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.)
 
Last edited:
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!)
 
Last edited:
Happy to see this thread get caught up. Looking forward to seeing where it goes from here.

I enjoyed reading this story. No grammar/punctuation issues jumped out at me - each chapter seemed well proofread. I love that.

The plot is fun, and the mature stuff doesn't overstay its welcome or detract from the story. I enjoyed the slivers of internal demon spire politics and governing the most. Wish there was more of that. The slice of life was nice too, though.

Thanks for posting here. I never would have found this story otherwise.
 
Happy to see this thread get caught up. Looking forward to seeing where it goes from here.

I enjoyed reading this story. No grammar/punctuation issues jumped out at me - each chapter seemed well proofread. I love that.

The plot is fun, and the mature stuff doesn't overstay its welcome or detract from the story. I enjoyed the slivers of internal demon spire politics and governing the most. Wish there was more of that. The slice of life was nice too, though.

Thanks for posting here. I never would have found this story otherwise.


Glad you're enjoying it! I'm not as confident when it comes to the earlier chapters, which I was doing without any help, but I've had a good editor and proofreader for the latter half which has helped immensely.

I try to make the mature scenes part of the plot when possible. I know I have readers who want it as often as possible, and readers who prefer it to be used sparingly - I'd love to say I'm trying to balance it properly, but really I'm just writing them whenever it feels natural for the characters. The main characters are all fairly casual when it comes to intercourse, but there's still a time and place for it, and those involved have to be in the right mood.

As for internal politics - well, all I can say is that you'll probably enjoy Abigail's upcoming interludes. I'm not sure if I'll be keeping to this in future volumes but for this one, I'm planning to have Abigail give readers a good look at the state of the tower, while Devilla splits her time between adventures in the outside world and issues that come up in the tower.
 
This was posted elsewhere? I guess it was obvious given how many full chapters could be posted at once. Still, it is defiantly pretty interesting. One of the few fics where I am interested in the ongoing struggles of side characters. Poor Abigail, how can you ever compete with the Heroine herself?
 
This was posted elsewhere? I guess it was obvious given how many full chapters could be posted at once. Still, it is defiantly pretty interesting. One of the few fics where I am interested in the ongoing struggles of side characters. Poor Abigail, how can you ever compete with the Heroine herself?

Yup! Sufficient Velocity was late to the party, I'm afraid, but I'm glad I could post it here. Also very happy that I've caught up.
 
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!)
 
Last edited:

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 she was willing to put up with serving a brat. Since becoming close to Devilla, however, she's been letting her real self show - at first because she found Devilla's behavior too exasperating to even bother keeping up a front, and later because she knows Devilla will accept the real her. She's easily irritated, 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, these 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 her mother's favoritism. 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!)
I keep getting (unsafe) warnings when trying to open the pictures?
 
I keep getting (unsafe) warnings when trying to open the pictures?

I'm guessing they're coming from McAffee/Trusted Advisor? For some reason they flagged the site as malicious - I've sent in an appeal, but I'm not sure how long it'll take to fix.

In the meantime, I went ahead and uploaded the pictures to a neutral hosting site. I've already edited the previous posts to link there, instead, but I'll post them here as well for convenience sake.

Devilla: https://i.ibb.co/n88ps0D/Devilla.jpg
Abigail: https://i.ibb.co/mBWxxZH/Abigail-Copy.jpg
 
I'm guessing they're coming from McAffee/Trusted Advisor? For some reason they flagged the site as malicious - I've sent in an appeal, but I'm not sure how long it'll take to fix.

In the meantime, I went ahead and uploaded the pictures to a neutral hosting site. I've already edited the previous posts to link there, instead, but I'll post them here as well for convenience sake.

Devilla: https://i.ibb.co/n88ps0D/Devilla.jpg
Abigail: https://i.ibb.co/mBWxxZH/Abigail-Copy.jpg
Chrome itself throws up the first warning, then Verizon by way of McAffee does a second round of warnings.
 
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.
 
Last edited:
I really like this story. The characters are very engaging, but more importantly, it deals with the… themes? of becoming better, the nature of redemption, and reestablishing an identity thats both already firm and familiar yet confusing and shakey really well.
 
