my people starved and basic necessities went unmet, and whether I could do anything to fix that.

That question would have to wait until my next check-in, however. For now, I needed to get out of there without being seen. I moved over to the rightmost edge of the building and scouted the alley below. Seeing nothing but an empty street, I hopped over the side and let gravity take me. My feet struck the ground, my legs not even bending, the shock of impact not so much as phasing me. Alas, my divine resilience did nothing for my balance. My heeled foot slipped as it hit the ground, sending me tumbling onto my ass.

I stood back up quickly, glad nobody had seen that, and was in the middle of dusting myself off when a figure darted into the alleyway. She was panting heavily, her eyes wide and full of fear, her body half doubled over as she barreled down the street. She didn't seem to notice me, perhaps because of the dimness of the alley, but more likely because she was so preoccupied with glancing back the way she'd come. All of a sudden, she plastered herself against the alley wall and stared intently out into the open street she'd left behind.

I was still deciding whether or not I should speak up when another figure strode into the alley, followed by two more. The apparent leader was another woman, with shiny blonde hair and bright orange eyes that were narrowed in irritation. Her well-groomed form made her seem like a completely different species than the first girl, whose green hair was covered in dirt and grease. The blonde's skin was clear and unblemished, her cheeks round and well-fed. Her clothes seemed well made, even to my untrained eye; while I couldn't say anything about the materials from sight alone, I could tell that the outfit had been tailored to fit her form.

As for the men who followed her, I could only see them as thugs. Their faces were nearly identical, from their squashed noses to their beady little eyes. They had arms like tree trunks and legs thick enough around that they wouldn't have been out of place on an elephant. Both of them were wearing brown shirts with short cut sleeves that showed off their muscles, and similarly colored pants. The one on the right had a small green flower embroidered on one side of his britches, which was practically his sole defining feature. Perhaps they were identical twins? The similarity of their clothes made me wonder if it was some sort of uniform, or if they were purposefully leaning into the stereotype of interchangeable goons.

The twins kept a few feet back from the girl, standing side by side so as to completely block the alley's exit. Since this path led to a dead-end, it didn't seem like I'd be able to leave without engaging them.

The blonde woman's lips thinned in displeasure as she looked about the dirty alleyway, her eyes sliding right past the first woman to settle on me.

"You there!" she called in an imperial tone, striding past the other woman and walking right up to me. "Have you seen a green-haired girl? A raggedy little thing. There's a shiny cross in it for you if you can tell me where she is."

My eyes darted to the aforementioned figure, whose eyes were now focused entirely on me. She was pale and trembling, perhaps due to noticing me for the first time. Perhaps she was worried that I'd turn her in? From the way the blonde ignored her, I could only assume she was wielding some sort of magic to avoid detection, but for some reason it was having no effect on me.

The blonde girl turned to track my gaze. Slowly, her irritated expression morphed into a smirk. "Is it just me, or is that part of the alley unnaturally dark?"

Dark? It didn't look that way to me. Then again, with night vision as good as mine, even night and day were sometimes difficult to tell apart. Perhaps the girl was manipulating light to surround herself with shadows?

The blonde woman glanced over her shoulder at the thugs who, as if on cue, stepped toward the supposedly dark space. The green-haired girl's eyes were now flitting about frantically. I couldn't help but feel a little guilty. My glance had led the blonde straight to her, and it didn't seem like they were friends. In fact, one of the men was drawing his arm back as I watched, while the hidden girl was trembling so much was honestly surprised that she could remain upright. It was possible that the thug would miss, since he couldn't see his prey, but I didn't think it would take many swings for him to find her. If she dropped the spell and ran she'd be found out all the faster. Even moving about within the shadows might reveal her location if her opponent had good hearing. No matter what choice she made, I didn't think the girl would escape these three unscathed.

"Excuse me," I called out before the man could complete his swing. "Can you tell me why you're after her?"

"Huh?" The blonde glanced at me, then snarled. The thug paused midswing, turning his gaze to her as if seeking additional instructions, but the blonde ignored him. "What's it to you? You stick your nose into every stranger's business? Get out of here, unless you're offering to pay her dues."

"I'm afraid I don't have much in the way of money, other than perhaps that 'shiny cross' you mentioned, but-"

"Then get going," the blonde growled, pointing toward the entrance of the alley with her thumb. Both men pressed themselves against the wall, giving me a clear path. "This isn't any of your business."

I stared at the blonde for a moment, unsure what to say. She was right. This was none of my concern. I wasn't a resident of these slums, a citizen of this city, or even a member of their species. I had no ties whatsoever to this green-haired girl, who could be in trouble for any number of reasons. Perhaps the actions of this woman and her thugs were even justified. Sticking around and getting into trouble would only cause me to break my promise to Abigail, and draw unnecessary attention to myself.

By all rights, the proper move was to extricate myself. That was the right move.

It was…

My gaze shifted to the girl they were targeting. Her eyes kept flicking between me and her assailants, wide with terror. I was still in the midst of my hesitation when the blonde began to speak again.

"Looks like we have a new obstacle, boys. You two start punching the shadows, I'll take care of Miss Goody Two Shoes." Even as she spoke, the blonde casually withdrew a dagger from her belt. Its simple leather handle was well worn, and the confidence with which she held it made me think that she was well used to wielding it. While it was doubtful she'd be able to do any real damage to me with such a thing, I eyed it warily all the same. I didn't need rumors spreading of a woman whose skin couldn't be pierced by blades.

"W-Wait!" the green-haired woman shouted, raising her hands to guard her face. "You don't want to-ack!" The girl was forced to duck; her words were cut off as one of the men slammed a fist against the wall, hard enough to make it tremble, causing the brick he'd hit to crumble into pebbles.

"Do you really have time to be paying attention to someone else!?" the blonde demanded. I shifted focus back to my own fight to find the woman running toward me with her dagger out front. It looked as if she intended to ram the blade into my stomach; a simple, but effective strategy, especially if your opponent was distracted.

I didn't even try to dodge. Instead, I reached for my magic, allowing the familiar warmth of its energy to rise from within me, and then pushed the power down from the soles of my feet, through the heels of my shoes, and into the earth. I drew moisture from deep within the ground up into the earth beneath the blonde's feet, turning the tamped down dirt into far softer mud. My attacker's feet slid out from under her; she likely would have fallen onto her own dagger, had I not caused a tendril of mud to shoot out and slap it free of her grip. As it was, she ended up flopping face-first into the wet soil, with nothing injured but her pride.

The thugs had thankfully stopped their attack on the green-haired girl and were now coming toward me. Seeing little choice but to fight at this point, I hopped over the blonde and calmly walked forward. Avoiding the first attack was as simple as tilting my head to the right. The second blow was aimed at my stomach, meant to catch me off guard, but I blocked this one with my arm, catching the meaty fist with my relatively slender limb. I could feel strength behind the punch, but I might as well have been hit with a feather for all the good it did the thug. I turned his blow aside, then grabbed hold of his arm and swept him sideways into his brother. There was a solid thwack as one dense body met another, and I felt the force of the impact running through me. Completely unaffected, I repeated my trick of turning dirt into mud. The earth trembled beneath my feet as the thugs were reduced to a tangle of limbs on the ground.

With that sorted, I turned my attention to the green-haired girl. She was staring at me with wide eyes and an open mouth. Rather than trying to speak, it almost seemed as if she were trying not to scream.

"...You do realize I just saved you, yes?" I didn't think I'd gone particularly overboard while taking care of her assailants. I'd certainly done nothing to warrant this sort of reaction.

"S-Saved me…?" The girl's eyes darted to the blonde, who was slowly managing to get back on her feet, before shifting to the two thugs who were pushing against each other as they attempted to rise up from the muck.

"Perhaps I spoke too soon…" I tapped my foot against the ground, transmitting a stream of magic down into the earth. A massive hand emerged from the street, its fingers grasping hold of the blonde and slamming her against the wall, where it kept her pinned. She responded with an ungraceful squawk and began to hammer at it with her fists. Although the blonde's prison was constructed from nothing but dirt, my magic had compressed it to such a point that there was little difference between it and solid rock. All the same, flakes of it were coming off with each punch, and I was sure she'd be able to work her way out of it eventually.

I left her to work on her prison, turning my attention back to the thugs only to discover that they were already upright and booking it out of the alley as fast as their stocky legs could carry them. Perhaps they intended to report this to their boss? That would likely come back to bite me if I didn't take care of things here and now.

I turned back to the woman I had trapped. She was still pounding on her prison, her face twisted with anger as she let loose a stream of curses. She was making steady progress, but she was still at least an hour from her freedom, assuming she could keep up the pace. As I hardly had time for that, I walked forward to touch the hand that held her, forcibly loosening the dirt and allowing it to crumble. Unprepared for sudden freedom the blonde toppled, landing on her hands and knees.

"May I ask for your name?" I gave my former prisoner a polite smile, crouching down next to her.

The blonde glared at me, her green eyes narrowed in anger. "Look, I don't know what sob story Feyra hooked you with, but we're not the bad guys here - we're just collecting the money she owes."

"I already paid you back," the green-haired girl - Feyra? - sulkily protested from behind me. "The money I have left is for my medicine."

"You mean that nasty potion habit?" The blonde spat. "I don't care what you do to your body with that junk, but you forgot to pay the interest. It's up to three saints."

"Three saints!? There's no way I owe that much! I only borrowed five crosses…"

I cleared my throat, drawing the attention of both women back to myself. "I'm not entirely sure as to the circumstances but, if I understand correctly, the issue can be resolved by a payment of money?"

"Hey, if you wanna claim that girl's debt, it's all yours, but I'm going to have to insist on payment upfront - Mama Marion doesn't take kindly to people reneging on what they owe. Understand?"

I nodded with deliberate slowness, trying to buy myself time to piece everything together. Crosses and saints were apparently a form of currency. From the sounds of it, this Feyra had borrowed a small amount and ended up owing a much larger sum. In other words, she'd probably gone to a loan shark to pay for her "potion habit".

This really wasn't my concern, then. Whatever trouble Feyra was in, she'd gotten into it on her own. Besides which, disputes involving money and debts weren't the sort of thing that could be resolved purely through brute force or magic power.

That said, if all the girl needed was money...

"Very well," I declared. "She will have what she owes by tomorrow, if not tonight. For now, I ask that you leave her in my care."

"Excuse me, I said I needed payment upfront?" the blonde snapped, standing upright to glare at me.

I tapped the toe of my shoe against the ground. This time I drew up so much water that the blonde's feet and ankles sank into the muck. She squeaked, and fell forward, fear momentarily flickering across her features. I hardened the earth directly below her feet and placed a hand under her shoulder, pushing her upright.

"You…" The blonde trailed off, glaring up at me and gritting her teeth. After a moment of this, however, she reluctantly nodded her assent. "Alright. She has until tomorrow. But after that, I'm gathering all Mama's forces, understand? It doesn't matter how strong you are, you'll go down under the weight of our numbers."

I doubted that. Still, while I would remain unscathed, I couldn't be certain that those around me would fare so well. If Feyra was to survive this, she was going to need to pay back the money she owed.

"Three saints, correct? If you try to claim more, in the name of a day's delay I will be… displeased." I mimicked her glare, trying to add weight to my words. The bluff seemed to work, as the blonde flinched beneath my gaze.

"Fine," she muttered, turning her head away as if to hide her expression from me. "As long as she can pay the full amount by tomorrow's end, we'll call it done and everyone can go their merry way. But if she's even one virtue short…"

"I understand completely." I didn't even try to keep the irritation from my voice as I held out my hand. "I will get her the coin she needs. If she fails to pay you back despite my funding, it will have nothing to do with me. Agreed?"

The blonde studied my proffered hand for a long moment. The look upon her face, as if someone had forced her to suck upon a lemon, spoke to her distaste, but in the end she slowly reached out to shake my hand. The blonde's white knuckles made me think she was putting everything she had into her grip, but her valiant efforts brought me far closer to amusement than discomfort.

"Fine," she muttered afterward. "But don't think I'll forget the humiliation you've dealt me today."

Spouting lines more fit for a cartoon villain than an actual person, the disheveled blonde yanked herself from the mud, marching past Feyra and out of the alley. It was only then that I realized she had never responded to my request for her name. Not that I particularly cared to learn it.

With that bit of unpleasantness taken care of, I at last turned my attention to Feyra, whose back was literally against the wall. I had made a deal on her behalf, but it wasn't out of the kindness of my heart. It was time to extract compensation.



Feyra

I stared after Kalice as she marched from the alley, silently wishing that I could follow. She might have been a bitch who treated me like I was worth less than the mud on her shoes, but even getting beaten seemed far better than being left alone with my 'savior'. As a fellow adventurer, Kalice must have had some idea of her opponent's terrifying power; otherwise she'd never have accepted such a one-sided offer. I doubted she realized the full truth, though. There was no way she'd be so calm if she knew that the brunette hadn't used even a fraction of her true strength. From my perspective, it was obvious that she'd been toying with them from the start. Making them fall over each other, pinning them against the wall… If she'd been serious about fighting them, she could have reduced them all to ash.

And that monster was looking at me now, with a horrible smile on her lips. I swallowed hard and pressed my back against the wall. Every fiber of my being was screaming at me to flee, but I forced myself to remain in place. Just like Kalice had sensed that it was impossible to fight this creature, I knew that running from her would be useless. She wouldn't even need to chase me. She could just wave her hand in my general direction and I'd explode. Or maybe I'd dissolve into the darkness, and be reborn as one of her minions; a fitting end for someone with cursed blood like mine.

I was a little surprised she hadn't done it preemptively. I mean, she was the Demon Queen. She had to be! Sure, she looked human enough. Her single most distinctive feature, her snow-white hair, had been disguised, probably with some sort of dye. With her soft hands, which didn't look like they'd ever seen a day's work, and her finely crafted clothes, made of who knew what material, she could probably pass as a noble's daughter. At the very least, you wouldn't think she was the harbinger of all evil. I was likely one of the few people in all the world who could see her true nature.

"Is everything okay?" the monster asked. The softness in her expression, the way her shoulders had relaxed since Kalice left the alley… She clearly didn't see me as a threat. Why would she? She could end me with a flick of her finger. "You're trembling."

