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Dark days had fallen over the Kingdom of Pryde. Ever since the princess had been kidnapped, stolen away by a menacing red dragon, the King and Queen had been beside themselves. To even more dismay, she'd been kidnapped the night before her wedding to Duke Seviathan Von Eldritch. They had been optimistic at first, damsels were kidnapped by dragons all the time and were easily felled by the right knight. They just needed to find him. Legions upon legions of men from across the lands had set out on the journey to the Red Dragon’s keep, determined to bring the princess home. Not a single one of them had returned. But months later, the dragon had been spotted again; this time flying overhead and dropping something from its claws. Several somethings, in fact. The torched shields emblazoned with the coats of arms of every single knight they'd sent. One of them with an arm still in its holster. Between the gasps of horror, cries of grief at the loss and catharsis of at least knowing for sure, the king had decided to do something. Even with all his powers he could not hope to stand up to something that ate his people like they were simple cattle, so he posed the challenge.
Whomever could slay the dragon and bring the princess home would be granted any boon they wished of him. It attracted dozens, but none successful. At last there came whispers that a danger of a far different kind loomed on the borders of their kingdom. The Red Knight; a ruthless warrior without a kingdom. Rumors abounded as to what had happened. That it had been destroyed on the day of his knighting from an unexpected invasion, that he had torched the land in a bid for power, that he was an envoy of evil, an omen of death. Whatever his story, there was yet no beast of myth that he had not defeated.
The day his arrival was announced King Lucifer tightened his grip on the apple shaped head of his scepter. Even just the air around the palace with his entry soured any potential affection for the one who had done the impossible numerous times before Lucifer might have fostered. But if the violent sociopath could bring his daughter home? He would put up with it. The gleaming red armor reflected the flickering lights of the sconces in the hall. Some said it had once been silver as all good armor should be, but that he had slain so many creatures the metal had been irreversibly stained red with their blood. A chilling reminder of his capabilities. In a scabbard at his back a gleaming onyx sword with an eye crafted of rubies and obsidian laying in its hilt. The guard a twisted gnarl of either antlers or branches; dangerous no matter what they were pantomiming. From the way the weapon caught the light, it almost appeared as if the eye in the weapon was looking around, sizing up the crowd and relaying the information to its master. The Red Knight stood there, refusing to bow or show deference in any manner. Not appropriate for his station or rank but if his legends were to be believed he had earned the right to a bit of arrogance. At least, that was how Lilith calmed her husband.
“Red Knight, praytell us your name,” Lilith requested, “So that we might know the identity of what I hope is our daughter’s rescuer.”
The knight removed his helmet to reveal a head of pin straight hair, blood red and tipped with black. What first appeared to be wayward tufts flicked back and forth and revealed themselves as ears. Ashen skin that spoke of a once healthier pallor, and golden teeth that glimmered in too wide of a smile. Small antlers protruded from top of his head, a wonder considering they would be trapped beneath his helmet. Most surprising of all though, was the single lens perched on his nose. Never before had either royal heard of a knight being visually impaired, let alone one as feared and infamous as this one.
“A name is a powerful thing your majesty,” he replied simply, an already strong voice practically booming against the throne room’s walls, “You may call me Alastor.”
Lucifer nearly launched himself from his throne; ablaze, horns angular and sharp, and his six wings whipping up a veritable maelstrom in the throne room,“How dare you insult my queen by telling her what she may or may not address you-”
“Sir Alastor,” Lilith stood, one hand pressed tight to her husband’s chest to keep him calm, “You have come to us to take up the challenge of rescuing our fair daughter?”
“Not just take it, defeat it,” the knight replied confidently, “I will return with Princess Charlotte, this I swear.”