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~)
 
Last edited:
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
 
Last edited:
I'm... I'm not entirely sure what happened in that last scene. Have we met General Doll before? Who is General Nella? And what is her favorite snack?

Also, I had thought the general in charge of food production was a dryad. Is my adhd kicking my ass, or did I miss a chapter somewhere?
 
I'm... I'm not entirely sure what happened in that last scene. Have we met General Doll before? Who is General Nella? And what is her favorite snack?

Also, I had thought the general in charge of food production was a dryad. Is my adhd kicking my ass, or did I miss a chapter somewhere?

We haven't heard of Doll or Nella before - but her favorite snack is peppermint, the thing Abigail came here to ask about. They'll be discussed next chapter, a bit, along with the ramifications of everything. This chapter is one where Abigail's kind of being left in the dust, and I was hoping to create a similar experience for her and the readers - confused but determined to know more, even if you kind of want to strangle the person handing out the information.

Goblins and dryads work together on the food production, but Yara's never been called one.
 
Last edited:
Good news - chapters 16, 17 and 18 are all finished! 17 and 18 are both pretty short - around 2,000 words - but they both reached what I felt was a natural stopping point. And having three chapters already written means I can have something approximating a schedule, at least for a little while! As such, I'll be posting a chapter every Sunday for the next few weeks - on 1/21, 1/28, and 2/04.
 
Chapter 16
Abigail

I really wish I could say that I walked into Yara's office with my head held high, and a fierce look in my eyes. Or at least with righteous irritation and a lot of stomping. I mean, Nivera and her basically called me an idiot, mocked me for not knowing things I had no way of knowing anything about, and bickered with one another while I just sort of stood there - like I was just some bystander and not at the center of this whole damn mess… Thing is, the stuff Nivera pointed out? The stuff I did know? Kinda made me think that I should have seen something like this coming.

I mean, it was pretty easy to forget with Devilla being… Devilla, but the "Queen" in Demon Queen was there for a reason. It wasn't all about fighting (or fucking?) the Heroine in order to save demonkind - it was also about being in charge. Not that she'd really done much with the job, like ever, as far as I knew, but… No, wait, I guess she made it illegal to say Nivera's name in her presence, or something? Which, on the one hand, felt incredibly dumb and petty. But on the other hand, the fact that she could just do that was sorta the point. Her word was literally law. She could… I don't know, declare it illegal to be blonde, or something, and I'd be expected to buy hair dye immediately.

And then there was me. Some random ass maid who came out of nowhere and became her best friend. Someone who could theoretically - okay, pretty much definitely - ask her to pass a bunch of laws, and get it done. And now I was here, asking to meet with another powerful figure, while Devilla herself was out doing stuff I couldn't exactly tell anyone about. That sort of thing sent a message - a message these two were apparently volunteering to help me take back. So I could cut them a little slack, right?

That's what I had to keep telling myself, at least. It helped me keep my cool under Nivera's death glare. And also kept me from snapping at Yara, who was leaning back in her chair, boots on her desk, with her eyes closed. Like she wanted to drive home the fact that she was done helping me. Even Bailey was at risk, if I couldn't keep calm - though her biggest crime was just making me feel awkward, by silently standing behind me and glaring at the other two.

Thankfully, the uncomfortable stillness was broken pretty quickly - even if it really didn't feel like it, in the moment - when the dryad secretary who'd first greeted me (what felt like a bajillion years ago) walked through the door with a fresh cup of that black juice Nivera had served Bailey and me. Or rather, the potion Nivera basically tricked me into giving up, I guess.

I glanced at the snake in question as I took the cup, wondering if she'd make another move to keep me from drinking it. She didn't say, or do, anything though. If anything, her face was maybe a bit too blank? Like she was purposefully holding back, or something. Weird, but I wasn't going to drive myself crazy trying to figure out what the fuck was going on there, so I mentally shrugged, tipped it back, and…

"Gah!" Bitter!

Nivera snorted, and even Yara let out a little chuckle, while I glowered at the both of them - maybe with a little more heat than I normally would for something as harmless as this, but screw it, I had an excuse. Anger didn't stop me from chugging the remainder of the drink, though. Even if it was mostly spite that kept it down.