"I'm fine," I lied. Despite my best efforts, I couldn't keep my body from shaking. "Just a little freaked out by… uh… the whole situation."

The monster seemed to think her disguise was intact. That was good. There was no telling what she'd do if she knew I'd seen through her disguise. What was the Demon Queen even doing here!? Was she here to take the Heroine's head? There were tales of her showing up on the battlefield, but nothing about her just walking around like a normal person! If I told anyone about it, they'd think I was crazy just for suggesting it.

There was no doubting it, though; not for me. My bloodline had the unique ability to see magic energy, and the sheer amount of it flowing through this woman was insane. Looking at her with my Sight active was like staring directly into the sun. I'd always wondered if the tales I'd heard about the Demon Queen's power were exaggerated, but if anything they weren't giving her enough credit. I was pretty sure every adventurer in the city could attack her at the same time, and they wouldn't even leave a scratch. Hell, the army could go after her, and it wouldn't do any good!

"Are you sure you're alright?" the Demon Queen pressed, reaching out to touch my forehead, as if she was concerned that I was sick. "You've been staring at me for a while…"

"I-I'm fine!" I reassured her, forcing a smile. "See? Cheery, even! I mean, you're going to pay my debts, right?" I couldn't imagine what might have driven her to say such things, but I'd have to act like everything was fine if I wanted to survive the night.

"...If you're sure." The Demon Queen shook her head, folding her arms across her admittedly impressive chest. "Well then. I suppose we can discuss how you're to earn your three saints."

Three saints. Did this monster even know human money? Did she not realize how much that was!? Or wait… there were rumors, among the adventurers, that the Demon Queen was sitting on a great deal of wealth. It wasn't worth storming the tower over, so far as I was concerned, but I had met quite a few adventurers who were willing to sign up for the invasion force, in return for a share of that theoretical treasure.

"W-What do I need to do?" I asked, unable to keep my voice from trembling. I didn't want blood money. If I was willing to hurt people, I would have been able to cut a deal with Mama Marion on my own. But I didn't want to die, either…

"Simple." The monster gave me a small smile, as if trying to reassure me. "I require a guide. First, you will take me to a jewelry store, then to the adventurer's guild, and finally you will show me to an inn. After that, you will be paid, enough to free yourself of your debts. A good deal for both of us, is it not?"

I couldn't stop my mouth from dropping open in surprise. A good deal? Three saints for showing her to three places!? It was ludicrously one-sided! Assuming she kept her word, at least.

"Alright," I replied, after pretending to think about it. Being a good guide was my one and only chance at survival. That meant taking her to a trustworthy jeweler. Someone who wouldn't cheat her, or otherwise anger her enough to go on a rampage…

As it happened Amessa, my potion contact, worked from the back of her father's jewelry shop. The old man was always giving me dirty looks over my choice of potions, but from what I knew he was serious about his work, and so far as I knew he wasn't in the habit of cheating his customers. Hopefully, he could be trusted not to send the Demon Queen into a rage.

Sending a silent prayer to the Goddess, I turned toward the alley's exit. "I think I know the perfect place…"



Many thanks to my editor, paradoxicalWitchling, who greatly improved this piece, and to FallingLeaf for proofreading!

So, I tried something new with this one - I put in headers to indicate the POV character for the section! I don't have much else to say on this one. The most notable thing about it is that it features a section from Feyra's point of view. It's also pretty short for a chapter of DQ - I wrote it while on the verge of burning out. In fact, I did burn out after finishing it. I didn't manage to edit and release it for 7 months after the fact. Thankfully I've already recovered from that, and will be posting chapter 13 tomorrow!

As always, I hope you had fun reading! If you're interested in supporting me, please consider joining my Patreon! I'll be releasing everything up to chapter 13 over the next couple weeks, but generally new chapters stay on Patreon for two weeks before being released to the public - though admittedly most of that time is generally spent getting it edited and proofread. The lowest tier you can get access with is $1, while the higher tiers - $5+ - get you access to my one-shots a month before I post them anywhere else. (I generally try to get those edited during that one month time span, as well.)
 
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Chapter 13
I followed Feyra out of the alley, keeping close as she led me through the maze of sidestreets. She set a fast pace, her hands tucked into her trouser pockets and her head bowed as if trying to shut herself off from the world. At first, I thought she might be impatient to reach the relative safety of a major road, but, even after leaving the sideroads behind, she refused to slow down.

The buildings grew steadily nicer as we traveled, at least in cleanliness, if not in architecture. We were still far from the wealthy parts of the city, but the people around us seemed well-fed and healthy, at least compared to Feyra. Back in the slums, my relatively well-kempt appearance had garnered quite a few looks of surprise and suspicion, but now the locals' stares were split equally between Feyra and me, as if unsure what either of us were doing there.

While I certainly stood out more than I'd intended, I was relieved to see that my choice of attire wasn't too far from what the locals wore. My skirt, which stopped right above my knees, was perhaps an inch or two shorter than that of those around me, and while my sleeveless green top was certainly outside the norm, it seemed to inspire mild surprise rather than full-on shock. I was a bit relieved to find that the eyes upon me were filled with curiosity rather than offense. I thought I saw a hint of anxiety as well, from those whose attention lingered, but at the speed we were traveling I had no time to check.

Still, I was undeniably drawing more attention than I'd hoped. I briefly considered buying some more traditional human attire once I had the funds, but quickly dismissed the idea. The curiosity of the human locals' was vastly preferable to the suspicion of my fellow demons, should anyone discover clothing of foreign make and materials in my possession. Instead, I turned my attention to a much more pressing concern.

"Must you walk so fast?" It wasn't as if I had any trouble keeping up. No matter how fast Feyra moved, I could in theory go faster and further. However, she was rather tall at five foot nine, and her long legs naturally led to long strides. I could only match Feyra's pace by resorting to a jog. I was managing that well enough for the time being, but my heels made it all too easy to misstep when traveling at this speed. Between this and my earlier slip, I was becoming more and more aware of the complications they could cause when I couldn't compensate with my wings.

"S-sorry!" Feyra stuttered out, coming to a halt so suddenly that I almost slammed into her backside. "I'll go slower, okay? Just please don't get mad."

"I hardly see myself getting angry over something so trivial," I protested. The way Feyra flinched in response made it clear just how much she feared my displeasure. Had my handling of her assailants truly been so brutal?

"It's only that I won't be able to pay you if you lose me in the crowd," I explained, forcing my face to a neutral state. A gentle smile would have been preferable, but I doubted I could make it look sincere. I was used to faking indifference in the face of fear and hatred, but I was not confident in my ability to force a smile.

"Right. Wouldn't want that…" Feyra stared at the ground as she spoke, pointedly denying my attempt to look her in the eyes. For some strange reason, her voice sounded almost wistful to my ears. Did she not want the saints I'd promised her? This girl was an enigma to me.

"Well, we're pretty much here, anyway." Feyra gestured to her right.

The shop Feyra indicated was a two-story-tall building made of gray stone. It was largely indistinct from the buildings surrounding it, except for a small wooden sign that hung from an iron pole. Devoid of lettering, the sign's only decoration was a rough carving in the shape of a gem, colored a pale red. It had been commissioned long ago if the peeling paint was anything to go by.

"This is the Ruby Shop," Feyra continued. "Sorry, but I've never been anywhere fancier than this…" Her face was filled with anxiety, as if she expected me to object.

"You needn't worry so much," I chided. "A gilded appearance does not always translate to better service." My words did nothing to reduce the terror in her eyes, and I couldn't stop myself from grimacing. Wanting to escape the expression she bore, I turned to the establishment and opened the door.

Although the shop had seemed quite large from without, the interior was surprisingly cramped. Cabinets lined the walls, containing downward slanted shelves with interspaced ridges that held various accessories in place. Although I saw a large selection of jewelry, with a wide variety of designs, the majority of them were constructed of copper or brass. Most likely the 'stones' set inside them were nothing more than pretty glass.

In the center of the room were four long counters pressed together, positioned to form a rectangle. Rather than solid tops, these display cases were covered by wooden slats. Stepping forward and peering between them, I could see pieces made with silver and gold. There were hinges on the counter's inner edge and a small locked latch on the side closest to me.

"If you want a proper look at something, just ask," called a gruff voice from the far-right corner of the room. Turning in that direction revealed a rather squat man, whose feet did not reach the ground despite the short stature of his stool. The bushy black beard that covered half his face was streaked with gray, and there were wrinkles around his red eyes. Was this the shopkeeper, then?

Before I could inquire, the man's attention shifted away from me towards my companion, and his lips pulled into a scowl. "Oh, so she's with you, brat. We can skip the useless chatter then - Amessa's in the back."

"She's here for you, old man," Feyra spat back. "Be happy you have a customer for once and treat her with a little respect."

"A customer, eh?" The jeweler looked me up and down, but the frown never left his face. If anything he seemed even less pleased with my presence. "You go daft, brat? What's the point in bringing a high-class lady here? You think I got anything of interest for someone who could buy up my shop on a whim?"

Feyra stepped forward, but I held up a hand to stop her progress. The withering look faded from her eyes in an instant, and her mouth snapped shut. She stepped back, exiting my sight as I stifled a tired sigh. Seeing how Feyra behaved towards those who didn't scare her drove home just how much of her true self she'd been hiding from me. What exactly had I done to make someone with such an abrasive personality turn timid? Unfortunately, this was neither the time nor place for a heart to heart chat. Instead, I reluctantly shifted my attention back to the shop's proprietor.

"I'm not sure how you guessed my status, but I won't try to deny it, nor will I feign interest in your wares. I came in the hopes of selling my own goods."

The shopkeeper's frown had not relaxed at all, but at least it hadn't grown any worse. Although he was still glaring at me, I thought I saw a spark of curiosity in those red eyes. The seconds ticked by without a response, however, and I began to wonder if I had imagined it. I glanced back at Feyra, hoping that she could tell me whether his silence was meant as a rejection, only to discover her staring at the man too intensely to even take notice of me. For some reason, despite her scowl, the look in Feyra's eyes could only be described as pleading.

Unable to read the intentions of either party, I saw little choice but to press forward and hope for the best. Reaching into the Empty Bag at my waist, I pulled out two gems, a ruby and a sapphire, each small enough for me to close my hands about them both at once. I had little idea as to their worth in human lands, but I hoped that they would net me more than three saints between them. If not, I would have to draw out one of my larger stones.

"Those…" The word was uttered in a low pitch, his voice far softer than it had been so far. I fought to keep myself from smiling, knowing he'd spoken too quietly for a human to hear. My brief happiness faded however, when the man went quiet, simply staring at the gems.

The silence dragged on, my anxiety growing stronger with each passing moment. Were these stones perhaps more valuable than I'd anticipated? I was starting to regret my choice to take out two at once. I cannot say how long the shopkeeper's silence lasted, but I felt nothing but relief when it was finally broken with a grunt.

"Never thought I'd see something like those in this dingy shop," the man admitted, again speaking under his breath, before raising his voice enough for everyone to hear. "If you weren't so obviously highborn, I'd be telling you off for trying to fence your stolen goods in my shop. As is, I'm just gonna ask what the hell made you want to sell them in the outer edge of the city? Nobody who shops here could afford those things."

"But surely you have contacts who could take them off your hands?" I raised an eyebrow as I spoke, trying to seem confident while resisting the urge to curse. It was clear that the gems I had taken from the vault really were of higher quality than I'd intended. Still, I thought it would be preferable to avoid larger establishments, where I might draw the attention of those familiar with wealthy families. I had no idea how I'd handle it if they started questioning me about my lineage.

The shopkeeper let out another grunt in response, sliding off his stool. He was a little taller than I'd thought, now that I could see him upright; he measured perhaps five feet, or at least somewhere close to it. The look in his eyes, however, remained unpleasant. The only difference was that wariness had joined his mixture of curiosity and anger.

"You didn't answer my question," he pointed out, angrily walking toward me.

"Does it matter?" I replied flatly. Although I couldn't see my expression, I was certain that it was indecipherable. After having spent many nights absorbed in self-pity and misery, I had gotten quite adept at hiding my true feelings.

"Do you think I'm an idiot!?" the shopkeep roared, his expelled spittle landing by my feet. "Being highborn doesn't mean you're not trouble! If anything, your kind brings more problems than most! Why should I stick my neck out for someone who'd treat me like dirt if she didn't need me?"

Anger flared to life within me, matching the proprietor's own fury. I could accept the hatred of those who I had wronged. I knew full well that I deserved that and more from my own people, but this man's harsh judgment, based purely on the perceived circumstances of my birth, was different. It brought to mind the treatment my kind received from humans for the simple crime of existing.

The shopkeep took a step backward, almost tripping over his own feet in his haste to get away from me. Only then did I realize I was scowling, my fists tightly clenched. I did not want to imagine how terrible the look in my eyes must have been to have inspired such fear. To think that I would have so little control of myself! Despite Abigail's continual insistence that I had become a better person, it was clear that in my core I remained unchanged, as terrible as I had ever been.

This time I did not bother to supress my sigh. Letting my hands relax, I shook my head in disappointment with myself.

"It seems I've let my anger get the best of me. I would ask that you refrain from making assumptions about others with so little evidence, but I doubt it would mean much coming from me, considering how my actions have likely strengthened your opinions. I am sorry for my rudeness, for the record." I gave Feyra a bitter smile. "I apologize to you as well. It seems I'll have to drag you about a little longer than I intended."

I put the stones back in my bag, and walked to the door. I didn't dare look at Feyra as I passed her by; I had no desire to see how much her fear of me had grown. Even if she hadn't seen the anger on my face, she couldn't have missed the shopkeeper's reaction, or my fists. I could only hope that she'd still be willing to guide me, in light of her promised reward. I wanted to end the day as quickly as I could. Hopefully I'll have better luck pretending to be a good person tomorrow.

"Wait a damned second!"

My hand, which was already reaching for the door, hesitated for a moment, before falling to my side. I turned back, not bothering to hide the mix of curiosity and regret running through me. I doubted the shopkeeper would believe the sincerity of the latter, but I couldn't muster up enough energy to hold my emotions back.