Murmurs rippled through the assembled crowd. His confidence could easily be arrogance, as so many of the others before him had. But none of those other knights had the fearsome reputation such as this one. If anyone had the greatest chance of slaying the dragon, it would be this knight here. Though invited to dinner to prepare for the journey ahead Sir Alastor declined, wanting only the promise of whatever reward he desired documented and signed in blood before the court that should he succeed the King and Queen would not go back on their end of the bargain. It was suspect, and Lucifer nearly backed out just for being asked.
“He already knows such a bargain would be eternally binding!” Lucifer had argued, “I will not make a deal with the likes of him!”
“Is our daughter not worth any price?” Lilith had merely asked him in response, “Our only daughter?”
“Your majesties,” it was clear from the way he said it respect was intended for only one addressee, “I require only the assurance that you will keep your promise. I will even agree to your stipulations if it sets your minds at ease.”
“I will not wage war on any other kingdom on your behalf,” Lucifer narrowed his eyes at the knight, “Nor will you be able to usurp my position as king for your favor should you hypothetically succeed.”
“I ask for no such courtesies,” Alastor shook his head, “I ask for a favor which will harm no one nor put your power into question. All I need of you is your agreement to grant it when I return victorious.”
“You impertinent, upstart-”
Yet again Lilith interceeded, caring far more for the safe return of her child than appeasing her husband’s petty games. A bruised ego could easily be soothed, especially when one knew her beloved as she did him. So she reasoned with the king; reminding him that a knight of this caliber surely hadn’t earned such a reputation without merit, and that there were others far less honorable rulers that would try and break their oaths once the issue had been resolved. With a great deal of visible disapproval, the king agreed and the document was signed. Satisfied, the knight donned his helmet and with a flourish was out the door. The titters of the onlookers were a mix of gossip and wagers and pondering what sort of favor he might ask of the king when he returned. That final subject was the most tantalizing and dangerous of all.
And one such person well aware of that was a member of the King’s retinue. Lord Vox had made his own fortune, bringing enough status to the kingdom to be granted a title as befitting the lands he had amassed. But to secure his legacy he’d been slowly working his way into the king’s favor, hoping to dissuade the betrothal to the Von Eldtritches and make himself a far more appealing option. This knight, the Red Knight, was both an asset and a liability. If his reputation was to be believed, then he would surely succeed. But therein lay the liability. If he saved the princess then he would be the one to get the favor. And Vox was not about to let some titled prick with a fancy sword swoop in and steal the throne he had worked so hard to claw his way to. But it was alright, because he had a plan. All those lands he’d acquired had been handed over in shrewd business deals, but the gift of double talk wasn’t his only weapon. Unbeknownst to the King and Queen, this peasant sinner turned high ranking lord was also a powerful sorcerer. His specialty was in mind manipulation and hypnosis. With such powers he could convince anyone of anything. And that was exactly what he intended to do here. Chartering a horse he followed after the knight to the dragon’s lair, keeping careful distance so as to avoid suspicion. The plan was simple enough: let the Red Knight slaughter and fight his way through the keep, slay the dragon, and then Vox would kill him and take the princess for himself. Once he had made sure she was successfully “charmed” he would claim his spoils, return home and become crown prince. A flawless, foolproof plan if he did say so himself. Or rather, it would have been if the damn knight would cooperate.
Enough men had been sent forth that they had a map of where the lair was hidden. And the fastest route to get to it. Unfortunately, the pompous prick was taking his sweet time, choosing a meandering path that went through town after town, even though the knight himself always camped out in the woods. Well, at least Vox had the comfort of an inn and a weak willed towns person “convinced” to keep an eye on if he left. When he finally, finally reached the keep Vox kept back even further; not wanting to risk triggering a lingering trap. There had to have been a reason no would-be hero had returned, and he doubted most of them had gotten far enough to face the dragon themselves. Case in point, Vox stumbled past several skeletons with arrows embedded in their rib cages. Each and every trapped room was the same. Enemies the Red Knight slaughtered while Vox just trailed behind.