Technically, I didn't need to drink the whole potion to make it work. But plant based potions - which I was pretty sure this was, what with it being (gross) juice and all - are generally pretty damn weak, compared to ones made with bits of monsters, or monster girls. And while most people could probably fix that by throwing enough magic at the problem, my magic capacity was kinda… Small.

I needed all the help I could get, basically.

"If you're done poisoning your tastebuds with bitterbean," Nivera started, "there's still a lot for us to talk about."

"Fuck you." I considered cursing Bailey out, too, for not telling me what to expect, but a quick glance at her showed she was more confused than anything. She hadn't had any problem with it, I guess. So, instead, I just reached for my magic. My capacity was sort of pitiful, like I said, but drinking the full thing had given me a big ball of warmth in my gut to work with. Just channeling what power I could afford through it was enough to clear out some of the stress-based fog from my brain, bringing the world into sharper focus. Something that would hopefully help me keep up with the slithery bitch. Or at least help me tolerate her antics. Good stuff - taste aside.

"So…" I began. Then stopped, and frowned, because where to begin? Nivera had implied some stuff about Devilla that hadn't really hit me in the moment, but now had me… I don't know. Wanting to ask what the fuck? What was all that crap about 'breaking her again'? Not to mention the stuff about General Doll apparently going to bat for me? And peppermint being General Nella's favorite snack? Which I guess meant it really did exist in the tower, somehow, but I was more concerned about what the hell all this information they were dumping on me actually meant for Devilla and me.

"Queen in danger?" Bailey broke in, stealing the decision from me. Not that I was really complaining - it was as decent a starting point as any.

"Physically?" Nivera shook her head. "No way. She could take on the whole tower, and walk off without a scratch. Emotionally? You tell me - how's she going to react if people start suggesting that you're only hanging with her in order to get near some bloodliner or another?"

"I still don't know what a bloodliner is," I pointed out. "Or redbloods." I mean, I had a couple guesses now that things were calming down, but making her explain it worked better as a deflection.

Unfortunately, Nivera didn't look like she was going to let me go, going off the way she was glaring at me. But what was I supposed to say? That it was a tossup between Devilla getting mad at them on my behalf, or saying it was fine if I used her, because I deserved something for putting up with her? Because I didn't really see Nivera taking that answer well, and if I was being honest, the truth was probably worse - she'd almost definitely do both.

"For fuck's sake, Nivera," Yara groaned, cracking one eye open. "You can't seduce a girl by glowering at her. You need to soften up a bit, if you want her to accept your help."

"I want to help Devilla," Nivera protested. "She's just a potential ally of circumstances." She paused, as if something had just popped into her head, then turned her head to scowl at the general. "And what the fuck happened to staying out of this, anyway?"

"I am staying out of this," Yara said, lifting a hand to her mouth and letting out a yawn. "But this conversation's too painful to spectate without a little heckling, y'know? I can only listen to you stabbing yourself in the tail so many times before it starts to become more annoying than funny."

For once, I think Nivera and my expressions were almost a match - both of us were basically calling her out for that BS in our heads. She'd been interfering almost from the start! I kinda thought Nivera would take it a step further and say it out loud, and she obviously wanted to, but she just pressed her lips into a thin line. Then she turned her attention towards me (yay? Yeah, no), and asked, "What do you know about Demon Generals?"

I blinked, not expecting her to ask about something so… academic. I mean, I'm not sure what I did expect her to ask, beyond not something every child learned in school, but it wasn't that.

As for what I knew… I wasn't really in the mood to start spewing lessons out and hoping I figured out what she was after. She probably wasn't after the super obvious stuff - that they were all in charge of ten floors of the tower, that they used to rule over territories in the wider world back when we had them, and that they all had secondary responsibilities. Like how Yara was in charge of agriculture, and the harpies led by Mifa were meant to be aerial scouts. None of that had anything to do with bloodlines or politics, so far as I could figure. At least not directly.

"You're talking about the noble families, right? Like the Lingingtons, I guess - you're all descended from the generals Luci picked, wayback when the war first started…" Part of their bloodlines.

"Half marks," Yara said, cutting off Nivera as she opened her mouth. Which of course got her a death glare from the perpetually angry snake girl.

"A quarter," Nivera countered. "Tops. My aunt - General Sallina, to you - doesn't even use Lingington as her family name. And we're not nobles. That's just a stupid misconception that the most arrogant of them - which is to say pretty much every asshole relative I've got - don't see a need to challenge."