The man was scowling, his eyes focused upon the unadorned stone floor. I watched him in silence, as the expression on his face grew darker and darker, his jaw becoming so tense that it seemed like his teeth would break under the strain. Finally, he glared up at me, anger burning in his eyes. Knowing he could do nothing to harm me didn't prevent a thrill of fear from running up my spine. Was this how I had made him feel? I had truly done something terrible.

"You…" The shopkeep took a deep breath, then pursed his lips and released a loud sigh, the anger visibly melting away as the air left him. "I was never very good at being polite. My pa always claimed I could go places if I got better with it. Ma said I was more likely to get myself killed if I tried. Say the wrong word to a highborn, and your head's on the chopping block, y'know? Always thought that was better than having to suck up to some brat, though." He shuffled his feet, slightly, and rubbed the back of his head. "Figured if doing business with you was gonna get me in trouble, one way or the other, I might as well go out the way I wanted to… Regretted it pretty damn quickly when you looked at me like that, though."

My heart twinged as my guilt grew. I still had no idea how he'd pieced together my high status - surely my clothes weren't that much of a giveaway!? - but I should have reconsidered my plan the moment he realized I was from the upper echelons. Judging by this man's reactions, it seemed that human nobles were far from kind. By failing to take that into account I had caused him to fear for his life.

"Didn't help that your girl there looked like she was gonna faint by the time I finished speaking."

I glanced back at Feyra, surprised and ashamed to see that she looked pale as a ghost. If the proprietor was to be believed, her fear had started with his words, rather than my reaction. Was that a sign that she'd shared the shopkeeper's expectations? If she'd suspected I was of noble lineage from the start, it might explain her behavior so far.

I wanted to ask her, but it would have to wait. She was shuddering, her pink eyes desperately avoiding mine. That, combined with her silence, told me she had no desire to enter this conversation. For now, I turned my attention back to the shopkeeper.

"I truly am sorry for putting you under such strain. I did not fully consider how my presence here would look." As tempting as it was to lay some of the blame at Feyra's feet, she had only been driven by a fear of retribution should she fail me. If I'd put more thought into why she was so terrified of me, none of this would have happened.

For some reason, the shopkeeper's mouth twisted up in displeasure at my words. "Never thought I'd hear a highborn apologizing," he muttered. "Yet alone twice… Something unnatural about it. Makes my skin crawl."

I opened my mouth, only to pause. Since my contrition was the very thing I wished to apologize for, I wasn't entirely sure how to proceed. Lost in my thoughts, I almost missed it when the man began to speak again.

"Worst part of it is that I'm the one who did the insulting, and yet you're saying sorry like it's natural. And Goddess help me, I think you mean it." He scowled again. "What's your name, girl?"

I gawked at the man, my brain on standby as I attempted to process his words. While I wouldn't say the shopkeeper had been right to judge me sight unseen, I had most definitely overreacted to what was ultimately a minor slight. Why was he speaking as if he was in the wrong?

"I-" I opened my mouth to correct him, but the words caught in my throat when he glared at me again.

"Your name, girl." The shopkeeper's tone matched the anger in his eyes. It would brook no argument.

"Eena…" I paused for a moment, before adding, "Divington." I was grateful that I'd already decided upon my false identity's family name, even if it was as simple as copying Jacob's. Although I had no intention of spreading it around, a human noble would almost certainly be expected to have one.

The man grunted in response, then ran his hand along the base of his beard. "Divington, huh? Don't know that name… Never seen clothes like yours either. You not from around here?"

"No. I'm not." I kept my tone neutral, and my reply terse, hoping to get my message across. I had no knowledge of human kingdoms or cities; making up a homeland was far too great a risk, with no discernable reward.

The shopkeep grunted in acknowledgement. "Name's Gerard. Let that girl out for some fresh air, eh? We can talk business while she's gone."

I nodded in agreement. Feyra must have noticed, since she was already heading for the door by the time I turned around. The way her hand trembled when she reached for the handle convinced me to focus on Gerard instead.

"Earlier, you seemed to think dealing with me would be too great a risk. May I ask what changed your mind?"

"Well, the fact that you're not from around here helps a bit… Don't know your reasons for coming here, but I'm thinking your problems are less likely to bite me if they're not rooted here." The corner of Gerard's mouth curved upward in the first smile I'd seen from him. "'Sides, you don't act like any noble I've ever heard of, begging my pardon like that. Too bad I value my hide too much to spread the tale. Might have earned me a couple drinks at the pub." He was grinning broadly, now, which made it clear that he was mostly joking.

"Well, I can worry about that when this is done," he continued. "For now, why don't you show me one of those pretty stones?"

"Just one?" I asked, reaching back into my bag. I decided on the ruby since it was a close match for Gerard's eyes. It was rather flimsy as reasons went, but for a choice as inconsequential as this, it was as good a reason as any.

"Just one," Gerard confirmed, his lips turning downward again. I couldn't help wondering how could manage a business like this when he was so quick to show his temper to clientele. "Getting rid of this thing is gonna be trouble enough. You must live with your head in the clouds if you think I know anyone who could buy them both."

Taking the ruby from my hand, Gerard walked back to his starting corner and climbed atop his stool. Grabbing a lit lantern from the wall, he held the gem up to the light and examined it from every angle. Then he put the lantern back and hopped down, walking back to me. His lips were pressed together so tightly that I could hardly tell where one ended and the other began.

"Best I can do for you is a downpayment - and at a fraction of its worth, too. Can't tell you how much I'd be giving you at the end, either. I've got no idea how much it's worth, let alone what I'll be able to sell it to another jeweler for. Can't say when you'd get your money, either - could be a few weeks." He shook his head, and let out a short, bitter laugh. "Like hell anyone would go for that. Don't worry, I can name a few shops that could buy it properly."

"I'd rather sell it here if it's all the same to you," I stated, my voice resolute.

Gerard gave me another hard stare. "Just promise me I won't get beheaded over this."

I frowned, thinking it over for a moment. I could see apprehension spreading across Gerard's face; he was obviously disconcerted that I could not immediately respond. "I cannot guarantee the future," I confessed at last, "but I can come close. The gem is rightfully mine, and your purchase is hardly a crime. I truly cannot see someone hunting you down for something as minor as this."

Gerard studied me, looking for any sign of a lie as he weighed my words. I was confident in my assertion though. Even if I failed in my own plans, even if I was killed, I had spoken to far too many people - including the Heroine herself - for the church to execute them all. If nothing else, Lucy would never allow it.

After a long while, Gerard lowered his head, and began to stroke his beard, muttering to himself. Although I felt guilty for eavesdropping, nothing short of blocking my ears would prevent me from hearing his words. "She really is trouble but she's pretty decent for a noble, I guess. Leaving her to stew in hot water by myself… Could get killed if I do it. Likely won't ever see her again if I don't. Not knowing if she survived or not… Go down one road I might die, go down the other and I'll have nightmares for life…"

Gerard lifted his head and stared into my eyes. I wondered if he could see the guilt in them. I didn't want him putting himself at risk out of concern for me, but I couldn't afford to turn down what help I could get. My mission was too crucial to my people's future.

"...Screw it!" he exclaimed suddenly, displaying the brightest smile I'd seen from him. "I doubt I'll ever see another stone so clear and flawless, no matter how long I live. Let's talk shop."





I trailed behind Feyra, this time walking at a much more reasonable pace. In the end, Gerard and I had negotiated a downpayment of five saints, paid to me through a mixture of the various coins. I would come back in a month, and would claim seventy-five percent of the profits, minus what he'd already disbursed. I had no idea if that was a good deal or not. I wanted to believe that Gerard wasn't the sort to cheat me, but my inexperience in such matters had been quite obvious. Honestly, I was just glad that he'd attributed any ignorance to my status. Nobles would normally have servants making their purchases for them, after all. That hadn't prevented his exasperation when I asked for information on the local currency though.

Still, the information I'd gained was worth a few eye rolls and exaggerated groans. As it turned out, human currency was quite a bit different from ours. We collectively referred to our coins as 'fallens', while humans had different names for each denomination. Golden saints were worth ten silver crosses, which were worth ten copper virtues. These coins were minted by the church, which allowed for standardized currency throughout the continent.

The true value of each coin was still a mystery to me, but even I could see that saints were worth quite a bit. It was hard to believe that Feyra's debt of five crosses had somehow ballooned to such an extent. This 'Mama Marion'... Just how desperate did you have to be to borrow from her? I knew there was nothing I could do for Feyra, short of paying her - I had no power to arrest her 'benefactor', and I didn't even know if the woman's actions would be considered criminal. All the same, the idea of capitulating to her unreasonable interest rates was a bitter one. When I thought about how many others she'd taken advantage of I wondered, briefly, how much force I could put into a punch without killing someone.

That was a dangerous thought, one I had to destroy before it could take root. Compared to the threat of extinction faced by my people, loan sharks were hardly worthy of attention. I was here to deepen my relationship with Lucy, not to fight against injustice within a human city. I needed her to trust me enough to accept my true self. Only then could we forge a lasting peace between demons and humans. Perhaps then I'd be able to do as I pleased…

"We're here."

Feyra's voice brought me to a halt, both physically and mentally. Looking about, I quickly spotted our destination: the Queen's Crown. It was quite close to the adventurer's guild, which Feyra had shown me a few minutes prior. Its sign featured a yellow crown, with the same color decorating its walls. Its slanted shingle roof, was a shade of orange quite similar to that of Lucy's eyes. The combination of my title, with Lucy's coloring, made me smile faintly from amusement. It was almost as if someone had merged our features.

"That's all, right?" Feyra asked me. Although her body had stopped trembling, the fear had not left her voice. Her opinion of me was another thing I couldn't spend time fixing.

"That's all," I confirmed, reaching into my bag for her promised reward. Her body tensed when I held out the coins, but she kept her hand steady, positioning it a few inches below mine. I dropped the saints into her palm, choosing to avoid skin contact. She stared at the coins for a moment, then curled her fingers about them and took a step backward, her eyes on me the entire time. After putting a little more distance between us, she turned and fled. I watched her run for a moment, before turning around and heading back the way we'd come.

It didn't take long to reach the adventurer's guild. I hadn't taken the time to study it before, what with Feyra's clear desire to finish the tour quickly, so this time I intended to examine it in detail before going inside.

It was fairly tall by the standards of this city, though I doubted it had more than two floors. It was built of red bricks, which matched its red shingle roof. The door was unpainted, allowing it to stand out against the red. I could tell that the building had been built with utility in mind, with little concern for decoration. The unpainted bricks, and large size, allowed it to stand out, while the door's naked wood made the entrance easy to spot. I couldn't say for sure whether other branches of the guild followed this pattern, but the residents, at least, would be able to recognize the building on sight. Even if they didn't, its sign, which depicted two swords crossed against each other, was almost certainly standardized.

Satisfied, I opened the door and took my first step inside.

The interior of the building was just as plain as its exterior. The floors were hard stone, and the walls were constructed of more brick. A long, narrow counter stood at the back of the room, starting at the left wall, and stretching toward the right, ending just short of the opposite side. The remaining space, which was bridged by a plank of wood, looked spacious enough for a person to walk through. Directly behind it was a wooden door.

Looking toward the left, I saw a multitude of papers, attached to the wall by rows of small hooks. A few people were studying the flyers. Although I couldn't read any text from my current position, it seemed safe to assume they detailed potential quests. I would have to look into it later.

For now, I was more concerned by the way people were responding to my presence. I was already aware that I stood out, thanks to my interactions with Feyra and Gerard, but I hadn't expected so many strong reactions. About two thirds of the adventurers were staring at me, some with hostility, some with cautious curiosity, most with various mixtures of the two. The moment I looked toward any of them, they would shirk away from me, acting as if they were focused on something else. The remaining third of those present were trying their best not to look at me at all.

Perhaps my clothes really were giving away my status? The material worn by the locals had a much rougher look to them. Most of them didn't seem to be particularly colorful either. I would have to consider visiting a tailor in the near future, even if it meant taking precautions against my fellow demons finding out. I didn't relish the idea of purposefully dressing in uncomfortable clothes, but standing out to this extent wouldn't do.

Well, it was something I could worry about tomorrow. For now, I moved towards the counter. It had been split into four, with three wooden dividers projecting vertically from its surface. Each segment had someone sitting behind it and with a procession of people before it. I aimed for the leftmost section, as it had the shortest line. Not that it particularly mattered, as everyone immediately in it scattered the moment my destination became clear. It took effort not to pout as I made my way to the now cleared counter, especially as the brunette receptionist sitting behind it was so obviously displeased by my choice. At least she was professional enough not to flee.

"My apologies for the disturbance, My name is Eena. May I ask yours?"

"E-Erina, my Lady." She pushed her chair back as she spoke, toppling it in her hurry, and performing a clumsy curtsy. "C-can I - I mean, um, wh- Um." Her face was losing color, paling further each time she stumbled over a word.

"It's alright, you can take your time. I don't bite." I tried to make myself smile, despite knowing how fake it would look. Perhaps it was for the best that her head remained bowed, preventing her from seeing it.

"Th-thank you for… Um… I mean…" Erina trailed off, biting her lip. I watched silently, desperately trying to come up with something I could say or do to help her calm down. It was useless; everything I came up with could all too easily make things worse.

I was considering whether it would be best to leave, and come back later in some sort of hooded cloak, when I heard the back door swing open, drawing my attention to the left side of the room. A giant of a man, a little over six feet tall, walked through it. He had the look of a warrior to me; a strong one by human standards, though it was hard to describe why I felt that way. His physique was actually quite slim, without any visible muscles. He'd shorn his blue hair close to his scalp, but whether that was a fashion choice, or a way to prevent his enemies from gripping onto it, I really couldn't say. There was a rough looking scar across his right cheek, but I had no way of knowing whether or not it came from a fight or an accident. If I was forced to give a reason for my impression, I could only say that there was a certain confidence in the way he held himself. He was walking into a room full of adventurers, some of the strongest humans to be found in this city, and yet he didn't seem nervous at all. In fact, he was glowering as he looked around. At least until he noticed me.

