The next morning, the leaden light of the Demon Realm filtered through the high windows, casting long, gray shadows across our shared quarters. I sat up, rubbing my eyes and expecting to see Lyra’s blue hair a mess on the pillow across from me, but her bed was perfectly made and empty.

  "She’s already up!?" I whispered, my heart sinking. I must have overslept. "I’m late for cleaning! Lyra is going to tease me for a month if she finishes the east wing before I even get my shoes on!"

  I scrambled out of bed, fumbling with my maid uniform. My fingers felt like clumsy sausages as I tried to button the crisp white apron. In my rush to catch up, I tripped over my own feet, sent a vase of star weed water tumbling, and performed a frantic, ungraceful jig to catch it before it shattered. I managed to save the vase but ended up with a wet hem and a lopsided bow.

  "Focus, Akari! No, Akari Vespera! You are a professional now!" I scolded myself, rushing out the door.

  I sprinted toward the specialized supply room. I hadn't been there alone yet, but I knew the general direction. When I finally threw the heavy doors open, I stopped dead. It wasn't a closet, it was an armory of hygiene. Hundreds of mops were lined up like spears on the wall, and buckets of various enchanted metals sat like helmets on silver racks. There were jars of Aura Eating Scouring Powder and Anti Gravity Wax that looked more like experimental grenades than cleaning supplies.

  I lunged for a long handled brush and a bucket of lemon scented soap, ready to sprint toward the hallways, but a tall, stiff figure blocked the exit.

  It was the Head Butler. He stood with his back perfectly straight, his monocle glinting in the magical blue torchlight. Before I could say a word, he stepped closer, his eyes narrowing as he began to circle me. He leaned in, peering at my shoulders and then my arms, his gaze so clinical it felt like I was back in the hospital being poked by a specialist.

  "Um... hello?" I squeaked, feeling incredibly awkward as he leaned down to inspect the hem of my dress. I pulled my mop closer like a shield. "Is there something on my face?"

  "Hmph," he hummed, finally standing straight and adjusting his white gloves. "Tell me, child, did Lyra happen to make you perform magic during your training yesterday?"

  I blinked, surprised by the question. "Yes? We did a lot of it. I turned a pile of mud into lemon bubbles! Why do you ask?"

  The Butler let out a long, weary sigh, pinching the bridge of his nose. "Of course she did. That girl has the patience of a caffeinated squirrel. She should have first given you a beginner lesson on mana circulation before jumping into active spells, and then taught you the formation of magical circles to control the output."

  I tilted my head, confused. "But... why? I mean, I was able to do the magic just fine without all that boring circle stuff. It just kind of... happened."

  Valerius stepped forward, his expression turning stern yet strangely paternal. "It happened because you have raw power, but you are currently hurting the mana flow within your own body. I can sense your internal energy is strained and frayed after yesterday's exertion." He gestured to my chest. "What you are doing right now is like a beginner weight lifter walking into a gym and trying to hoist a hundred kilograms on their first day. You might lift it, but you are tearing your muscles to shreds in the process. I shall have a very long, very stern chat with Lyra about the proper order of operations."

  "Sir! I... I thought Lyra was already cleaning and I didn't want to be useless!" I stammered, clutching my mop like a weapon.

  "Lyra is currently off duty, as per Master’s orders," he replied, his expression shifting to one of mild relief. "But you, child, have exactly one minute to be at the front gate. Master Malphas does not enjoy the scent of tardiness."

  My jaw dropped. "The front gate!? But that’s a mile from here! It takes an hour to run through the lower barracks and the inner courtyards! I’ll never make it!"

  The Butler adjusted his white gloves. "I shall not tell the Master of this lapse, though I suspect he already knows. He is, after all, quite perceptive of your unique energy. Come, I shall provide a shortcut. Ladies first, naturally."

  He snapped his fingers with a sharp crack. A swirling, misty cloud of silver grey smoke erupted from the floor, spinning into a vertical portal.

  "Step through that," he commanded, gesturing with a polite bow. "You will arrive at the gate instantly. I shall follow behind."

  I hesitated for a second, then squeezed my eyes shut and jumped.