"Seriously? You manage territories." I held up a finger. "Wield political power." A second. "Are considered special because of your bloodline." A third. "And you have a special term for everyone who isn't you." A fourth. "I mean, redbloods is basically just common blood, isn't it? As in, commoners?" A fifth. Not because it counted as a separate point, but because I felt a little dumb ending on four. "Sure sounds like nobility to me."

"Yeah, well, there's a reason it's such a common misconception," Nivera admitted, grimacing. "But there are differences. Important ones, that have to do with why Devilla's in danger to begin with."

"The big one is that it's not codified by law," Yara said, closing her eyes again. She looked like she was about half a second from falling asleep, but her voice was steady and sharp. I really didn't really get why she was so determined to act like she was uninvolved - maybe just to piss Nivera off? Because relatable, if so. "There's no rule saying our families have to be picked. Nothing that gives us special privileges over the rest of you. Just tradition and expertise."

"And money," Nivera added, scowling at Yara. Which was kind of a wasted effort, in my opinion, but I guess I couldn't fault her for wanting to blow off steam. "Money lets you get away with all sorts of things."

"But it doesn't get you a job in the government," Yara countered. "That's a strict meritocracy - members of our families get the jobs because we're the best at the jobs."

"Because they make sure they're the best," Nivera corrected, hands clenched into fists again. "Our families are meritocracies, too - you're only worth what you bring to the family. Prove yourself worthy? You can get adopted into a higher branch. Fuck up too much, though, and you might as well be dead to them. Add in access to the best tutors money can buy, on the job training, and an unhealthy heaping of nepotism? Somehow, a member of the bloodlines always ends up in charge."

"Okay," I cut-in, despite once again having no real clue where to go from there. I just didn't want to be left in the dust while Nivera and Yara bickered their way into another tangent. Which was… Probably what I needed to say, actually? "As terrible as that all sounds, I'm still not seeing how it relates to Devilla?"

"That's where the inter-bloodline politics kick in," Yara explained, bringing the conversation right back around to where it left off. Hopefully she was being honest, and this actually was on track, because I was starting to wonder if there was even a point to Bailey and me being there. "Your worth is determined by what you bring to the bloodline, but the bloodline's worth is determined by what they bring to the people. The better your territory is doing, the more prestigious your family is, and the more secure your position is. It's the only good part of the system, so far as I'm concerned. Problem is, the bloodlines-"

"Are made up of fucking competitive assholes, brought up in twisted ways, who'd do anything to pull one over on each other." Nivera narrowed her eyes at Yara. "Some people seem to think it's not that bad, though."

"It isn't." Yara said, frowning at Nivera. Which was an almost comically serious expression, when you considered the fact that still had her eyes closed and boots on the desk, like she was readying herself for a nap. "Maybe there's some minor backstabbing - hidden barbs in every sentence, backroom deals, all that annoying crap - but there's lines you don't cross, and everyone knows the rules going into it. Go too far, and even members of your own bloodline will turn against you. But when you add Devilla to the mix…"

"Having her in your corner basically lets you get away with anything, right?" I guessed. Correctly, judging by the look Nivera was giving me. Not sure why she looked so surprised, though - Yara had basically spoonfed me the answer, much as I hated to admit it. "So, what? They're all desperate to get her for themselves?"

"No," Nivera scoffed. "They're desperate to make sure nobody else gets their hands on her. Not that every fucking one of them hasn't spent some time thinking about what they could get done if they had her ear. Like you do."

"Half of them are going to want you in their pocket," Yara said. "And if they can't get you in their pocket, they're going to join the other half in wanting you out of the picture. Which means some idiot's going to take it into her head that souring your relationship with Devilla's the best way to restore the status quo."

"The status quo?" I asked. Seriously?! "You can't tell me they actually want Devilla to go back to being a brat?!" Not that getting rid of me would actually accomplish that, anyway.