The moment he realized that I was looking in his direction, all traces of emotion disappeared from his face. It was actually a little unsettling; if that was how I looked, it might be better to show my emotions more freely after all.

We kept our eyes on each-other as he walked forward, maintaining perfect eye contact. I found myself wondering how he'd handle it if an obstacle was placed in his path. Would he even notice it, while staring so intensely? The thought made me smile, despite the rough day I'd had so far .

The man came to a stop behind Erina and reached out to lightly tap her on the shoulder, never taking his eyes off mine. The receptionist jumped in surprise, a look of pure panic on her face, but the moment she saw the man her expression changed to relief.

"G-Guild Master! I-I…" She cast me another fearful look, then turned back to the man, silently pleading for release.

"It's alright, Erina," the guild master said, his voice softening. "Why don't you take your break?"

"Thank you!" She ran straight for the door the man had come through, not once looking back.

"I apologize for Erina's behavior, My Lady." His voice was soft and polite, but the warmth he used when speaking with the receptionist was nowhere to be found. His voice, much like his face, was completely devoid of emotion. "How can this humble establishment help you today?"

I grimaced, deciding it might be best to let my discomfort show. "Please, call me Eena. I prefer not to stand on formality."

The guild master's brow furrowed for a moment, before smoothing over just as quickly. "I would never dream of being so disrespectful, my L-"

A glare from me pushed the words back down his throat. I let my glower fade once I was certain my message was clear, but kept up my frown. "My name is Eena. I won't force you to use it if it makes you uncomfortable, but please don't use rudeness as an excuse. If you truly wish to respect me, Guild Master, then you should extend that same respect to my request."

The man fell silent, his eyes briefly losing their focus. I could only guess at what was going through his mind; his expression was as impassive as ever. After a moment, his eyes moved to meet mine again. There was an edge to his gaze that hadn't been there before.

"If you're certain Eena…" His eyes sharpened further as he trailed off. I smiled in return, pleased by his acquiescence. "In that case, let's drop the titles altogether. My name is Denden."

"As you wish." My smile grew. Denden was obviously suspicious of my intentions, but it was a step in the right direction, nonetheless.

"So what can we do for you, Eena?" His tone was as courteous as ever, but at least he'd dropped some of the formality in his speech.

"I wish to become an adventurer."

"We'll need to fill out some paperwork then, and discuss the ground rules. We can make use of my office, if you'd like."

That…was odd. I'd expected another expression of surprise, but the guild master responded without any hesitation.

"That would probably be best. I assume it's past that door, yes? Shall I head to the far right side, or would you prefer me to hop over the counter?"

This time the guildmaster responded with a frown. I could tell he was confused as he looked me over once again, his gaze lingering on my hands a moment or two longer than anywhere else. Whatever Denden was looking for, he seemed to find it quickly, as he soon met my eyes once more. "I think climbing over the counter would be too much of a shock for people. If you don't mind, I'd prefer we both walk to the other side."

"As you wish," I replied, turning to follow his instructions. Denden was obviously underestimating me, if he thought I would need to clamber over an obstacle that only reached partway up my chest, but perhaps that was for the best. I wasn't entirely certain what the average human was capable of in this world.

I traced the length of the counter, with Denden perfectly matching my pace. I paid no heed to the lines between me and my destination, as those in them quickly moved aside to let me pass. I knew it was rude, but I didn't think walking around them would be any better. If I was bound to disrupt guild business regardless, I might as well take the shortest route.

I paused upon reaching the far wall, turning to face Denden on the other side of the wooden partition. He lifted the plank of wood that blocked off the gap between the counter and the wall, allowing me through. He did not wait for my thanks, heading toward the door he'd come from without saying a word. I followed his lead, quietly walking through the door and closing it behind me.

I found myself in a wide hallway, with a staircase to the left, numerous doors on the right, and what looked to be an open space at the end. I noticed Erina sitting down at the end, leaning over a table with her head buried in her arms. Fortunately, Denden was moving toward the stairs. I wanted to get out of Erina's potential line of sight quickly, before I could cause her any more stress.

The remaining trek was uneventful. Denden was completely silent as he led me up the staircase and down another hallway, stopping in front of a door at the far end. He opened it without a word, strolled inside, and navigated around the large desk that all but filled the room. Once seated in an unpadded wooden chair, he put his elbows on the table, interlaced his fingers, and rested his chin upon them.

"So you want to become an adventurer." Denden's voice was utterly flat, but his eyes were hard as diamonds.

"That's correct." I kept myself from flinching, reminding myself that I was in no danger. No matter how strong he was, he was still only human.

Denden kept up his stare for a moment, then closed his eyes and let out a sigh.

"Why?" The flat tone was gone, replaced by exasperation. "I've met a few nobles who wanted to play adventurer over the course of my career, but I still don't understand why your type thinks it's a good idea. It's hard work; dirty too. Even with the safer requests, you can still end up facing monsters. I know some nobles are taught to defend themselves against their fellow humans, but fighting those things takes a different skillset. They're stronger, they're tougher, and they think differently than we do. And they do think; I've seen a lot of good adventurers go down because they thought they were facing dumb beasts. How smart they are can vary, but most of them are at least cunning enough to pull off a dirty trick or two."

Denden shook his head. "I'll help you with the paperwork. There's no way I can refuse you, and we both know it, but you're probably the closest thing to a modest noble I'm ever going to meet, so I figure this is my one and only shot at getting a real answer."

I hesitated, unsure of what to say. I could tell him the truth, that I was hoping to join the Heroine on her adventures as a way of befriending her, but he wasn't likely to believe that. I needed to stall long enough to think up a response. Hopefully I could buy myself time with a question of my own.

"Before I answer that, can you tell me why you think I'm a noble? I understand that my clothes are of fairly high quality, but isn't it far more likely that I'm the daughter of a rich merchant, or some such?"

Denden's lips curled downward. Perhaps he knew I was avoiding his question, but he couldn't afford to press me. My perceived social standing was too big a threat. He remained silent, choosing his words in advance.

"It's not just the clothes," he said, at last. "You could be wearing burlap, and I'd still be able to spot it. Pretty sure anyone could, but it's even more obvious if you know what to look for."

"I'm not sure what you mean. What makes it so easy to recognize?" If I knew that, perhaps I could at least keep a low profile amongst those who didn't know what to look for.

"Everything about you," he replied, gesturing wildly at my entire person. "We can start with your hygiene - you and your clothes are both too clean."

I gave a silent nod. The cleanliness was a good lead to work with. I didn't relish the idea of being covered in dirt, but I could probably manage a little of it. I would simply have to be less liberal with the magic I used to rid myself of it.

"Next up is the way you talk. I mentioned meeting nobles before, but to be honest none of them were that high a rank. I'm guessing you're a bit further up the food chain; none of them spoke nearly as fancily as you do."

"I… See." That would be hard to correct. I'd been speaking this way since I was seven. I'd hoped that styling my words after that of old speeches, from Demon Queens past, would help earn me respect. It was nothing more than a childish misconception, built on the faulty belief that gaining acclaim could somehow make up for the love I'd spectacularly failed to garner, but after so many years it was simply the most comfortable way for me to speak. I wasn't sure that I was capable of speaking informally without it coming across as stilted. Still, I was willing to try it. Unnatural speech would probably cause suspicion, but it might still create less issues than speaking like a noble.

"And then there's your skin. You've seen enough light to have a healthy color, but you obviously haven't spent enough time in the sun to get any damage from it. Hell, I don't see a single blemish anywhere, and no offense, but you're showing quite a bit."

That might be an even bigger problem, as I had no idea how to fix it. Doing enough damage to myself to leave a permanent mark would raise far too many questions in the tower, and I wasn't entirely sure that I could be scarred to begin with.

"But the biggest give away is your hands," Denden continued, giving them a meaningful glance. "I've never seen hands that smooth. Even nobles generally have a couple of calluses, just from sword training, or gripping their horse's reins, or maybe playing an instrument. You've got to be one of the most pampered women in the world to have hands like that. Most people probably wouldn't spot that, but like I said, if you know what to look for it's the ultimate tip-off."

"So there really is no hiding it…" Of course, it wasn't impossible to disguise the tells he'd revealed to me. I could cover most of my skin, wear gloves, dirty myself up, and find some excuse for my strained speech, but doing all that would only make me stand out in a different way, not to mention the questions it would draw from Lucy.

"Not really, no." Denden shrugged, sitting back in his chair. "Now, I've answered your question - are you going to answer mine?" There was an intense look in his eyes, implying that he wouldn't take no for an answer.

"Certainly, so long as you cease these attempts at intimidating me." I matched guild masters stare with one of my own. Denden had given me valuable information, and I intended to respond in turn as best I could, but that didn't mean I would let him bully me. I needed to put my foot down here and now, for the sake of our future interactions.

The guild master looked away, ending our impromptu staring competition. When he turned his head back to face me there was displeasure evident in his lowered brow, but the pressure from before was nowhere to be found.

I dipped my head in acknowledgement. "As it happens, I am joining for the sake of a friend, as I wish to join her in her adventures. I won't give you her name - I doubt you'd believe me, and you'll discover it soon enough anyway."

"I see." The terse response did nothing to hide Denden's doubt, but I made no attempt to defend myself. Technically Lucy was more of an acquaintance at this point, but since she herself seemed determined to befriend me, I was certain she'd happily corroborate my statement. She might even be excited to find out that I'd referred to her in such a way.

An image of Lucy, jumping for joy and squealing about friendship popped into my head, causing me to chuckle, and then blush when I noticed Denden's bewilderment. I lowered my head and coughed into a fist, trying to hide my face until it could return to its natural color.

"If that is all," I said, head still downturned, "then I think it's time we moved onto paperwork."

Denden scrutinized me for a moment longer, but by the time I'd recovered myself enough to look up at him, he'd already moved on. I watched as he drew a piece of paper from his desk drawer, followed by a thin booklet bound by thread. "I'll fill out everything for you. Just tell me how I should write your name, and give me your height. Usually someone would give you an overview of the guild rules, but it'll be faster if you just read them over for yourself.

I nodded, taking the booklet. The words Guild Rules were written in large black letters upon its front.

"E-E-N-A. Five foot four." I carefully opened the pamphlet to its first page, choosing not to look at Denden's expression. I was, perhaps, a little on the small side, though I hated to admit it. If he was amused by that, then I didn't want to see it on his face.

Reading the rules, I quickly discovered that the code of conduct was surprisingly lax, and could mostly be summed up as 'don't cause problems for the guild'. Doing so could get you ousted from the branch you'd troubled, though it wouldn't get you banned from the organization itself. I intended to ask Denden why that was, but as I read further the reason became quite clear. The individual guild halls didn't generally communicate with one another. Those located within this kingdom sent reports to a central branch in the capital city, which in turn passed information on to an international headquarters in another country. There was no efficient method of disseminating information, so banning someone was virtually impossible. Even if you managed to track them down and take away their guild card, they could simply apply all over again in a new location. As such, they viewed any criminal activity as the government's purview.

I skimmed through the rest, noting information about time limits on requests, fines for failure, and the process of taking a request. It was apparently uncommon for adventurers to be literate, as the system had been designed with those who couldn't read in mind. The guild used a multitude of standardized stamps to show the nature of the request. They also listed numbers, 1-6, to rank its difficulty. The adventurer could use that information, combined with the listed reward, to pick out flyers that looked interesting and then bring them to a receptionist. An adventurer could take any request they desired, regardless of its rank. If they bit off more than they could chew, then they would simply have to learn from it. Assuming they survived, of course.

Other than that, the most pertinent information was the requirements for becoming an adventurer. It wasn't as easy as I'd hoped it would be. While anyone could join the guild by filling out the paperwork and paying the five virtue fee, I would have to start out as a "rookie," rather than a full-fledged adventurer. The former could only take a request when accompanied by the latter. Rookies would first need to earn two stamps, by completing two successful missions with an adventurer escort. They could only take gathering requests for the first of these, but the second was unrestricted.

After they'd accomplished that, you could become a full adventurer by paying the membership fee, which consisted of one saint. That was quite a large sum from my understanding, mind you, and a further stipulation stated that they had to earn it all via adventuring work. Since individual guild branches didn't share information, you had to stay with a singular branch from start to finish.

The entire thing sounded like a massive headache. I would have considered abandoning the idea altogether in favor of simply asking Lucy to let me accompany her, if it wasn't for a single paragraph at the booklet's end, which mentioned guild cards being a valid form of identification when traveling.

I would have prayed, hoping that Lucy would be willing to help me with some of the more lucrative requests, if only there was someone in heaven worth praying to.

"Rookie card's finished," Denden informed me, once I'd closed the booklet. "Fee's five virtues." He placed a small card upon the edge of the desk closest to me. While the full-membership cards supposedly utilized a special type of paper, this one was made of the same flimsy stuff as the booklet. It was, to my surprise, done in the same handwriting as the pamphlet I'd just read.

The word 'rookie' was written at the top, and Denden had signed it at the bottom. In the center, it listed my fake name, the color of my eyes and hair, and finally my height. Seeing a written record of how short I was made me wish I'd thought to lie. It wasn't as if Denden had a way to measure me.

Cursing my own honesty, I placed the required virtues on the desk, and was about to pick up the card when Denden placed an identical card beside it, along with a small inkpot. "Dip your thumb in that, then use your magic to remove most of it - you just want enough to barely coat your skin. Then press your thumb against the right hand corner. Do the same for the other one, too; we'll keep that copy at the guild. We check that whenever you complete a request. Helps cut down on card thefts.

I stared at the guildmaster, surprised at seeing a concept I knew from Jacob's memories being put to use like this in Solla, but did as asked after regaining my composure.

"Alright, then," Denden said, picking up one of the cards, and handing me the other. "Welcome to the Adventurer's Guild, rookie. Let me show you out."

"Thank you, Denden. Or should that be Guild Master, now?" My tone was light, but Denden's lips didn't so much as twitch in the face of my teasing.

"I'd prefer Guild Master when you're talking about me around others. Use whatever you'd like in private." Stating such, he walked past me and out the door. I followed close behind him, down the stairs and out to the front, where I once again I had eyes on me. I didn't bother listening to the words they whispered amongst themselves as I headed for the exit. The overlapping conversations were little more than white noise to me, so long as I didn't hone in on any one of them.

