Chapter 5: Demons always good at reasoning
"Why don't you become my bride as the price?"
I blinked, repeatedly. Was I so drunk, that I started hearing ridiculous things?
"...come again?"
"Become my bride," the voice was unwavering, with a smile that truly felt like it belonged to a demon.
"...a what now?"
Patiently, he answered with amusement. "My bride."
"...yes?"
"Alright, you said yes, so the deal is sealed," he clapped his hand once, in a loud sound that almost sobered me up. While I was still in a shocked daze, he stood up from the table he'd been sitting at, walking towards a table with an assortment of wines.
"Hu...huh? No, wait! Waitwaitwait!" I stood up and clambered at him in panic. "That wasn't—I didn't..."
He stopped walking and stared at me—at my hands that clutched into his stupidly well-made suit. That stare rendered me speechless, and all the protesting thoughts died down in my dull mind. "...why?" All I could say was a shaky question.
"Why not?" his reply came in an easy, casual tone, as if deciding to take me as his bride was as easy as deciding which wine he would drink from that assortment on the table.
Perhaps it was indeed easy. A demon lord...probably had more than one spouse, right? Maybe even a whole castle full of concubines, like the kings and nobles in those historical stories. After all, he was the Demon Lord of Avarice. He probably collected wives, too, like one per race or something.
But even so...
"My Lord, you know I'm a priest, right?" I looked up at him, the damn tall demon. Maybe he was the drunk one...
"What's that got to do with anything?" he sat at the wine table now, making our faces meet at the same height. He tilted his head, observing me with an amused smile.
Damn demon having fun at this.
"It's got to do with everything—"
Suddenly, my chin was grasped, prompting me to stop and just stared at him. He looked straight into my eyes, and spoke in a firm tone; "You were the one who said you'll do anything, mister 'priest', so what is this behavior?"
This is the behavior of someone who received a sudden, out-of-nowhere, outrageous proposal. I wanted to be firm and subtle and dodged this in a more sophisticated manner, but I pursed my lips and whined instead.
I swear I would not drink alcohol again.
"Can I at least have some time to think about it?" I grasped his hand that was on my face, staring at him with a gaze I used to beg the nurse to let me eat junk food just once.
His eyes looked down, at my fingers that were touching his hands. I probably shouldn't brazenly touch him, right? But I did anyway, my frenzy mind just wanted to retract the thing I said about doing 'anything'. Thankfully, he didn't fling me across the room for this transgression.
"What's there to think about?" his eyes gazed lower, as if scrutinizing me from head to toe. "Do you have any other kind of payment other than yourself?"
Ouch, way to call me broke, dude.
Sadly, no, I did not have anything. Maybe if I have some kind of knowledge of the future...
I did have some, including the fact that the hero might come for him one day. But I wasn't so sure about any of the ideas and prompts; which one would be included and which one wouldn't. And I was still in the middle of recalling them one by one, since all those ideas were made in conversations—I just listened to her talking about it out of my own boredom.
So, no, unfortunately, the power of the future wasn't in my hand.
But even if I had to sell myself, that shouldn't mean as a...bride, right? "I can work with you, I can be your servant," I replied enthusiastically. "If my power is back, you can use it however you want."
The Demon Lord, however, wasn't really amused. "That would naturally happen if you're my bride too, though?"
Wow, look at that, he was right. 'Think Val, think!'
I had never felt that I was on the clever side, but that night I felt particularly stupid.
He let go of my chin, and I let go of his hand. But he grasped my wrist in place, which I couldn't muster enough brain cells to yank off, just busy looking for an excuse.
"But..." I looked at him with what I thought was a subservient gaze, "wouldn't it benefit your prestige more if I'm just your lowly servant?"
The Demon Lord Natha narrowed his eyes, the silver iris rippled in coldness. "You think I need more prestige?"
Uh-oh. "No!" I shook my head urgently. "But..."
"Sure, I can turn you into my servant," he cut me because I could come up with some glib to defend myself. The hold on my wrist tightened slightly, and I couldn't help but winced. His low voice pierced my sense with the pressure that made me stand frozen before his figure. "But I'm being magnanimous here, making you my bride so you'll become the one who got served instead,"
I sensed dread. Not anger, but something like a warning. Although it could also be my misperception and poor case of judgment.
"Since you're such an important figure here," he continued, and logic started to fly into my muddled head. The grip on my wrist seemed to wake me up a little bit.
It also helped that Natha so kindly explain it to me.
"Or do you think you can survive in the demon's territory as a mere servant?" he tilted his head, peering at me sharply. "The demon's slaughterer?"
Oh...
Right. I was an enemy with such a bad moniker. Even if I turned to the demon's side, it didn't change the fact that Valmeier had killed a lot of their kin, even if they served a different Lord. What would they think, if a person who was coined as their kin's murderer walked among themselves?
And there was no guarantee that this body could regain its former strength even after using the cure-all elixir.
With that condition, I might as well meet my end the very moment I stepped out of this room.
No—I might even die this very moment, if I aggravated this Demon Lord in front of me.
"You think they won't try to tear you apart if you have no status here?" he spelled out the things that had been swirling in my mind, capturing me in that quagmire-like silver eyes.
He pulled on my wrist, and had me stumbled forward, just like when he shuffled me away from the palace's balcony. Like a prisoner trapped inside his mesmerizing moonlight of eyes, I could only stand frozen, pliantly being moved, as his voice continued in my ears. "I showed you my kindness and consideration, yet you vehemently shoved it away?"
Ah. It wasn't an anger that he spoke with, it was dejection.
"Your answer?"
"...Yes," what else could I say at this point? I couldn't think far about the consequences of my answer would be, but I just wanted to live for now.
You couldn't rebel if you're dead, anyway.
"I didn't hear it quite clearly enough," he pulled me again, and I had to brace myself by clutching onto his broad chest. Darnit!
"Yes!" I hissed my answer, a little bit louder.
"Good," finally, he let go of my wrist with a smile, and I used it to wobble backward for a bit, just so I didn't have to look closely at that face and eyes. But his fingers moved to my face, and I shuddered from the cool feeling of his skin on my cheek. "It'll be a waste if I lose you right after I fix you, right?"
Haa...damn demon. So what if you look like the man of my dream?
I glared at him with cold contempt, even as his fingers caressed my cheek. There was a playful smile on his face that made me think everything up to this point was just his cunning ploy. My glare narrowed, as I looked at him with suspicion.
"For such a good boy, I'll give you a welcoming gift," he retreated his fingers, and I scooted back again before he could touch me more.
Good boy my ass! I'm already well over twenty he—
And then my eyes, which had been following his hand's movement—saw the Demon Lord opening up his hand. A small fissure appeared on top of his palm, like a small, swirling portal. The portal glowed then, in a blinding golden light, and I had to close my eyes for a while.
When the light receded, and I opened my eyes, what greeted me was the view of the most beautiful, intrinsic small bottle filled with a golden liquid. There was a mesmerizing sheen on it, and the bottle was surrounded by a shimmering light, as if there was a special effect being played in my eyes.
Or probably I was just drunk.
Either way, there was only one thing I could infer from this showy appearance.
"Is that..." I felt my voice catch up in my throat, my fingers wiggling in an itch to just snatch the small bottle away.
The smile on Natha's face was almost as blinding as the magical effect on the bottle. "The one you've been looking for..."
I had to clench my fingers, lest I'd end up throwing myself at the bottle—at him. Gulping silently, I looked at it with unblinking eyes.
"The cure-all elixir,"
Amrita.