"They want her to go back to sulking in her room, so that they can do things without worrying about her interfering," Nivera said. Her fists were clenched so tight her knuckles had turned white - I was seriously expecting blood, at this rate. "And don't say it wouldn't work - this isn't the first time Devilla's done a personality switch, you know. It happened when she befriended me, too. And again when they fucked with our friendship"

"Wait, wh-"

"What?" Nivera interrupted. "You think your life changing friendship is one of a kind? You should know better than anyone how lonely Devilla is. And if she's actually admitting that to herself, again, she's probably getting all desperate for affection, too, right? Shouldn't be that surprising that she acts differently when she's actually getting some, instead of chasing after it, or convincing herself she doesn't need it."

"That's…" Not quite right? The bit about affection, anyway - and I was pretty sure getting past life memories shoved into her head was a once in a lifetime thing, thank you very much. She wasn't wrong about the loneliness, though - Devilla was pretty obviously desperate for me to stick around. I just thought it was something new… I guess I'd never really given her pre-rite self much thought, beyond complaining about what a brat she'd been.

"What was she like as a kid?" I asked. Not really intentionally. The question just sorta slipped out. "Before she was… Broken, I guess?" Made to think she couldn't have anyone?

"When we first met? Less broken." Nivera narrowed her eyes. "Ask Devilla if you want to know more. Assuming she trusts you enough to tell you, anyhow."

"That's not what we're here to talk about, anyway," Yara said, before I could reply. "We're here to talk through your next moves."

"Uh, correct me if I'm wrong, but isn't me working with you guys the problem? Them thinking you 'have my ear,' or whatever?"

"No," Nivera said. "The problem is them thinking you have a political interest at all."

"Before, they figured interacting with you wasn't worth the risk," Yara continued. "Between the chances of Devilla overreacting, and other bloodliners getting pissy, they were more concerned about keeping an eye on one another than actually reaching out to you. But you reaching out to me invalidates that - if you're going to be making connections of your own accord, they'll want those to be with them."

"Great…" I groaned. "And telling them I'm just doing a favor for Devilla wouldn't make it better, I'm guessing?"

"Worse, if anything," Yara confirmed. "Favors don't come without strings in those people's eyes - and you're running a direct line between Devilla and me."

"So… How do you know I'm not doing that?"

"We don't," Yara admitted. Eyes still closed, for the record. "Frankly, if you were trying to go for favors, I'm probably the one you'd come to. Much as I hate the political game, I still play a bit - though mostly with the goal of staying out of the more troublesome bits. Growing a personal supply of favorite foods for the various bloodliners helps keep everyone off my back… And while the fact that my goal's always to stay out of things certainly helps your case, you wanting to talk about peppermint of all things complicates everything."

"What's wrong with wanting peppermint?" I wanted to complain that I barely even knew what it was, but it was pretty damn clear that ignorance wasn't getting me out of anything.

"What's wrong is that it's tied into those favors," Nivera said. "General Nella's favorite snack, remember?"

"Worse," Yara added, "her exclusive snack. I don't even know how you found about the stuff, seeing as how it's not exactly included in the tower's general food supply - a mystery I've already heard other bloodliners speculating about, by the way."

"I…" felt like my brain was breaking here. "I didn't know anything about it being an exclusive snack. Why does she even have an exclusive snack? Why does she have any snacks? Isn't General Nella a spirit?! She shouldn't even be able to eat!" She couldn't even physically touch anything if she wasn't possessing someone!

"Oral fixation," Yara explained, shrugging. "She likes munching on different sorts of mint leaves, among other things. But it would be a waste of our limited space to grow five different varieties of mint for the tower, so…"

"But how does she-"

"Everyone who works under her directly has a possession kink," Nivera broke in. "Satisfied? Because I'd like to get back on topic."

"...Fine," I said, through gritted teeth. "Why don't you go ahead and tell me what you want to do, then, since you obviously have something figured out already?"

"Congrats on figuring out the obvious," Nivera sneered. "It's only the whole reason I'm here - other than the fact that Yara was just going to refuse your request, and leave you to the others."

"I don't like politics. Think I've been pretty clear on that front."

"And yet you obviously don't mind benefiting from them," Nivera scoffed. You know, if you were actually willing to try and help change things like me, maybe we wouldn't be in this fucking mess to begin with?"

"Help Queen how?" Bailey asked. And thank the Fallen she did, because I don't think I'd have been able to get the words out without cursing up a storm.