But there were some he missed, apparently. Like the little one eyed gremlin with an overly large sewing needle she wielded like a lance or sword. But the moment he'd attempted to hypnotize her into compliance she merely giggled,
“Oh, you're a bad boy,” somehow Vox got the feeling her being pleased by that was worse than when she'd actively been trying to kill him, “Well please, go on ahead. I can always punish you later.”
She hopped onto his shoulders, planted a disgustingly wet kiss on his cheek, and scampered off into the darkness before he could do anything else. Deep breaths, Vox told himself, it would all be worth it in the end. The crown would be atop his head, and he'd have a gorgeous concubine of a wife who would know exactly how to please him. And with his power, he could do anything to her and she’d only love him all the more for it.
The next time he nearly lost the knight’s trail was when he was stopped by what he could only describe as a sphinx. Except instead of a creature with the head of a beautiful woman this was more of an overly large cat with wings. One that was of extremely bad humor.
“In order to pass, you must answer my riddle. What runs but never walks, and bleeds but never lives?”
“Paint,”
The sphinx looked at him, enormously bushy brows furrowed. Then, he shrugged, “Eh, good enough.”
The large tail with feathers in a fan like arrangement lifted and revealed the doorway. Vox didn't dare question the decision and darted through before the creature could change its mind. When his ears could no longer detect the footsteps echoing in the further halls Husk scoffed,
“The boss should really learn not to play with his meals,”
A deranged giggle was his only response before Nifty dropped from the ceiling she’d been skittering along, having followed the wizard’s progress.
“I think it's funny, especially when you remember who this particular bad boy is.”
“What, is he that blue-haired bastard that attempted to beguile Boss into being his little pet? That weakling?” Husk scoffed again, reaching into a pile of treasure that made up the dragon’s hoard where he'd hidden a treasure of his own. An enchanted bottle of booze; big enough for him to hold and never empty out.
“Actually wait, I don't fucking care. But it does explain why we've all been told to let him pass,”
“You don't wanna see what happens when he finds out?” Nifty asked, “I bet it's gonna be good.”
“Not when I know exactly how it's gonna end,” Husk shuddered, “Remember what happened the last time you nearly got caught spyin’?”
Nifty scampered up the sphinx's fur and settled against the outer curve of one ear. She giggled again, “I didn't think even demon bodies could bend that way,”
HH
How many disgusting creatures was this stupid knight missing? Vox had long ago lost the trail and now had had to face a veritable gauntlet of terrors. After the sphinx had come a basilisk with an odd assortment of egg-like peons and an alarming number of eyes scattered across its serpent body. All of them scattered through a statuary garden made of unwilling subjects. Fortunately for Vox they were all easily distracted with a single toss of a stone.
Then there’d been an arachnotaur (some kind of half humanoid half spider monstrosity) that seemed far more interested in propositioning him than killing him. Too reminiscent of the earlier little gremlin, the effect was far more fear-inducing than it really should have been. Maybe it had been the fact that he'd gotten stuck in a wad of webbing and attempting to hypnotize the thing had made it laugh only to follow it up with another salacious comment. Then there'd been the echoing assurances that Vox would be back and the nobleman only wondered if all those skulls strewn about had been victims of a different type of hunger.
Next a harpy warrior with an enchanted spear and an extreme hatred for men who took extreme offense to his very presence. Vox only managed to get past her because her single eye made her depth perception incredibly poor, and now he'd just escaped a loud and destructive banshee of all things! Well, to his benefit one of her destructive blasts blew open a hole in the wall he escaped through. And lo and behold; he was now very clearly in the upper levels of the dragon’s keep. The massive size of the architecture was a clue. The other one was the perpetual smell of burning and sulfur. Carefully Vox crept through, uncomfortably aware of how open and exposed such areas were to someone of his statures even as magical as he was. Then, there came a great piercing roar that shook the very floors beneath him. No, surely that oafish… as quickly as he dared Vox tried to follow the sound that bounced off the spot covered walls. And there, in a vast treasure room seemingly crushed by the weight of its own hoard, lay the black and red claw of the dragon. Just a short distance further, in another corridor there was the knight. Sitting by a small fire, apparently taking a reprieve. The wizard nearly let out a sight of relief. At least it was something familiar. He'd long ago lost track of how many floors he'd run through attempting to escape the horrors within. Why on earth a dragon would need so many traps and minions was also a question worth pondering. But later, perhaps when he was having Princess Charlie show her “gratitude” to him for saving her. Ugh, focus, he could enjoy those sorts of musings later, once he'd assured himself of his victory. Right now he needed to deal with that knight.