I was reaching for the door when it suddenly swung outward, revealing a young woman. Her upper body was covered in metal armor, colored gold and black. Whoever made it for her must have done so with her measurements in mind, as it was shaped to accentuate her curves. Gold painted pauldrons topped her shoulders, while similarly decorated bracers and greaves protected her arms and legs. She wore a leather skirt made up of black strips and golden studs. Her left hand was protected by a gauntlet, and a large sword was buckled to that same side. She had red hair, and orange eyes, which were opened wide.

"Eena?" Her voice was barely a whisper, a far cry from what I'd normally expect from her. I was sure she'd make up for it, though, just as soon as she recovered from her shock.

"Hello, Lucy. It's good to see you." I felt my lips pulling into a smile as I spoke. I had come early specifically so that I could settle in before our scheduled rendezvous, but I didn't mind. I was happy to see her, if only because I'd spent the day amongst people who wanted me gone.

From the smile on Lucy's face, it seemed that the feeling was mutual.





Many thanks to my editor paradoxicalWitchling and my proofreader FallingLeaf, for all their hard work, and I'd like to my readers! Whether it's through reactions, follows, or comments, you all help drive me forward.

As of now, SV is officially caught up on publicly released chapters! I've already written chapter 13.5 (a short interlude with Abigail) and I'm hoping to release it on the 15th - my editor is working on getting it ready as we speak. In the meantime, I'll be releasing art of Devilla, Abigail, and Lucy over the next 3 days. They're nothing fancy - just some design reference sheets done by the HaizeUquei alongside the cover I commissioned.

Anyway, onto the meat of this author's commentary! Getting to write this chapter was honestly a pretty big deal for me. On top of Lucy being back in the mix - yay! - there's the fact that we're finally at the adventurer's guild! Which I guess basically translated to, "Kay gets to do an exposition dump!" I hope you can forgive me for it, though – believe it or not, I did my best to leave a fair bit out, in favor of bringing it up when the info becomes relevant. I'm still really excited to share all the details I worked out, though. I actually started thinking about the guild's system and rules quite a while back, and have been changing and adding to it ever since. I wanted to make something both functional and unique. The lack of enchanted items in Solla definitely helped with that last part! Most of the time I see this trope the organization relies heavily on magical spells or artifacts, neither of which are practical in this world.

I also gave readers a peek at what Devilla's childhood was like, here. I may have devoted a fair bit of time to the adventurer's guild, but that's nothing compared to the time and effort I've put into Devilla's past. That said, I honestly didn't expect it to come up in this chapter! It just ended up that way, as a consequence of the characters being themselves. I'm glad it happened, though! In fact, I intend to expound upon her past as the volume goes on.

As a final note - before I move onto the usual spiel about Patreon - I'd just like to giggle a little about poor Devilla, who will be spending the next eternity cursing herself out for not just lying about her height. People will want to see her membership card! Lucy will want to see her membership card!

As always, I hope you had fun reading! If you're interested in supporting me, please consider joining my Patreon! Whenever I write a new chapter, it stays on Patreon for two weeks before being released to the public - though admittedly most of that time is generally spent getting it edited and proofread. The lowest tier you can get access with is $1, while the higher tiers - $5+ - get you access to my one-shots a month before I post them anywhere else. (I generally try to get those edited during that one-month time span, as well.)
 
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Art: Devilla Satanne (Demon Queen)

Meet Devilla Satanne! A Demon Queen who's lived most of her life so far as a spoiled brat, but is now trying to make up for her past after recovering her past life memories - specifically those of Jacob, an earthling. While her core identity remains the same, she has a newfound understanding of empathy, friendship, and family. Unfortunately, realizing how terrible she's acted so far has caused her latent self-hatred to grow exponentially. She's determined to make up for past mistakes but doesn't consider herself worthy of redemption. Perhaps the friends she makes as the series progresses will be able to change her mind?

This art was commissioned from https://twitter.com/HaizeUqei alongside the cover. (Warning, for those who choose to open up the art in its true size - it's big!)
 
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Art: Abigail

Meet Abigail! Originally just one of many maids on the hundred-and-first floor, she has since become Devilla's personal maid - and her first real friend. In the past, she managed to last longer in Devilla's service than the majority of her coworkers, primarily because she would fake fear around Devilla, who would generally mistake it for a sign of respect for her authority and power. It also helped that Devilla didn't pay her any particular mind and that Abigail was willing to put up with serving a brat. Since becoming close to Devilla, however, Abigail has been letting her real self show - at first because she found Devilla's behavior too exasperating to even bother with keeping up a front, and later because she knows Devilla will accept the real her. She's quick to backtalk but loyal to her friends, and protective of those she cares about. She's fully prepared to yell at Devilla when she thinks her Queen is being an idiot, but her lectures are always interlaced with concern for her friend's wellbeing.

As a succubus, she needs to supplement her diet with lust. She formerly met this need by working part-time at the brothel by her apartment (which is owned by her mother). Since Devilla is keeping her too busy for that most days, she holds her hunger at bay by feeding on the less-nutritious but still workable lust directed at those still working there, while fully sating herself through occasional trysts with Devilla.

The following facts have not been mentioned in the series as of yet - it's possible some of them may come up in the future, though I'm not entirely sure. I don't consider them spoilers, as they aren't really plot-relevant, but I will put them behind spoilers nonetheless in case people want to wait to hear about her past.

Abigail used to work full time at the brothel, but was put off by the other girls talking behind her back, claiming that she always got the best customers due to nepotism. She felt awkward about working for a competing brothel, but she didn't feel qualified for many other careers. She decided to work as a maid on the hundred-and-first floor because it was the only case she knew of a high-paying position in desperate need of applicants. They were willing to give her whatever training she needed, in return for a contractual agreement to work until fired (or until 3 years had passed, but nobody really expected her to last that long without earning Devilla's ire). She did her best to keep the job, partly for the high pay and partly so that she could get the head of staff to write her a reference letter for her next job. The longer she lasted, the more impressive it would seem.

This art was commissioned from https://twitter.com/HaizeUqei alongside the cover. (Warning, for those who choose to open up the art in its true size - it's big!)
 
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Art: Lucy

Meet Lucy! An energetic ball of positivity, who's determined to help anyone and everyone she can. Lucy's mother taught her that demons are just people, and monsters are simply animals with magic. Some of them may endanger humanity, but neither group is truly evil by nature. Of course, this flies in the face of everything the church teaches - but what's a story without conflict~?

I like to describe Lucy as innocent, but not entirely naive. She knows the world is a harsh place. She knows that people can be deceptive, and cruel. She understands good intentions can still lead to serious harm. The world is complex, and often difficult to live in. All the same, she doesn't want to let the world change her. She wants to see the best in people and to always give others the benefit of the doubt. As the Heroine she's expected to fight demons and protect humanity, but she wants to do more than that. Rather than just fighting in a war, she wants to directly help everyone she can, in any way she can. She's already the Heroine by title but in order to live up to that, she wants to hold true to her ideals.

That said, she knows full well that she's only able to live the way she does because she's the Heroine - her strength and her title allow her to do things with ease that others would find too difficult or risky to even try.
 
(Since rewritten/No Longer Canon!) Chapter 13.5 - A (Plot Relevant) Interlude With Abigail
Abigail


Ordinarily, visits with a General - or anyone important, really - should be handled with a level of decorum. I wouldn't call myself an expert on etiquette or anything, but I did get the basics drilled into me when I first started working as a maid. Enough to know that I shouldn't be laying facedown on the couch I'd found in General Yara's waiting room. The maid who'd greeted me had already left to alert the General, and I doubted she'd be happy to see me sprawled out on her fancy furniture. So I should probably sit up, right?

…Nope. Not gonna happen. I was too exhausted to even try.

"Told Maid she would get tired."

"Come over here so I can glare at you," I grumbled.

Bailey obediently walked around the couch, circumventing a low wooden table before stopping in front of me. She wasn't wearing Devilla's clothes, as I'd originally intended, but instead a spare maid uniform I'd borrowed from a werewolf coworker. For some reason she'd refused to cover herself with Devilla's scent, saying that I should wear them and give her my own clothes instead. I was a little curious why she was fine with me smelling like Devilla, but it wasn't worth asking her about. Figuring out Bailey's logic was like pulling teeth. It was probably for the best, in any case, since her current clothes came with a pre-made hole for her tail.

With her arms crossed in front of her chest and a stern look on her face, the uniform made Bailey seem like a put-upon servant, dissatisfied with her mistress's behavior.

"Told Maid she should let me carry her."

"And I told you that getting carried would be way too embarrassing," I retorted, scowling. "There are already enough rumors about how weak I am; some people are even saying I have human blood in me!" Serving Devilla directly made me a popular topic of gossip. The majority of it was harmless, if irritating, coming from people who pitied me for being 'forced' into the job, but some of the rumors I'd heard were meant to hurt. Leaping to Devilla's defense really wasn't doing any favors for my reputation, it seemed. Not that I was going to stop.

People talking behind my back wasn't exactly new, anyway - I only started working as a maid in the first place because my coworkers wouldn't stop claiming that Mom was funneling all our best clients my way. I did wish that I could talk to someone about it, though. My friends didn't understand why I wouldn't just quit, and Devilla herself was out of the question. She'd just blame herself, and then I'd end up giving her a pep talk instead. Then she'd probably start calling herself a terrible friend for making me cheer her up when I had my own problems, and… Ugh. I planned on putting off that particular headache for as long as possible.

"Better to hint weakness than show it. Maid would be less tired if she listened."

"Look, we're already here, alright? There's no point bickering about it now." Maybe I was being too stubborn for my own good, but I still wasn't going to cave. If I did, Bailey would insist on carrying me the whole way back. "How the hell did you get so fit, anyway? You were skin and bones when Devilla brought you home, and now you're fine and dandy after walking down ninety-one floors!?"

"Horned wolves strong. Will get stronger. Will protect Maid for Queen!" Bailey puffed her chest out in pride and wagged her black, bushy tail behind her.

"I can protect myself!" I snapped, causing Bailey's tail to stop midswing, falling limply behind her. I felt bad for a moment, even thinking that I might have gone too far, but that remorse went out the window pretty quick once Bailey treated me to a harsh stare, filled with fierce determination.

"Maid not strong enough," she declared flatly. "I protect, or Queen upset."

"Wait… Did Devilla order you to guard me? Is that why you're being so stubborn?" Why the hell would Devilla give her an order like that!? If anything, she should have told Bailey to stay in her room, and not cause trouble!

But Bailey shook her head. "Not need order. Know what important on own."

I narrowed my eyes at the wolf, finally forcing myself upright and giving her the dirtiest look I could manage. "How the hell is protecting me against nonexistent threats important?"

Utterly unfazed by my frustration, Bailey pointed a finger at herself. "I serve Queen." Then she pointed at me. "Maid most important person to Queen. Not need order to protect." She spoke as if it was the most obvious thing in the world, but all I could do was gawk at her.

I was the most important person to Devilla? That wasn't… I mean… Okay, maybe it was maybe sort of true, depending on how Bailey meant it. Bailey looked at Devilla as a leader, while Lenora was still struggling to see past her status as Queen, so our bond was probably the closest thing she had to a traditional friendship. It was only a matter of time before she made more friends though. Soon enough, I'd just be one of many.

…Why did that thought sting so much?

I wanted to question Bailey further, but the door to General Yara's office opened before I got the chance. I tried not to let my face show how irritated I was by the untimely interruption, reminding myself that I was representing the Queen herself. Instead, I studied the incoming maid. It wasn't the same girl who'd gone to fetch the General. That one had been a dryad, while this one… I honestly had no clue. I'd been forced to memorize all the different demon species as part of my schooling, but I couldn't remember what half of them looked like.

This girl's top half was humanoid, but her lower half reminded me of a snake's tail. Her scales, which ran up all the way up her sides and covered her shoulders were dark green, like her eyes. Her hair, which cascaded down to her shoulders in waves, was a deep brown that offset the color nicely. Her tits, which were hidden by a black band with a white frill, were a bit on the small side, enough that I could probably hide them from view with just my hands. That wasn't particularly relevant, but it did stoke my personal interest.

"Thank you for coming all this way, Lady Abigail, Lady Bailey," the maid said, prompting me to put my musings aside and focus on her words. "My name is Nivera, and it will be my pleasure to serve you today." She slithered toward me, carrying a tray with two wooden cups atop it. "General Yara will be ready in just a moment. In deference to your long journey, she asks that you and your friend enjoy these refreshments before joining her." She placed the platter on the table, directly in front of us.

"You can drop the Lady part, I'm just another maid. And Bailey… well, Bailey is Bailey, I guess." I kept my tone friendly, but it was an effort not to roll my eyes at her overly polite welcome. You'd think I'd be used to that sort of thing after spending so much time with a literal queen, but it honestly wasn't the same. Devilla's way of speaking could come across as formal, sure, but that was just what came naturally to her. I actually asked her to speak casually once, and it was so painfully awkward I begged her to stop after two sentences. Nivera, on the other hand, was putting in way too much effort for my tastes.

"Oh, perish the thought, Lady Abigail! I could not possibly refer to you in such a disrespectful manner! I am, after all, but one of General Yara's many maids, while you are the personal attendant of our dear Queen! Why, who knows what would happen to me if word of my rudeness reached her ears?"

Her overly dramatic speech might have been more convincing if it wasn't for the smirk on her face. I still wouldn't have bought the humble bits, but I might have believed she was sincerely worried about Devilla's reaction.

"Are you seriously trying to get a rise out of me in your boss's waiting room? What the hell is your plan here, get me to raise a fuss, and then kick me out? Make me look bad so Devilla fires me?"

Nivera gasped, lifting a hand to her chest. "Why would you make such foul accusations? I've treated you with nothing but respect, and yet you speak to me with such cruelty… But then, considering the company you keep, perhaps I should have expected such treatment? They do say that like attracts like, no?"