Nivera gave Bailey a level look. One that lacked any of the anger she always had for me. Then - still looking at Bailey, for some reason - she started talking to me. "Simple. We're going to take control of the narrative. Nobody's going to believe you came here for something innocent, so we'll tell them you came to Yara hoping to sell information about Devilla. Then I swooped in, wanting to keep things from exploding - that's easy enough to believe, everyone knows how I feel about Devilla getting dragged into politics, and Yara would obviously be happy if I took this problem off her hands. We'll have some more meetings, to make it stick - we'll let people see me handing you money, to pay you off and keep you from going to anyone else. Probably have you buy some luxuries, too, to really help sell it… And I guess maybe you can give me some information on how Devilla's doing, so they think I'm getting something more out of it, too. Y'know, basic stuff like how she's doing, or whatever…"

I stared at Nivera. She, meanwhile, continued to stare at Bailey. I considered shouting or cursing at her, to get her to look at me, but honestly… I didn't have the energy. All the frustration I felt at being ignored, all the anger I felt at her condescending tone had suddenly been washed away, replaced by exasperation with this idiot who couldn't even admit she was interested in how Devilla was doing! I mean, seriously?! Was Devilla even in real trouble, or was this all part of some elaborate scheme on her part? Could I trust anything she'd said? And if I couldn't, what was the point of all this?

In the end, I turned to Yara instead. "Does she seriously expect me to agree to meeting up for more of this abuse? Just so that she can spread rumors about me selling out my friend for money?"

That got Nivera to turn her eyes towards me, at least. Not that I cared. "If you really care about Devilla-"

"I do care about Devilla. Which is why I'm going to talk to her, and work something out. And if you 'actually care' about her, then maybe you should do the same."

"How?! It's illegal for anyone to say my name around her, remember!?"

"You're good at plotting, aren't you? Figure something out. Maybe use a nickname, or something." I turned towards the door. "Come on Bailey. I'm going to need a nap if I want the energy to tell Devilla about today."

Hopefully she'd come home tonight, because I had a hell of a lot to say. Starting with the fact that she'd have to pick up her own damn peppermint.

So full disclosure - this chapter didn't end at all in the way I thought it would. I actually planned for Abigail to snap, and unload all her anger at Nivera after being essentially commanded to subject herself to more abuse… But then Nivera got all tsundere, and all that anger disappeared in a wave of pure exasperation. Honestly, I like how it ended up more than my original plan, though. It feels more fitting for this story, especially considering my plans for the future.

That said, I'm rather happy to report that we've officially hit the last chapter with Nivera for a bit, and the second to last with Abigail! We'll officially be returning to Devilla and Lucy's reunion in chapter 18! I've already written that and chapter 17 already, so I'll be posting around this same time next week, and the week after. (They're also available on my Patreon for as little as $1, if you're feeling impatient. <3) I've gotten the first part of chapter 19 done, too, and while I don't want to make promises I can't keep about maintaining a schedule… Well, I'll keep everyone up to date on my progress.

Other than that, I'd just like to thank my proofreader FallingLeaf, and my beta reader Lulla for helping me get all three of these chapters ready for the public.
 
Chapter 17
Early chapter is early! I finished chapter 19 far sooner than I expected - but it was also far shorter than I expected. In fact, chapters 17-19 are all pretty damn short. So, with chapter 19 on Patreon, I decided to release chapter 17 today, and tentatively schedule chapter 18 for the 31st! That way we'll at least get back to Devilla this month, even if the chapter is a bit short.


Abigail​


Devilla wasn't home yet. Yet being the keyword, here, because it was barely evening, and I was pretty sure (read: very hopeful) that she wasn't going to stay out two nights in a row without even checking in. That still left her unavailable to chat at the moment, though, and with the bitterbean potion wearing off… Well, like I'd told Bailey, I was going to need a nap if I wanted enough energy for a proper retelling. Which was why I was maybe a bit less than happy when Bailey started growling, right before I could reach my apartment, and pointed out the fact that there was someone leaning against the wall right next to my door.

The only thing that kept me from snapping at them - other than basic decency, and the small chance that they were actually waiting for a neighbor - was the fact that she seemed familiar. Not familiar as in, 'I recognize her,' though - more like… this feeling like I should recognize her? Which was weird, because I was pretty damn sure I'd never seen her before.