Searching as quietly as he could Vox spotted a rusted mace lying in the skeletal grip of some poor fool. Looked too old to have been a rescuer of this princess, just how long had the dragon been doing this? Vox wanted to curse; if only he'd been able to put this beast under his control. The power he would wield. Welp, a dragon corpse would have to do. He would go back for it later, the scales would be useful for creating a more permanent effect of his abilities on his future bride. With a muttered spell to silence his footsteps Vox crept forward, noticing only at this distance how battered and torn up the warrior was. All the more reason to put him out of his misery. He swung the weapon as hard as he could, hearing it slam into the knight’s helmet with a satisfying clang, the spikes piercing skull with an even more satisfying crunch.
When what remained of the Red Knight slumped over Vox quickly looted the corpse, searching for anything useful or valuable. The sword appeared to have been lost in the battle, and all that he could find was an old and heavy key of blackened metal strung on a fraying leather cord around his neck. Useless. Vox shook his head and pressed forward. Surely with the dragon defeated the princess would be nearby. Another room or two of treasure and as luck would have it; the princess was there, draped in shimmering red fabric which complimented her fair skin and golden hair and locked within some sort of enchanted bubble. Suspended weightlessly no less. The jingle of coins beneath his feet signaled his approach. Charlie woke with a start and peered out at him. Her horns and tail present and still no threat, clearly if she’d been so easily captured. Still, when she recognized Vox she stretched and batted brilliant red eyes at him,
“Oh save me please,” she begged him, voice breathy and high pitched. Just as much a ditz as everyone took her to be. Her tail swished back and forth, drawing the man’s attention to the salacious scraps of fabric barely hiding such a tantalizing body from view.
“No worries my sweet. I-” quickly he scrambled for an appropriate, alliterative moniker, “Vox the Valiant Vanquisher, will free you!”
Charlie giggled like she had not a single thought in her head, “The cage is locked,” another charmed giggle while her cheeks pinked prettily, “With a key!”
Well, at least she was good at stating the obvious. She curved her supple body around like she was being held suspended in water. Vox took a moment to enjoy the show before he remembered what she had said.
“Ah, yes, and where is this key?”
She put a finger to her lips, distracting him with their fullness for a moment before the clicking of a black nail precluded her response, “The dragon keeps the key around his neck!”
Oh great, so now he would have to backtrack. Suppressing a groan of irritation Vox had just spun to retrieve the damn thing when he saw a dead man walking.
“You!” The lord hissed. No, no it couldn't be possible! He'd seen the way that helmet caved in from the force of his blow. No one could have survived it.
But there the Red Knight was, hale and whole. Helmet off and not a trickle of blood in sight. In fact, he seemed amused.
“Yes,” the knight, Alastor, Vox belatedly recalled the name, chuckled, “Me.”
“But how did you- you shouldn't have-” Vox shook his head, “No, it’s really no matter now. You have proven invaluable up until now. Unfortunately your use ends here.”
Had he any self-awareness or sense of danger he might have noticed the way the corners of the other man’s smile tightened, a single eye twitching as he listened to the insults. Alas, this was not the case.
“Return to the cesspits from whence you came,” Vox ordered, “Before I send you there myself.”
Rather than the cowing such a threat should have inspired, all Vox got was more laughter.