My hands curled into fists, tight enough that my nails dug into my palms, but I kept my mouth shut. I knew how the public saw Devilla. I'd heard plenty worse, but this… this felt different. More personal. Nivera wasn't just denouncing our Queen, or me for being so close with her. She was insulting us both at the same time, and using our friendship to do it. I wanted to grab her, shake her, and scream at her for being so damn ignorant and hateful. I wanted to shout, not only at her, but at everyone who despised Devilla - at everyone who failed to realize how hard their Queen was working.

But it wouldn't do any good. I couldn't tell anyone what Devilla was really up to, and I couldn't prove how much she'd changed. If I hadn't gotten to know Devilla personally, I'd still be insulting her myself. It wouldn't be fair to curse at Nivera, or to slap her with all my strength, but telling myself that didn't help me calm down. Was this how Devilla felt when that rabbit girl insulted me? I thought she was overreacting at the time, but maybe I should have complimented her on her restraint.

"Oh, dear me, I do hope I haven't angered you? The way you're looking at me - why, a woman of lesser strength might fear for her life, under assault from such gazes!"

I glowered at her, getting more and more aggravated with every word she spoke, but… I made myself let it go with a heavy sigh. Bitchiness aside, Nivera actually did me a favor by reminding me that I wasn't alone in my anger. If I was mad then Bailey was enraged. I wasn't certain whether she'd picked up on the nuance of our conversation, or if she was just reacting to my own behavior, but she was literally snarling, showing off her sharp fangs. The way she was standing, bent forward, with her head lowered and her horn pointed straight at Nivera, made her feelings all the clearer. If Devilla hadn't explicitly forbidden Bailey from starting fights, our conversation would have already ended in bloodshed.

"I know it's not the place of a lowly servant such as myself to say this, but don't you think you're being rude, keeping General Yara waiting like this?" Nivera arched one of her delicate eyebrows. "I daresay she must be wondering why you haven't finished your drinks and joined her already."

"You said she was busy," I growled, reaching out to rub Bailey's back. She snarled once more, before slowly straightening herself and raising her head. I could still feel the tension in her muscles through the palm of my hand, but at least she wasn't being so obvious with her bloodlust.

"I also said she would be ready in a moment," Nivera reminded me. "Though if you truly wish to finish our conversation, I'm sure the General wouldn't mind waiting. Not if it's for the sake of our illustrious Queen's personal maid."

I held my tongue and glanced down at the cups. They were filled with some sort of pink liquid. Fruit juice, maybe? General Yara oversaw the agricultural floors, so it would make sense. Nivera's "service" had preemptively ruined the taste, but it felt like a bad idea to refuse the General's hospitality right before asking for a favor. Throwing our cups in her maid's face was off the table, too. I had to content myself with glaring at her as I drank.

The beverage was surprisingly sweet, with just enough sour in it to balance out the flavor. It was probably one of the best things I'd ever tasted, but I came close to spitting it out when I realized just what I was drinking.

"You gave us potions!?"

Nivera placed a hand on her cheek. "Oh my, did I forget to mention that? Well, no harm no foul; they're only stamina potions, after all. General Yara wanted to ensure you were in tip-top condition for your meeting."

"So she gave these to us out of the goodness of her heart?" I narrowed my eyes at the maid, folding my arms in front of my chest. "The cheapest potions on the market would cost me a week's salary." Well, it would have before Devilla promoted me, anyway.

"You needn't worry about the price, Lady Abigail. General Yara grew the ingredients herself. You do know how good goblins are at growing things, don't you?"

"...So you're saying she gave me something from her personal stock?" My eyes narrowed in suspicion. Thanks to their wild magic, goblins could grow nearly anything so long as they had a seed for it. All they needed was some form of soil and water; even if sunlight was optional, if they used enough magic. But magical plants took a lot more effort and energy to grow than their mundane counterparts. No matter what Nivera claimed, these potions represented a significant investment.

"Is it so hard to believe my mistress is simply being kind? And even if she isn't, can you afford to refuse her generosity? Trust me when I say you wouldn't want to meet the General in anything less than peak condition." She gave my cup a meaningful glance before following it up with another smug grin. The urge to slap her was growing ever stronger, but I stifled the urge and turned toward Bailey instead. For better or worse, she'd already emptied her cup and was licking the liquid from her lips.

"Do you know how to activate a potion?" I could already guess Bailey's answer, but that didn't keep me from sighing when I saw her quizzical expression. "That thing you just drank lets you use an extra ability for a little bit. It's like what Devilla does with your hair, except this one apparently restores your stamina." I treated Nivera to another suspicious look, but her smirk was as immovable as the tower itself. Still, while I didn't exactly trust her, I wasn't too worried about the potion's effect. If she wanted to hurt us, she wouldn't bother with a potion; she'd just give us poison. "You should be able to feel something new inside you. It's hard to explain, but just try and channel your power like you do when you're using your own abilities - like your horn. It should feel just like that, except… not."

"A wonderful explanation, Lady Abigail. Though I must say, I didn't expect Lady Bailey to be so ignorant." Nivera tapped a finger against her lip. "You know, I've heard quite a few rumors about the Queen's new guard dog, but nobody seems quite certain where she came from."

"What's it to you?" I demanded. Devilla's trip to get salt for the tower wasn't much of a secret, and it was easy enough to guess that she'd found Bailey during her journey. I had no intention of confirming or denying the truth, though. Especially if this bitch was the one asking.

"Oh, it's nothing more than idle curiosity on my part, Lady Abigail," Nivera assured me, bowing her head in false deference. "But I really don't think you should keep the General waiting any longer."

I scowled, looking down at my cup. I'd barely taken more than a sip so far, but I could already feel the effect. There was something new inside me, something that didn't belong. It wasn't exactly uncomfortable, let alone painful, it was just… there. Barely present, but impossible to ignore.

I tilted the cup back and swallowed its remaining contents. The sensation grew stronger the more I drank until it felt almost solid. I took hold of my magic and channeled it through my temporary guest, letting it shape the magic, before circulating it within myself. Slowly but surely, my weariness faded away. My limbs felt light as a feather, and my body was practically vibrating from the energy inside it. I felt like I could run all the way back to the hundred-and-first floor. It was a good feeling, but restoring myself physically had come at a cost - it used up almost all my magic. I wouldn't be able to cast spells any time soon without risk of depletion, and this time there'd be no Demon Queen to save me from myself. Whatever General Yara was planning, I could only hope that it wouldn't involve magic.

I got to my feet, putting my cup down with a little more force than needed. Bailey followed my example, cracking her cup in the process. I pretended not to notice.

"We're finished. Now take me to General Yara."

"Of course, Lady Abigail. If you and your companion would be so kind as to follow me?" The maid slithered back toward the door without waiting for a response. I got up and followed, with Bailey taking up the rear. Without speaking another word, the three of us left the waiting room behind.



Hope you liked the interlude! I'd like to thank to my editor paradoxicalWitchling and my proofreader FallingLeaf, for all their hard work, and I'd like to thank my readers! Your views, favorites, and comments bring me so much joy!

If you can afford it, please consider joining my Patreon! The lowest tier (a dollar) gets you access to Demon Queened chapters while they're still in the editing stage (as well as the edited stage, if they're done within two weeks) while the upper tiers gives you access to my one-shots, a month before they're released to the public!

I have a lot of author's notes for this chapter, so I'm going to put them behind a spoiler. In deference to those who don't want to go through the whole thing here's a brief summary: the interludes serve a few purposes, and while you don't have to read them they will definitely impact the plot. Also, I know Bailey's behavior/natural instincts are different from a mundane wolf's, but that's more or less purposeful.

I hope you enjoyed getting some time with Abigail! I'm planning to alternate between her and Devilla until they reunite. Abigail's activities can mostly be considered a subplot, of sorts. Their main purpose is to give people a look at what's happening in Devilla's absence. I'm also hoping she can give you all some valuable insight the inner workings of Dimona Tower. Devilla tends to be a little oblivious when it comes to that sort of thing. She didn't care at all before recovering her past life memories, and while she's trying to be a better person she still has no clue how to be an actual leader. It's arguably better for her to leave it in the hands of people who actually know what they're doing, so that she can devote time to things only she can handle - like going on adventures befriending Lucy!

Of course, Abigail doesn't know much about the actual politics of the tower, but she gets at least a little information just by living in a actual city, instead of what's essentially a palace. (One that's big enough to be its own city, and which is populated almost solely by commuters who are only there to serve her needs.) It also helps that people are actually happy to talk to Abigail of their own volition.

The interludes also serve another purpose, however - laying the groundwork for Devilla's future chapters. I don't want to spoil too much, but Abigail's interludes will most definitely have consequences beyond her success or failure to get peppermint oil. You can probably get away with skipping them, if you really want to. Abigail will summarize some of what she's been doing for Devilla's sake in the main chapters, so it shouldn't be too confusing. But I do think it's valuable to have the whole story, so I'm hoping people will find them enjoyable enough to read.

Other than that, my main comment for this chapter is in regards to Bailey. I suspect many of you have noticed that her behavior doesn't really match that of real world wolves, so I wanted to be upfront and say that I'm not even trying to stick to their natural behavior. Horned Wolves are monsters, at the end of the day, and they aren't a perfect match for their mundane counterparts.

PS: I apparently made a small mistake in chapter 11, which I'm in the process of updating on the various places I've posted this. I wrote that Araina was the General of the 40th floor, but her home floor is meant to be the 20th.
 
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Chapter 14
Hey there. It's, uh... Been a while, hasn't it..? Sorry about that. Mental health has been kinda kicking my ass - and last time, I came back a bit too soon, without actually fixing the issues with my writing habits that caused me to burn out in the first place. This time, while writing is going a lot slower than I'd like, it is going - consistent progress is being made, and Patreon already has another chapter out! (Not quite the next chapter, though. It's devoted to Devilla and Lucy, because I'm swapping back and forth between the two scenes and releasing chapters as I write them, to be ordered afterwards. But still! Progress is being made!)

As for this chapter, and why I included "13.5 redux," - well, those who read the original might notice that it starts off pretty damn similarly, and there's a pretty good reason for that. See, I came up with a bunch of plans while I was burned out, and trying to figure what direction I wanted to take the story. Then I threw away all those plans and started over, because trying to make plans while burned out, without having read my own work over in the longest time, was an absolutely terrible idea. (Seriously. Things almost got dark. Or… Well, darker than I want. I prefer comedy and drama in balance, and that wasn't it.) All that said, though, this interlude shifted from plot relevant to plot crucial in both iterations of my plans. It's undergone a lot of changes, too, so it's basically a whole new chapter that happens to share a couple of the same notes.

Fair warning, this chapter is a bit short compared to my normal chapters - which is to say that it's only 3k instead of 6. That's probably going to be the norm, as I'll be chopping up scenes to get more frequent releases and maybe even get to the point of having a backlog and schedule at some point.

PS: I removed the harem tag from this story. That's where I was expecting things to go at the start, but it doesn't feel like it quite fits anymore.

Important Note on Terminology: I don't believe I've managed to explain this in story, as of yet, but since having two mothers is the default among demons I decided that there should be a default term for the one who didn't give birth - I went with "dam." Of course, there's a lot of variation on how people say it, or whether they say it at all - just as human children may call their parents "Mom," or "Mother," or "Mama," and so on. But if you say "my dam" everyone will know which parent you're referring to. (Remember, demons aren't restricted by species when having children, but the child will always share a species with the one who birthed them. That's the main reason why it's traditionally delineated by "gave birth" and "didn't.")



Abigail
"I'll alert General Yara of your arrival. I'm sure she'll call for you, soon." The dryad gave me a curtsy, lifting her skirt up just a little bit higher than she needed to - high enough to let peek at her green panties and dark thighs. And they were nice thighs, too. If I wasn't so damn stressed out, I'd have taken her up on the offer and flashed her back without a second thought. Sadly, I wasn't even sure I could make it through the meeting, let alone an after-work hookup. I still checked her out, though - just to let her know it was a "me" thing, y'know? Not that I really needed an excuse to take in the view.

If she was disappointed, I guess she was too much of a professional to show it. She just gave me a smile and turned towards the door. As for me? The moment she was out of sight, I shuffled my way over to the waiting room couch and flopped. Face against the cushions, body limp, and 'professionalism' told to fuck off for a bit. I had a few minutes, max, before Yara sent her secretary back to get us, and I wanted to squeeze every single second of relaxation I could get out of it.

"Maid shouldn't let guard down."

"I thought guarding me was your job," I replied, lifting my head a little to glare at the speaker. The horned wolf in maid's clothing had her arms crossed and her eyes narrowed at me, in a pretty good imitation of the pre-lecture look I'd occasionally use on Devilla. Of course, it lost a lot of its power when it came from the girl who'd put me in this state to begin with. "Just warn me when someone comes to get us, alright?"

"Maid is the one who always says act proper."

"And you're the one who only listens when it suits her," I snapped back, letting my head drop back down. I knew from past annoyances that a mouthful of cushioning wouldn't stop her from hearing me. "Do you even know what 'proper' means?"

"Expected thing." Bailey growled. "Know words, Maid. Not dumb. Grammar just too confusing."

"I never said you were dumb," I replied, rolling my eyes. Not that she could even see it, what with me being face down. "Look, I don't know what it was like in the wild, but growling at people isn't 'proper.' Referring to people by their jobs, instead of their name isn't… Well, okay, that one's maybe a tiny bit more complicated, but you could at least try! The other maids don't exactly like being called 'Servant,' you know!"

Bailey didn't answer me right away. Unless glaring counts? Because she was probably doing that. The whole "can't see someone's eyes if they're face down on a pillow" thing worked both ways, though, so at least I got to enjoy a few seconds of relaxing silence, either way. Not that it did me much good, in the end.

"Maid right that this not wild," Bailey eventually replied, speaking slowly. Carefully, even. "People hurt with mouth here, but not teeth. People say what they not mean, and act like they not say. And have weird names. Lots and lots of weird names. Hard to remember, harder to say, impossible to understand. But jobs different. They tell things - let everyone know where everyone stands. Queen in charge, Maid with Queen, I help Queen. Maid important to Queen, so I guard Maid. It simple. But not easy. Still hard to understand. To be understa…stood. Especially when Maid not try."