I was also pretty sure I'd know if I had, because she kinda stood out. I mean, for one thing, she was on the small side - I wouldn't call her tiny (not when I was coming back from a meeting with a goblin) but still small enough to stick in my brain - somewhere in the range of five feet. (Maybe five foot one? I wasn't as sensitive to this stuff as Devilla.) And then there was her species - not because kitsune were uncommon, or anything, they just tended towards bright colors. In this case, bright orange hair in a cute pixie cut. Add in her bushy tail and ears, with the white and black tips, and you have a pretty distinct look. Which made that sense of familiarity all the stranger, since I recognized none of it.

At least, not until I caught sight of her violet colored eyes.

"You're-"

"A totally hot, utterly mischievous, and extremely brilliant vixen who also just so happens to be the Queen's cousin?" She interrupted, flashing me a sharp toothed grin, and holding out her hand. "Name's Chloe."

"Nivera's fiancée." I ignored the hand. I'd have preferred to avoid the girl, too, but I didn't really trust her enough to turn my back on her. The smile on her face never faltered, though.

"That too! But I try not to lead with that - it polls really low with pretty much anyone who's met her. Like, way lower than being related to Devilla. At least at first? She really doesn't make the best first impression - which is actually why I'm here!"

"To apologize for her?" If so, I wasn't exactly impressed.

"Nope! I make a point not to fight her battles. Or apologize for her mistakes - kinda gets in the way of her growth, y'know? And believe me, we all know she's in need of that growth. It is related, though."

I frowned, but didn't say anything. Chloe's cheer didn't have the same insincere feel to it as Nivera's… anything and everything that wasn't bitchy. But I still wasn't ready to buy anything that came from her mouth. Bailey on the other hand, didn't seem to share my concerns.

"What Fox want?"

"Glad you asked!" Chloe said, with another toothy grin. "It's like this - wait, first off, have you ever had a broken bone?"

"No." Though I would have probably said the same thing if I did. I didn't know what this girl was after, and I wasn't in the mood to find out. Bailey didn't seem to be in the mood to work against me this time, either, but Chloe didn't seem to care.

"Well, they're bad. Hurt like hell! Worse? If you don't set them right, they can heal all gnarly - like, you might even have to break them again, just to fix things. Bad time all around, really…"

"And your point?" I asked, despite myself. This was either the worst lead in to a threat I'd ever heard, or… Actually, I had no clue what else it could be, but some stupidly morbid part of me actually sort of wanted to find out.

"Well, first impressions are the same! You clash, make bad impressions, stomp off to lick your wounds and by the time you get over it your opinion on the matter's already set and you think you already know everything you need to know about a person! Which sucks, because people are all multi-faceted, and impossible to get from a single meeting? I mean, there were, like, five descriptors in my self-introduction alone, and that barely even scratched the surface of the complexity that is me. Like, I didn't even get into the fact that I'm terrible at metaphors! I mean, by the logic I'm spinning, I'd have to say I'm here to… I don't know, poke the broken bone a bunch, and stop it from healing until Nivera can come set it right…? Which sounds needlessly cruel and kinda gross, but there we go, I guess!"

"Ha…" I let out a… Laugh? A sigh? Some cross between the two that I honestly had no clue what to make of. Which was pretty much how I was starting to feel about this girl, too. Was she really Nivera's partner? That angry snake actually listened to this on a regular basis, and came out thinking 'I want to marry her'? It was kind of hard to believe, but…

"Multiple facets, huh?" I sighed. "So you're saying Nivera isn't just a bitch?"

Chloe nodded. "Honestly, her bitchiness has gone way down since we first met! I mean, sure, she's got anger issues. And trust issues. And yeah, she basically needs a translator because she's so terrible at communicating her actual wants and fears. Which is why her aunt called in, like, half a dozen favors so that General Yara would be an active participant in the conversation, by the way - which I'm guessing went terribly? Seeing how that's basically like tossing a dog in a bag with a cat and telling her to guard the mice that'll be wandering in later - like, sure, the cat and dog will be too busy fighting to focus on the bite sized snacks, but it's not going to make them feel any safer, now is it?"

"You… really do suck at metaphors, don't you?" Honestly, I wasn't sure what confused me more - her analogy, or the fact that I actually understood it. Hell, it even cleared up a couple things - like why Yara kept interjecting, despite clearly not wanting to, even though Nivera spent more time arguing with her about that than actually explaining anything.