“How hilariously pathetic,” Alastor sneered, even though the smile never left his face, “But by all means; I'd love to see you try.”
Vox was about to respond with a retort of his own when he heard it. A metallic ringing that wasn't the armor plates colliding or the coins jingling beneath every step met Vox’s ears. And then he saw it, that ancient looking key strung round the other man’s neck.
Suddenly, Alastor’s smile looked slightly too wide, eyes too red, teeth too sharp. And… had his pupils always been that narrow? It sunk in far too late, this demon hadn't defeated the dragon; he was the dragon.
An oath left the wizard’s mouth as the false knight drew closer and closer, with each step becoming more and more draconic. At last the massive beast that he had once tried to tame stood before him, maw open to display every last one of its bloodstained teeth. A plume of smoke escaped the nostrils and Vox realized that he really should have stayed home.
HH
“So?” Charlie let out a far less air headed giggle once Alastor had returned, picking his teeth with his claws and flicking away something she didn’t want to think too hard about, “How was I?”
“Darling,” Alastor finished cleaning his hands with a handkerchief he pulled from nowhere and promptly set to ash once he was done with it, “You were exquisite. The perfect damsel in distress.”
Her pretty blush deepened and she started running her hands through her hair. Alastor’s grin widened, no matter how objectively beautiful she was she always flustered so easily when he complimented her. Before he did anything else he shifted the scale like armor he’d donned into something far more comfortable, at least as far as this more humanoid form was concerned. Then Alastor took the key from round his neck and unlocked the “cage” -more of a decorative holding place than anything- so the bubble like structure dissipated with a satisfying pop. She dropped to her feet and leapt into his waiting arms.
“My hero,” Charlie sighed, one last high pitched affectation before she began peppering his face with kisses. And she was sincere about it, he might not have been the most orthodox hero, but he was her savior. Far more than she ever could have possibly hoped for.
Alastor laughed, returning her affections with a rather chaste kiss against her lips.
“If you want to call me that then I’ll by no means argue,” He began striding past the mountainous piles of gold and coins and rare jewels without a second thought.
Despite the piles of wealth that surrounded them, the couple paid the treasure hoard no mind. No, there were far more pressing matters to attend to; such as the burning need to retreat to the master suite of their castle. When she’d originally come to him asking for his assistance in stopping her betrothal he’d never expected to fall for the princess -let alone as fast and as hard as he had. But how could one not love Charlie? It was practically unthinkable! She’d brought her dowry with her as payment, but the hoard was something he’d mostly amassed by accident; and therefore something he had no real use for. But there had been another currency he had been far more interested in. Hers. If he were to offer his assistance in breaking this political union he wanted her to be in his debt for the rest of her life. At the time, he’d thought he would find some use for a future queen involving land or tribute. Which one of them had initiated the original kiss was something he neither remembered nor considered terribly consequential when it came down to it. They’d kissed, they’d done more than kiss, and now with this final ruse they would be making an entirely different type of deal.
“And now to the victor,” Alastor nuzzled her beneath the curve of her jaw, “Might the lady offer a token of her affection?”
“I believe the phrase is, ‘to the victor, goes the spoils,’ Al,” Charlie giggled anyways, wriggling and purring at his attentions. Tail slowly wagging back and forth before wrapping around one of his legs and giving a delicious squeeze. That he refrained from simply pinning her to the wall and ravishing her where they stood was more a testament to his single-minded determination than any self-restraint.
Even so, he scoffed at the idiom, “How could I ever possibly denigrate you by equating you with spoils of war, my dearest?”
“My lord,” Charlie batted her lashes at him, “Are you perhaps trying to charm your way under my skirts?”
“When they are so sheer, I don’t believe there’s much I need to do to accomplish that,” Alastor growled at her; voice low and predatory like the clap of thunder just before a lightning strike.
