To Bewitch a Devil

190 She’s not coming back

“At least you treat me like a guest, Zavian on the other hand, I can’t blame him. My hands were too full to teach him any manners.” Lydia brought the teacup to her mouth and smacked her lips in satisfaction. “Great flavor.”

She looked up at Freya and gave her another one of her sickening smiles.

“I cannot stop what is to come to pass, Freya.”

Freya’s brows creased. “What do you mean?”

“It means...” Lydia leaned closer. “Zavian has already set the ball in motion long ago. What has happened, or what is happening started from his very own hands.”

Freya searched her eyes for the taunt. “You are lying.”

“Or maybe it is just hard for you to accept the truth,” Lydia sat back and took another sip of her tea. “And where is that brother of yours?”

“That’s none of your concern.”

“You are right”, Lydia nodded. She set the teacup down and stood, standing at the same height as her daughter. “Just tell him his lover isn’t coming back.”

.....

Freya stepped back, staggering in her steps. Lydia smiled, and before Freya could recover from that, she had already walked out of the drawing room.

Freya hurried after her as she walked to her carriage.

“What do you know?” She asked her mother.

Lydia stepped up into the carriage. She looked at Freya through the window, another cryptic smile.

“I told you dear, time will tell.”

And with that, the carriage rode away through the gates. Freya could do nothing but stare on, wondering, just how much in the dark she was.

….

Unlike demons, humans were not equipped with the ability to go on long periods of days without the essentials of surviving. Garden crops would still need to grow to produce new ones after they are plucked, goods still needed to be sold, and children got cranky from not having enough space to play in.

And so they came out, first in hurried steps and only out of necessity, doing well to look over their shoulders. And so, when they returned home, safe and sound, more got bolder, and more streamed out of their houses. Later, they would talk about this strange incident, clustered in groups, and blame the mishap on the demons; everything terrible was always dumped on those otherworldly creatures.

Some still went to the castle for matters of justice. There, in the throne room, as a fisherman complained about the lack of variety of fishes that existed now, Jasmine rested a hand on her fist, half listening, and half bored to death.

Zavian hadn’t left Neera’s chambers, and everything she thought would happen—Zavian seeking comfort in her—vanished as if waking up from a fantasy.

He wouldn’t even see her, let alone let her in Neera’s chambers. Jasmine didn’t even want to go in, humans reeked of rot the minute their soul leaves their bodies, and Neera’s would definitely be decomposing and permeating the walls of that chamber.

One wasted space that might never be used again. Tsk Tsk. Why was it so close to their bedroom? Now the thought of her decomposing in that room would forever be engraved in her mind.

“Your Majesty”, someone called her attention. She sat up and looked at the fisherman. He was young, fine, and sturdy.

“Sorry, what was the last thing you said again?”

“I think the sea vermin has something to do with this.”

Jasmine leaned her body forward, a frown etched on her forehead. “Sea vermin, you say?”

“Yes, your Majesty.”

“And how exactly would a sea vermin pick only a select group of fishes and leave others?”

“Just like how we can be selective with our meals, your Majesty,” the man said. “It comes at night, and eats every other fish, leaving only catfishes for me to catch.”

“Okay”, Jasmine sat back. “But why catfish?”

“Because the sea vermin is superficial,” the fisherman answered in a heartbeat. “It loves colorful fishes, slim fishes, dainty little fishes. Catfishes are a sore sight for it.”

Jasmine waited, waited for him to laugh at the joke. Maybe he wanted to be the castle’s jester, entertaining royal guests with laughs when there are parties because he would make a good one.

Jasmine could hear the snickers rolling off from the guards, the barely suppressed laughter they held back. The fisherman, looking offended, shot one of the guards a glare.

So he was actually being serious.

Jasmine wondered if all the time he spent around fishes gave him the brain size of one.

“Let me ask you, have you seen this sea vermin?” She asked.

The fisherman’s face turned bright red. “No, but… but I know he’s in there. My Ma told me it is always in there. Please, have it killed your Majesty.”

Going back and forth would be useless, so Jasmine gave a nod of agreement.

“Sure, I would have the guards check the river, and they’d kill this superficial monster.”

The fisherman, satisfied, gave an appreciative bow and was guided out. Jasmine raised her finger as the guard left the doors open after the fisherman.

“Please no more,” she let out a tired sigh. “I could use a break.”

And by a break, she meant checking up on Zavian again.

She was surprised when she saw the doors to his study wide open, and in there, there was another voice, the Commander General. She slowed in her steps, but the voices weren’t clear enough to grab the words they were saying.

Seeing as she could not catch a bit of their conversation, Jasmine stepped into the room. Both demons fell silent upon her entrance. Zavian looked worn out, Azriel looked wound up, his body tensed.

“Is everything okay?” Jasmine asked.

Azriel looked to the King. She didn’t miss the narrowing of his eyes.

“Everything is fine,” Azriel said in a clipped voice. “I will leave you with the King, your Majesty.”

He gave her a quick bow and exited the room, closing the door behind him. Jasmine watched Zavian, shoulders slumped as he gripped the edge of the table.

“You are supposed to see to the affairs of the Kingdom in the throne room,” Zavian’s voice still had that roughness to it, as if parched. “So, what are you doing here?”