"Technically, that was a simile. And I think I actually did pretty well with it, all considering! I mean, I totally see that 'so that's what was going on' look on your face! It probably went exactly like I'm imagining, didn't it?"

"Lots of angry bickering that barely seemed to involve me?"

"Yup! Though, honestly, it could have been worse… Honestly, this whole thing with Devilla maybe getting dragged back into politics thanks to the actions of her friend? Really stomped on her trauma. I mean, it's basically the same scenario that derailed both their lives in the first place. And after she spent a whole week arguing with herself on whether she should get involved and vet you, or just trust that you were actually good for Illa, too…"

"Illa..?"I frowned. "As in Devilla?"

"Uh-huh! You're probably thinking the obvious nickname would be Dev, right? But apparently it started because Devilla called her Niv, which Vera of course thought was terrible, so she tried to retaliate with an equally bad nickname, and it became a whole thing. Something about how it made 'Nivilla' when they put it together? And it coming first made it sound like Nivera was the big sister, or something. Which only made Nivera complain more, seeing as how she's the younger one, but I think that was mostly just her being too embarrassed to admit she liked it. She's always been protective of Devilla, after all… Or at least that's what I gathered from her childhood diary entries."

"...You read her diary?" I asked, arching an eyebrow. And her childhood diary? Wasn't that from fifteen years ago? How'd Chloe even get it?

"I mean, she basically asked me to? Left it on the nightstand, and everything!" She held up a hand before I could comment. "And no, I don't mean that in a creepy invasion of privacy sort of way - this is literally how Nivera communicates. Or doesn't communicate, I guess. The girl sucks at actually asking for help, so she just sort of leaves information where she knows I'll find it, and trusts I'll know what to do with it."

"Right…" I frowned. "Aren't you supposed to be convincing me to give her another shot? Because so far, all I'm hearing is that she's an even bigger pain than I thought she was…"

"No, I'm trying to give you a whole bunch of information you didn't ask for so that I can convince you that there's more to Nivera than you realize. Being a pain is a big part of it, of course, and I have zero intention of hiding that! But so is caring about Devilla. As is scheming, and maneuvering around greedy bloodliners, for the sake of those she cares about. Which is why she'd be a really big help with all the political idiocy that's going on…. With me present, of course - I promise she's better when I'm around. And worse when there's a bloodliner in the room. Especially since she's always trying to keep me away from them… But you'll see that for yourself. If you're willing to meet with her again, in a less stressful setting?"

"...I already told her I'd talk to Devilla about all this," I said. "That includes whether we should take Nivera up on her offer. And no, you're not going to convince me to put in a good word for her."

"But you're not going to put in a bad word for her, either, are you?" Chloe asked with another grin. One that got wider when I failed to answer. "Alright! Here's my address! Let me know if you want to meet up with me - with or without Nivera - and I'll work to get everything set up! Or just start a rumor about how the Queen's personal maid is planning to go hang out with the hottest vixen in town - I basically run Nivera's information network, so it'll get to me one way or another!"

I blinked, too caught off guard by that last bit to say anything as Chloe reached into her blouse and pulled a folded piece of paper out from between her tits and shoved it into my hand.

"See you!" And with that she was gone. As in literally gone - like she'd teleported away. Or so I thought, until I followed Bailey's gaze to see a fox scampering its way towards the exit, tail wagging all the way.


Chloe! It's Chloe! I know that might not mean much to most of you, but you have no idea how long this girl has been sitting in my head, just waiting to being inflicted upon you all! I even have fanart from my lovely beta reader! Which I'll be posting at the bottom of this author's note, behind additional spoilers.

I don't really have a ton to say about this chapter, beyond that bit of gushing. I mean, there's my usual thanks to FallingLeaf for proofreading, and Lulla for beta reading, and... Mostly just more gushing? I do hope you enjoyed meeting Chloe as much as I loved writing her. Nivera is going to be a lot more tolerable in her presence, I promise.


Link to full version: Nivera-and-Chloe-take-2 hosted at ImgBB


Link to full version: Nivera-and-Chloe-take-2-less-saturated hosted at ImgBB
 
Back
Top