Charlie squealed as he began kissing his way down her neck. A joyous sound that brought so much levity to his dark domain. It was incredible just how dark his castle had been looking back. But of course he could now only see it because Charlie was here to fill it with her light. They arrived at their chambers and he tossed her onto the bedding. She landed with a soft thump and even more laughter. Alastor crawled over her with a feral grin; eyes gleaming with lascivious intent.
“Why my dear princess,” he purred at her, carefully gathering her wrists into one hand, “It appears you have found yourself trapped yet again. Whatever shall you do now?”
“Oh no,” that vapid tone was back in her voice but her eyes were sparkling with mischief, “Save me! Won’t someone please save me!”
“Afraid not my darling,” Alastor let his body elongate just the slightest bit, “Your knights now fill the stomachs of my subjects. There is no one left to save you now.”
“No, there is one,” Charlie batted her lashes and trailed a hoof along his calf, “The Red Knight. He will save me.”
“Then I will eat him too,” Alastor promised through a growl, “No one will rescue you. You will forever be mine.”
Her breath hitched. It was something that had been hinted at through the parameters of their original deal, but never so explicitly verbalized before. Full black lips parted on a soft sigh and her eyes fluttered closed, any tension she’d ever held melting away. Alastor always thought she was beautiful, but here laying in repose with only his hungry gaze to consume her, she was entirely sublime. His blackened heart skipped a beat, such perfection and it was all his to savor. Not something taken or conquered, but given freely. Not out of fear, out of love. A force which struck like an arrow true, and all the power of the most intoxicating poison. If this was how he should meet his end he would do it gladly.
Alastor bent his head to drink from her mouth, but a hand at his chest stopped him about halfway. When had she- his attention was caught by a throaty chuckle. Her eyes were inverted; milky rings sitting inside a blood read sea. Horns like carmine coated columns of ivory protruded from her forehead. And that smile, oh her smile As dangerous and deadly as his own.
“My good lord,” she purred, and before he had realized what had happened he was on his back with her sitting astride, her demon’s tail swishing back and forth with barely concealed anticipation, “I do believe you requested a token of my affections.”
Alastor’s ears flicked back and forth. He knew that tone, it was the same one that had led to him allowing a basilisk, banshee, arachnotaur, and a harpy to live in his castle. The worst part of it was that he knew he wouldn’t even be capable of feigning irritation once she was done with him.
“Well,” her voice drew his attention and she was braced on a single hand, the other trailing teasing fingers down his chest, “I think that such a daring rescue deserves much more than a mere trifle of my gratitude. My brave draconic knight, allow me to show you exactly how thankful I am for your help.”
HH
The sound of hooves beating against the ground sounded like raucous thunder even from inside the castle walls. King Lucifer and Queen Lilith sat on their thrones as the lookouts had reported seeing the Red Knight on the horizon. And since he had returned it was all the confirmation needed to assume that he had rescued the fair princess Charlie. Shortly after being spotted the trumpeters announced their impending arrival. And then came the bursting through of the doors as their courtier finally said the words that Lucifer and Lilith had been longing to hear for months.
“The Red Knight has returned with Princess Charlotte in hand!”
Lucifer had practically jumped off his throne in his haste to catch sight of his daughter. Lilith had braced him with an arm and a murmur to wait. It had been months she’d been locked away, perhaps smothering the girl with affection was not the way to approach things. She was proven delightfully wrong when Charlie herself stopped only long enough to catch sight of her parents before rushing to hug them with reckless abandon. The happy family reunited, and the Red Knight waited patiently, allowing the princess this concession without interruption.
Lilith looked to the hero of their kingdom, tears in her eyes, “My good sir, how can we ever possibly repay you?”
“I have kept my word and brought the princess back as instructed,” Alastor replied, keeping his tone carefully neutral though the same could not be said for his expression, “To repay me in the simplest manner would be for your majesties to do likewise.”