I grimaced. Honestly, this was not a conversation I wanted to be having right now. But it wasn't like I could actually say so. I mean, that little speech of hers was more than I'd ever heard Bailey say in one sitting - hell, by word count alone, it might've been more than I'd ever heard from her, period. And, as much as I hated to admit it, she maybe, sort of, kinda had a point about me not making an effort to understand her side of things. I mean, in my defense, even Devilla couldn't figure out what was going on in her head half the time, and that was with literal mind reading in the mix. And I didn't exactly regret telling her off for baring her teeth at people, instead of sitting her down and asking her why. But excuses weren't going to get us anywhere, so…

"Alright, fine," I sighed, forcing myself to sit up. "Consider this me trying. But you've got to do your part, too! You've gone from stubborn to sulky since Devilla left, and I wanna know why." I could deal with her constant glaring, and judgy grumbling. I wouldn't have lasted a week working for Devilla, if I couldn't handle at least that much. But it was different when it was coming from someone who insisted on sticking to me like glue!

Bailey frowned, furrowing her brow - or more like the area around her horn, I guess - and staring into my eyes. I have no clue what the hell she was looking for, let alone how she planned to find it - succubi eyes aren't exactly expressive, what with being pitch black and all - but I still made a point of meeting her gaze. I figured it was the thought that counted.

Even if some of my thoughts were drifting over to the realization that I could be rolling my completely uncovered eyes even now, and she still wouldn't be able to tell, facedown or not. When the hell did I start thinking of visible eye parts as the default? Maybe I needed to spend more time hanging out with other succubi.

"Not wear Queen's clothes."

"Huh?" Had I missed something? "I thought you didn't want to wear them?" She practically threw a fit when I suggested it! Kept saying it wasn't right to wear anything with Devilla's scent - nevermind the fact that Devilla probably hadn't even touched half the stuff in her wardrobe. Or seen it. Hell, I was pretty sure she had a couple spare closets she didn't even know about.

"Wrong for me to wear Queen's clothes," Bailey said, glaring at me. And crossing her arms. Basically just copying my pre-lecture look, again - though with a bit more of an effect, this time, since I actually felt a bit bad for letting my brain wander.

So, getting back on topic… Maybe it was the argument over what to wear that had her out of sorts? But it wasn't like we'd spent a ton of time bickering about it. I had plenty of coworkers with similar sizes, so borrowing a uniform was a pretty damn obvious solution. The only real issue had been keeping Bailey from scaring them away whenever I tried to ask for a favor. It wasn't like I could blame her for getting upset about how everyone kept sympathizing with me, for being 'stuck' with a 'terrible boss,' who had 'unrealistic expectations' and 'no sense of boundaries,' but glaring and growling at someone like you wanna murder them doesn't exactly help when you're asking for a favor.

What else could it be, though? The only other clothes related thing I could remember was….

"Wait. Is this about me not wearing Devilla's clothes?! I thought you were being sarcastic!" I mean, she suggested it right after telling me why wearing Devilla's clothes was a terrible idea!

"Wouldn't say if didn't mean," Bailey said, glaring at me. "Clothes serious. Wearing Queen's clothes, having Queen's scent, serious."

"So, what, you wearing them would be bad, but me not wearing them is some sorta crime?"

"Yes," Bailey said, with a nod. I stared at her, waiting for her to add something - anything - that would help me understand her. And in response, Bailey tilted her head to the side, frowned, and then finally said, "I and Maid different."

"That's…" I put my head in my hands and tried not to groan. Groaning was not going to help us figure this shit out. But maybe a bit of complaining was okay? Constructive complaining. "Did it ever occur to you to maybe try and explain yourself, instead of waiting around for everyone else to figure you out? You literally just gave me a whole ass speech about how hard it is for us to understand one another, so stop acting like all this should be obvious and tell me what the damn difference between us is!"

Bailey snorted, turning her head away from me. She also pointed one of her ears at me, though, so it wasn't like she was done talking. More like she was being a petty little bitch about it, and didn't wanna admit I had a point. "I here to serve Queen. Maid here for Queen. Maid speaks for Queen. Carries Queen's will when Queen gone. Maid needs to wear Queen's scent, so everyone knows. Not complicated."

I rolled my eyes. Again. Mostly because I knew she couldn't see it anyway, and I figured it was my turn to be petty. "I don't need to wear Devilla's clothes for that. It's not exactly a secret that I'm her personal maid, you know?"

Bailey growled. "Maid job not important. Maid important. It Maid Queen treasures, more than anyone, or anything."

"...Don't you think that's overstating it a little?" I mean, sure, Devilla liked me. And yeah, she definitely valued my company - I'd have to be blind not to see that. But Bailey was seriously oversimplifying it. "The only reason she 'treasures' me the most is that I'm the only person in the tower that actually treats her like a friend. I'm sure she'll be the same with all the other friends she'll make, down the line."

"Later not matter," Bailey snarled, turning her head back around to glare at me. "Queen now loves Maid. Queen now would do anything for Maid. But most important, Queen now trusts Maid - trusts you. But when people say bad things about Queen, about how Queen treats you? You say nothing. Everyone knows you work for Queen. But not even Queen knows how you feel about Queen."

"That's…" not true, I wanted to say. Except maybe it kinda was? I mean, I didn't even realize I saw her as a friend until after she'd left. But as for speaking up for her? "There's…" more to it than that. Too much for me to explain, right now, though. It would sound like an excuse. "You have no idea..." what a bitch Devilla was to work for, just a couple weeks ago. But it was her relationship with me that everyone kept insulting. Something that didn't even exist back then. "They wouldn't…" believe me, if I said she'd improved. They'd just think I was kissing up to her. But why did that even matter? Lenora was the closest thing I had to a friend among the staff, and she practically worshiped Devilla. "I…" had so many things to say, I wasn't even sure where to start. Which probably meant I should shut up, and think for a bit.

This wasn't the time or place for those thoughts, though. Right now, I needed to call a truce with Bailey so that we could both calm down a bit. General Yara's secretary cou-

"Door."

I straightened myself out in a hurry, standing up and facing the door with a smile. My hair was a bit of a mess, and my clothes were pretty wrinkly, but with the door already swinging open I didn't exactly have time to fix it. I was a little pissed at Bailey for not warning me sooner - especially since she was making such a big deal about me representing Devilla, or whatever - but that didn't last long. It was kinda hard to hold a grudge when I realized we were most likely both caught off guard.

"Ladies Abigail and Bailey, I presume?" the incoming maid asked, slithering - silently - towards us. She was a lamia - basic demonoid form from head to hip, and a snake's body down below, with skin colored scales marking the border in between. She was hot, too. Dark brown tresses that ran straight down to the small of her back, sharp green eyes that matched the color of her tail, long, beautiful lashes, and absolutely gorgeous abs. I might have been the one to pull a curtsy-flash this time, tired or not, if it wasn't for one tiny little detail ruining the image - an incredibly fake smile.

Now, don't get me wrong, here - I wasn't expecting sincere happiness, or anything like that. Forced smiles are kinda par for the course, in the service industry! But we're talking 'a blank stare would have been more welcoming,' levels of fake, here. And then there's her way too stiff introduction to consider. I mean, the words were fine - a lot of the higher class maids tended to go with more formal speech - but she was way too stiff. And, again, it's not like I was expecting enthusiasm! More like coldness, or arrogance, or even annoyance, considering Devilla's reputation around here. But she just sounded awkward. Like she wasn't used to greeting someone like this. Honestly, I would have assumed she was someone higher up the command chain - someone who wasn't used to being deferential - if it wasn't for her outfit. A black breast band, with white frills could probably pass as street-clothes in the wild, but it pretty much screamed "maid" in any sort of formal setting.

"Who are you?" Bailey asked. Her voice was a bit different than I was used to - it had a sort of deep rumble, like she was trying to growl without actually growling. Which was honestly a pretty big step-up from where I was sitting.

"My name is Nivera. General Yara sent me to let you know that she'll be busy for a bit longer, and to serve some refreshments on her behalf." A wooden tray floated up and over her head, as she said that, coming down for a landing right on her open palm. All else aside, I had to give her credit for good magic control - and balance - because the two cups on top hadn't even wobbled during all that.

"You can just call me Abigail." I flashed her a (much less obviously) fake smile of my own, and reached out to grab a cup. Between all the weird, 'unmaidenly' behavior, and her way too conveniently timed entrance, I would've preferred to pass on the beverage, but with Bailey sniffing at the cup and glaring at Nivera, I figured at least one of us needed to be polite. "No offense, but it feels weird to be called 'Lady' by another maid."

Nivera gave me an even wider (and faker) smile, as she shook her head. "Oh, I wouldn't dare speak so casually to the Queen's personal maid, Lady Abigail. Who knows what Queen Devilla might do, if word of my rudeness were to reach her ears? I've heard she's quite protective of her only…" She paused, pressing a finger against her chin, and frowning at me. "What are you to her, anyway? Besides the only one in the whole tower who'd even consider sharing a bed with her, I mean."

I froze. Not out of shock, or anger, though. More like confusion - partially from the way she shifted from awkward greeting to fluid condescension, but mostly 'cause I couldn't figure out what the hell she was thinking. I mean, what sort of idiot would insult someone by pointing out why it's a terrible idea to offend them? Back before the rite, Devilla really would have thrown a hissy fit if any of this reached her! And she wasn't wrong about Devilla being protective of me, either, changed woman or no. She hadn't exploded on anyone since the rabbit girl incident, but I saw how she clenched her fists whenever someone made a snide remark about me. So in what world could it possibly be a good idea to purposely piss me off? Not to mention the fact Bailey was here next to me, and she was pretty much infamous for… Wait. Why wasn't Bailey saying anything? I mean, her eyes were narrowed, but-

"What?" Nivera scoffed. "Were you expecting Devilla's little lap dog to come to your aid? It's Devilla she's loyal to, isn't it? Not some hanger-on who slept her way into her mistress's good graces."

I put the cup back on the platter - because screw being polite, and she probably spat in it anyway - and glared at her. "Look, I don't know why the hell you think it's a good idea to try and piss me off in the middle of your boss's waiting room, but-"

"Oh, don't be so dramatic. It's not like there's anything wrong with sleeping with your boss. Even if your boss is Devilla, of all people. I am curious as to what you're getting out of it, though. It's got to be more than a raise, right? Because I don't know what she's paying you, but it can't possibly be enough to put up with her."

"Not that it's any of your business, but I don't need money to sleep with people I actually like," I replied, through gritted teeth. "Though, if it's for a friend, I guess I can manage a conversation with girls I seriously dislike. No matter how bitchy they are."

Nivera's expression didn't change, but I saw the way her fingers twitched, and started to curl. She had the same tell as Devilla, it seemed - and surprisingly thin skin. As nice as it was to score a hit, I'd have honestly preferred to keep my mouth shut altogether, rather than rising to this bitch's bait. How the hell was I supposed to keep quiet, though, when I still had Bailey's words running through my head?

"Wow…" Nivera whispered. "I heard the rumors, but… Devilla really has stooped to a new low, hasn't she? I mean, taking a maid to bed is one thing, but making some random red blood pretend to be her friend? Does she think that'll somehow make her popular, or something? Or is she just that desperate for affection?"

"I'm not pretending," I said, narrowing my eyes at her. I wanted to ask her what the hell she meant by 'red blood,' but I figured she'd probably just mock me for being ignorant. And it wasn't like I could have trusted any answer she gave me, anyhow.

"Wait… Were you serious!? You actually like her? No way… You're just putting on an act, right? Maybe trying to keep Devilla's little pet from reporting back to her mistress? I mean, there's no way you'd have come here if she actually meant anything to you."

"What the hell's that supposed to mean?" I demanded, in complete disregard of all those wonderfully rational thoughts about her baiting me and me not trusting her. There was something different about that last sentence, though. It wasn't really anything concrete. Her voice was still annoying, her words were still bitchy, and her expression was so damn haughty that I was constantly struggling against the urge to punch her in the face. But there was something almost angry in her words, and that somehow made it feel sincere. And, judging by the way Bailey started growling, I wasn't the only one who thought so.

"What do you think it means?" Nivera asked, rolling her eyes.

I continued to glare, but it didn't seem to have much of an effect. The downside of having pitch black eyes - great for hiding sarcasm, terrible for letting people know just how pissed you are at them. Lucky for me, Bailey was there to pick up the slack with a deep throated growl and a showing of very sharp teeth.

"Are you seriously going to make me spell it out for you?"

"Are you seriously still trying to fuck with me?"

Nivera snorted. "Please. I haven't even begun to fu-"

"What she means," rumbled a voice from behind Nivera, "is that your request for a meeting ruined General Doll's efforts to shield you and Devilla from bloodline politics. And that she wants to know whether you're a well meaning idiot who actually cares about her precious childhood friend, or just a dumb bitch who just doesn't give a fuck."

Nivera spun around to face the doorway, while I moved over to the left of her to get a better look without the lamia's bulk in my way. And to avoid getting splattered by the drink Nivera had been holding onto, which was currently rolling its way across the carpet now that Nivera had given up on balancing the tray. Bailey, meanwhile, seemed to have noticed the newcomer before either of us - I couldn't be sure, but I had to wonder whether her sudden aggression had actually been directed at her.

The woman in question was maybe four feet tall, with boots on, and probably smaller without. Not much smaller, though - her mud caked footwear was obviously built for function over height compensation. If anything, she seemed to embrace her stocky build, with tight blue shorts that hugged her wide hips, and drew attention to her thick green thighs. Her eyes were narrowed in annoyance, and her lips were pulled down into a frown, and while I've got no clue how she managed it from her height, there was something about the way she looked at me and Nivera that it feel like we were being looked down on, despite her needing to crane her neck just to look us in the eyes.

"What the fuck, Yara?! You were supposed to wait until I was done!"

And that's the chapter! I hope you enjoyed seeing Abigail's side of things, because you can expect to see chapters like this with some frequency going forth. Specifically, I'm sort of planning to split things in two - Abigail will be handling things in the tower for Devilla, while she travels with Lucy, while giving us some insights into tower life in the process, as well as demon culture as a whole. That isn't to say that Devilla won't be doing anything towerside, though! She'll be coming back regularly, talking with Abigail (among other activities), and handling issues as they arise. It's just that Abigail will be doing the legwork, so that Devilla can more easily jump back and forth between the girls.