“Oh, of course, of course,” Lilith quickly composed herself and had to physically pry her husband off their daughter with the reminder that as he had promised, Charlie had been returned to them. Which meant that they now needed to grant whatever boon he asked of them, “Brave knight; we too shall keep our promises. Name your prize and you shall have it.”
Alastor paused, eyes flicking back and forth between Charlie, her parents, and the assembled crowd, “For many years I have traveled these lands and slain many beats. The blood that coats my armor and my hands is as vast as the ocean. And it is said that my heart is as black as the new moon. However,” Charlie’s gaze was narrowed at him, admittedly she hadn’t anticipated him being so… eloquent with his request, “And yet, the princess’ kind heart has touched even such a tainted soul as mine. It would be my honor to guard her for the rest of our unending days, that is what I ask of you.”
A hush fell over the chamber. Lucifer unhappy having his hand forced but always looking to twist things to his advantage, spoke first, “You wish to act as my daughter’s personal knight? Consider it done,”
However, Lilith, the more prudent of the two, spoke in turn, “My love you know that is not what he asks. Good sir knight, speak plainly so that no one might mistake you.”
“I wish for the hand of Princess Charlotte Morningstar,” Alastor spoke, his voice radiating with the confidence of a man certain he would get his way, “That is the boon I ask.”
Charlie felt her father’s fingers dig into her arms, hard enough to draw blood if she wasn't made of the same stuff as him. She knew he was just being protective of her, but that was sort of how they'd gotten into this mess in the first place. But, having been the one to come up with this plan in the first place, Charlie knew her father was bound by his oath.
“The engagement will be long,” Lucifer still tried to dissuade him anyways, “A royal wedding is quite an event to prepare for.”
“I can wait,”
“Do you not have a liege or a lord you must return to?” Lucifer prodded harder, “Surely a knight of your commendable… talents must be handsomely rewarded by a patron.”
Alastor’s smile widened, “I have enough land and money of my own. I am beholden to no one I do not choose to be. But I assure you; your daughter will be well provided for, and your domains will be expanded twice over.”
“Take the deal!” one of the higher ranking members of the court, Lord Mammon, exclaimed, “Wealth and land? What could be better?”
Lucifer shot daggers at the man, but someone else chimed in,
“Much as I loathe to disagree with Lord Mammon,” Lady Bee primly laced both sets of arms, “But he’s got a point,”
“The knight holds a bloody reputation.” Lord Satan added, “Covered with blood and the fuel of wrath. He is an excellent partner for the princess.”
“Besides,” Lord Asmodeus finished, “It’s clear these two are already… intertwined,”
The smirk on his face said he had an inkling or two about exactly how accurate his statement was but he wisely ended his sentence there.
Lucifer gaped, every single one of his most trusted courtiers was turning on him and advocating for him to marry his sweet little Char-char off to this brute! Even Lilith was giving him a reprimanding stare, the twitch of her lips telling him that if he didn’t comply his chambers would be cold for the foreseeable future. So, he relented.
“Fine,” Lucifer let out a sigh, “You have named your boon and I shall grant it so long as Charlie herself is amenable,”
He was holding out hope that despite the rescue she wouldn’t want to be tied down so quickly, especially not given her resistance to her original marriage. But luck was not on his side as Charlie gave a shy smile and batted her lashes at her rescuer. The princess gazed at her draconic paramour and nearly forgot herself when she saw the ill-concealed desire in his eyes. Lips parted, breath caught in her throat, heart pounding as she felt her tail slip out beneath the layers of her dress and wind around one of her legs as want washed over her like a wave and threatened to drag her under. The intrusive stares of the crowd around them might not have even been there for all it mattered to the pair. This was where she was supposed to shy and make things seem prim and proper, like she wasn’t already champing at the bit to make this man hers even more than he already was. At last, she remembered herself, remembered that they were expecting an answer from her. When she spoke, she did so quietly, but it echoed in the room with the solemnity of a vesper bell,
“I would be honored, my lord,”