Other than that, I just want to give a quick shout out to my proofreader, FallingLeaf, and wonderful beta reader/cheerleader Lulla. This chapter would have been a lot harder to pull off without them, and that's really saying something. If you enjoyed, please do consider leaving a comment. Feedback is great fuel for the writing process~)
 
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Chapter 15
Abigail

"What the fuck, Yara?!" Nivera screeched, pointing an accusing finger at the goblin in the doorway. "You were supposed to wait until I was done!"

The general clicked her tongue, turning away from her… probably-not-a-maid, to give me and Bailey a once over. "Normally, this is where I'd apologize on Nivera's behalf, if only for the sake of niceties. Seeing as how you're the ones who dragged us all into this mess to begin with, though, I figure you deserve whatever you got. Frankly, if it was up to me, I wouldn't have agreed to this meeting in the first place."

"Why agree, then?" Bailey asked, catching me off guard with the first words she'd spoken since Nivera walked in. She looked about as tense as I'd ever seen her, but weirdly enough, her teeth weren't showing. Her jaw was set, but her lips were pressed thin. And she wasn't growling. I guess I should have been thankful for it, considering who she was talking to, but it was honestly kinda uncomfortable seeing her show so much restraint. And not just with her, but Nivera too. It felt like I was missing something. "Snake insult Queen to anger Maid. General step in to stop Snake. Why?"

Something like that.

"You noticed, huh?" Yara chuckled. Because apparently Bailey was right!?

"Know what insults to Queen sound like. Anger. Disgust. Disdain. Snake different. Tone wrong. Sentences fake. Never just accuses - always asks Maid something."

Was that why Bailey had kept quiet? When the hell did she get so good at reading people? And how!? She barely even interacted with anyone! Most of the time, she just laid on the ground in her wolf form, with her eyes shut, and… her ears twitching… Okay, yeah, no, forget I asked.

"Heh. Looks like the wolf's seen right through you, 'Snake.' You wanna tell them what's going on, or should I?"

"This wasn't the fucking deal, Yara," Nivera seethed, clenching her fists. And her tail? I'm not really sure if you can "clench" a tail, per se, but the tip of it was curling and uncurling as it slid across the ground next to me.

"I'll take that as a no, then." Yara gave an exaggerated sigh, then shrugged with a smirk. "Well, she'll probably break down and start giving you the information eventually, one way or another, so for now I'll just tell you enough to get the ball rolling. Starting with a proper introduction."

"'Maid' Abigail, 'Wolf' Bailey, it is my distinct displeasure to introduce you to the bitchy snake in the grass known as Nivera-"

I heard something creak. I guess Nivera's tail found something to squeeze - the juice cup she'd dropped when Yara walked in.

"-Lingington. General Sallina's niece. And, more importantly-"

A loud crack rang out, and a few drops of black juice splattered against my leg.

"-the only other idiot in this entire tower who's ever had the misfortune of considering Devilla a friend."

"Childhood friend!" Nivera interjected, while Yara's poor tableware kept on creaking and cracking. It was pretty much nothing but a bundle of splinters at this point. "We haven't spoken in over a decade! And also, I hate her!"

"We're a few months shy of the fifteen year mark, actually," Yara said. She didn't so much as glance at Nivera, which was clearly only worsening the girl's temper, judging by how red her face was getting. Not that I really cared about her emotional well-being, but was it really okay to ignore a girl who's trembling with rage? "And hate's too simple a term for Nivera's idiocy. She'll insult Devilla until she's blue in the face, then curse at anyone who dares to agree. Just think of her as Devilla's estranged, but still weirdly overprotective, sister or something. They're basically family, anyway, so it's fitting enough."

"We are not family!" Nivera lifted the tip of her tail up, shaking it at Yara like it was a fist. Or maybe a mace, seeing as how it came with a bundle of pointy wooden bits. "She literally made it illegal to say my name in her presence!"

"And you're literally engaged to her cousin. If that doesn't qualify you for family, I don't know what does."

"Hold on a second!" I shouted, wanting to get a word in before Nivera could violently derail the conversation any further. Surprisingly, it actually worked, with both of them going silent - though that actually led to a kinda awkward moment, where I realized I'd shouted before actually thinking through what I wanted to say. I mean, I'd expected Nivera to start smashing and or throwing things, but instead she was lowering her tail back to the carpet, and letting go of the wooden shrapnel. I could see the anger draining out of her in real time, as her shoulders slumped and her fingers uncurled. Though she was still glaring at Yara. Who was ignoring her to stare at me. Who still hadn't actually said anything. "...Devilla has a cousin?"

"What? She didn't tell you?" Nivera asked, finally looking away from Yara and towards me. Not that I was exactly craving acknowledgement from a violent snake girl. Especially not when it came with a smug smirk.

"Don't let Nivera get to you," Yara warned me, shaking her head. "She's just testing you - pissing you off, so she can peel apart your reactions. It's how she deals with everyone. Personally? I'd be more surprised if Devilla had told you anything - I doubt she even knows Chloe exists."

"Of course she doesn't," Nivera scoffed, looking away from me and Yara, in favor of staring down at her tail. Or maybe the spilled juice next to her tail, which she was now magically pulling out of the carpet fabric for some goddess forsaken reason, to create a big floating glob of black juice. She couldn't actually be cleaning, could she? "You bloodliners did everything you could to keep her away from the redbloods in her family, didn't you? Treating them like a stain on the great Satanne name."

"Says the bloodliner," Yara retorted, folding her arms and glaring at her. "You can pretend to be a redblood all you want, Nivera, but you can't change what runs through your veins."

The very tip of Nivera's tail tilted back, then whipped forward, in what had to be one of the most childishly dramatic gestures I'd ever seen, as all the juice she'd gathered flew towards Yara. It splattered against something - a wind shield of some sort, I guess? - about half an inch in front of the general, with the droplets flying off to either side of her. Yara didn't so much as flinch. Which was an impressive display of iron-clad nerves, and all that, but…

"Any chance you two can stop it with the private feud for a minute, and actually explain what the fuck is going on? Because as shocking as the whole 'secret cousin' thing is, I'd actually like to move onto the fact that a minor errand is apparently unravelling some sort of fucking conspiracy!?"

"You're the one who asked," Nivera pointed out. Which… Y'know, fair? But it was kinda hard to take her complaint seriously when she was pouting like a sulky child, with her arms crossed, and her head turned to the side.

Her choice to start flinging the cup's splinters against Yara's shield - one at a time - wasn't exactly helping, either.

"And it's not a conspiracy," Yara added, rubbing a few fingers against her half-bowed forehead. "But it is complicated. By which I mean you're going to have way too many questions, and I've got enough of a headache already. Nivera can explain it better, anyway."

"We can talk details in Yara's office," Nivera said, sliding her tail under the wooden platter and flipping it up, so that she could catch it - and, of course, throw it. Except this time she threw hard - like, smash through the wind shield with a bang, hard. Like, Yara actually had to hold out her palm to block it, and the platter cracked when it hit, hard.

"Fuck!" Yara cursed, waving her hand about, like she was trying to shake off the pain. The glare she directed at Nivera, though, was surprisingly…. Not furious? More mildly irritated. "Fine. You broke through the damn shield. Satisfied?"

"No."

I took a moment to stare at the two women. Nivera, with her arms crossed and her cheeks puffed out. Yara, rolling her eyes and shaking her head, acting like Nivera was throwing a tantrum rather than unleashing an attack that probably would have broken my hand. And the only thing I could think to say was…

"Yeah, no, I'm not going anywhere with either of you. Yara just said it's not a conspiracy, so why not just tell me here?"

Nivera pursed her lips. Her head turned a little, and her eyes darted over to Yara. The goblin yawned, and leaned back against the doorframe. It didn't escape my notice that she'd stuck her feet out as far as she reasonably could, in the process. Which… wasn't all that far, really, but it was enough that a snake girl without legs wouldn't be able to push through without shoving her out of the way. Something Nivera looked tempted to do for a moment, as her body tensed and her fingers started to twitch, like they wanted to curl into fists. After a few seconds, though, she let out a loud groan and threw up her hands, causing Yara to let loose with a smug smirk that wiped away any sense of gratitude I might have had towards her. It was pretty damn clear at this point she was just doing this to fuck with Nivera, rather than to help with me.

"Fine," Nivera grumbled. "Whatever. Yara's apparently decided I don't get to keep secrets, anyway! And it's not like we have a spyproof office right down the hall or anything!"

"Anything that can be found out with a few minutes of legwork doesn't count as a secret. Especially when Abigail's probably the only girl in the tower who hasn't figured this bit out, anyway. And maybe Bailey. Hard to get a read on that one."

Another chuckle from Yara had me glancing over my shoulder. Bailey must have moved when I wasn't paying attention, because she was now standing maybe half a step behind and to the right of me. Guarding me, I guess. Though she didn't exactly paint a picture of vigilance at the moment, with her head and juice cup tilted way back, and her tongue stuck stretched out to lick the last few droplets of juice off the inner rim. I really wish I could say Yara was purposefully trying to piss me off, putting Bailey's observational skills above mine under the circumstances, but considering how well she'd been reading the room so far… Well, I was still pissed, but not about the comparison.

"You know, I'm getting pretty tired of everyone insulting my intelligence instead of just answering a simple question! I think it's pretty obvious at this point there's information I don't have!"

"Oh, there's a ton of information you don't have," Nivera scoffed, before finally turning her head to look at me. "But let's just start with what you do." She held up a finger. "One of the Demon Queen's maids somehow managed to become her first friend - or confidante, or whatever the fuck your relationship is - in over a decade." A second finger. "Said Queen's personality seems to have flipped around overnight." A third. "The Queen suddenly started going in and out of the tower, bringing in new food, and a wild demon girl from a species nobody's ever heard of before!" A fourth. "And then, when the Queen's out doing who knows what, the Queen's mysterious new companions request a private meeting with the general in charge of the tower's food supplies." A fifth. "So that you could ask her about General Nella's favorite fucking snack, of all things!"

I opened my mouth. Then I closed it and crossed my arms. "So, what?" I asked with confidence I absolutely did not feel, and an absolute refusal to let the blood drain from my face. "You think I did something to Devilla?"

"Fuck no," Nivera snorted. "I mean, I considered it. I'd be an idiot not to. But there's no way you could work magic on the freaking Demon Queen, of all people, and you obviously don't have what it takes for manipulation. Devilla probably got some bit of info in the rite that changed things for her."

I took a moment to decide whether I should be more relieved or insulted by her read on me, before deciding that I could figure that shit out after I had more information on why I was even here. "So what-"

"Remember what I told you at the start?" Yara cut in. "About General Doll keeping everyone away from you? That's because everyone was afraid of history repeating itself. Because of what happened the last time they interfered with Devilla's attempts to make a friend."

"What happened…?"

"Things got fucked up, is what." Nivera spoke softly, barely going above a whisper, but there was anger in her voice. Just like when she'd talked about how I wouldn't be here if I cared about Devilla, except bigger. Fiercer. "My parents practically disowned me. Devilla started firing people, and restructuring everything. Putting aside the nitty gritty details of how fucking terribly that whole mess went, I'm sure even you can guess how it ended - with her locked up in her room, throwing tantrums and screaming at her staff about breakfast orders. Trying to convince herself she didn't need anyone, because they taught her she couldn't have anyone. All because a bunch of self-important assholes couldn't stand the idea of me being the only one with their little princess's ear."

"It's called politics," Yara added, pushing off of the doorframe, stretching towards the ceiling, before turning to walk down the hall. "I can't stand it personally. Same with Nivera, I guess, but she's actually good at it. …So long as she lets other people do the talking, that is."

"Fuck you." Nivera glared at Yara's retreating back, before turning her eyes back to me. "Everything was going fine. Doll was working non-stop to convince everyone that it was better to let Devilla galavant around rather than risk breaking her again. Even Sylvanna was in your corner. But you just had to open the fucking box, didn't you?"

"I…" I was going to kill Lenora for suggesting this meeting. And then myself, for thinking it was a good idea. And maybe slap my past self for agreeing to work with Devilla, in the first place, while I was at it - not that I'd actually change my mind, even if I could. But I was sure as hell going to curse that fact! When the hell did I get so attached?

"...Are you sure there's no chance I could ask you for help, instead?" I called out to Yara, as Nivera turned away from me and began to slither down the hall after the goblin.

"You'd have a better chance of getting into a Heroine's pants!" Yara called back. Thankfully, she was facing the wrong direction to see me wince. "But I'll get you another one of those potions, alright? Just don't let Nivera fling any of this one at me."

"Potions…?" I glanced over at Bailey, who tilted her empty cup towards me.

"Gives energy. Clears mind. Helps focus. Useful."

I stared at Bailey's cup for a moment, then the shards of the cup I'd almost taken, and finally Nivera's retreating back. I remembered the way she'd started to rile me up, just as I reached for the drink…

"What the hell have I gotten myself into…?"

"Don't worry," Bailey said, walking past me to follow the others. "I protect Maid."

Well, I decided to get through all of Abigail's scenes, then jump over to Devilla and Lucy. (The first of those chapters is already written - I'm expecting it to be chapter 17, at this point.)

I hope everyone is enjoying Nivera and Yara's antics - or at least finding them interesting? Especially since we'll be seeing a lot more of Nivera in particular, going forward. A lovely little headache for poor Abigail to deal with. (I can't wait to introduce you all to her fiancée!)

I'm currently working on chapter 16. Unsure as to when it'll be up, but hopefully it won't be too much longer - the gap between it and chapter 17 shouldn't be longer than a week, or two, though. (It might be shorter, seeing as how it's already written, but I'm kind of hoping for it to be the beginning of a backlog. We'll see how fast I get chapter 18 written.)

That's pretty much all I've got to say, beyond a general "thank you for reading!" and a quick shoutout to my proofreader, FallingLeaf, and my betareader Lulla. If you enjoyed, please do consider hitting the like/heart button - comments and reviews are also appreciated, of course~! I always love to hear what people think of the story. <3
 
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