  ─── ??☆?? ───

  The transition was like being dunked in cold water. One second I was in a room smelling of lemon wax, the next I was standing on the hard, rain slicked stone of the main castle entrance. The massive black gates loomed over me.

  Standing there, looking bored as he leaned against a stone pillar, was Malphas. He looked at me, then at the mop I was still clutching with a death grip.

  "You plan to clean the border, Vespera?" he asked, a hint of mockery in his voice.

  "I... I forgot!" I squeaked, hiding the mop behind my back as the silver cloud manifested again.

  The Head Butler stepped out, the cloud dissipating into nothingness as he straightened his suit. He looked at my cleaning supplies and raised a perfectly groomed eyebrow. "Tell me, child, do you intend to polish the dirt road as we walk? Or perhaps you plan to mop the forest floor? While I admire the dedication to your craft, it might be a tad impractical for a cross border investigation."

  "So, you have already met Valerius," Malphas noted, his red eyes shifting toward the older man.

  "Yeah... and no," I answered honestly, still feeling a bit dizzy from the teleportation.

  "We only talked for a few seconds, not really a proper greeting yet, My Lord," Valerius added, offering a small nod of his head.

  Malphas straightened his posture, his dark cloak swirling around his boots. "Well, you two are the only ones coming with me on this trip into Kaelen's territory. You two need to know each other. As you know, Akari, this is Valerius. He is not only the Head Butler but also the longest worker in this castle and probably the oldest. He is also probably the oldest thing I have that resembles a friend."

  Valerius looked slightly moved by the sentiment, though he quickly masked it with a professional cough. "A friendship forged in the fires of Master's terrible temper, but a friendship nonetheless."

  "Enough talk," Malphas interrupted. "First, we need to blend in. A Demon Lord and his personal staff traveling openly is an invitation for an ambush we don't have time for."

  He closed his eyes. In a pulse of dark light, his appearance shifted. His high collared black coat became a simple, rugged traveler's tunic and trousers. His face softened, looking less like a god of death and more like a handsome, albeit stern, merchant.

  I felt a tingle across my own body. I looked down and gasped. My maid uniform and the mop were gone. In its place was a beautiful light pink dress. It was clearly old, the hem had been carefully mended and the fabric was a bit thin, but it was the prettiest thing I had ever worn. It hugged my figure comfortably, making me feel less like a servant and more like a person.

  Valerius now wore the attire of a seasoned caravan guard, his stiff butler's demeanor replaced by a quiet, lethal readiness.

  "Hold on," Malphas commanded.

  Before I could even take a breath, the world blurred. The castle vanished.

  A split second later, we were standing a few miles away from a massive stone archway. Beyond it lay a city so vibrant it made my head spin. The buildings were tall, carved from white and gold stone, and the sound of the market, shouting, laughter, and music, reached us even from this distance. It looked like a paradise.

  "Don't get caught," Malphas warned, his voice low. "A Demon Lord and his servants are forbidden to enter another Lord's territory without a formal summit. One screw up, and there is war."

  "Master, what exactly is going on?" I asked, looking at the bustling gate. "Why are we here?"

  Valerius stepped forward to explain. "Whoever caused the Chimera attack the other night was traced to someone currently inside that town. It wasn't just a random monster raid."

  "Wait, so those beasts were controlled!?" I whispered.

  "Just this morning, we received word that Malphas was not the only target," Valerius continued grimly. "Other Demon Lords' castles were attacked simultaneously. Whoever is behind this clearly wants the Lords dead, or at least wants to weaken the armies. It is a plan that is as stupid as it is ambitious."

  Malphas looked toward the gate, his fake merchant's face hiding a cold, calculating fury. "And we are going to find out who thinks they are clever enough to disturb my tea time."

  We began to walk toward the gate. As we reached the guards, Malphas offered a charming, fake smile and a handful of copper coins. The guards waved us through, oblivious to the fact that one of the most dangerous men in the realm had just walked past them.

  As we stepped deeper into the bustling town, the sensory overload hit me like a physical wave. The streets were paved with shimmering cobbles that seemed to hold the warmth of the sun. Unlike the gray, somber atmosphere of our castle, this place was an explosion of life. I saw a group of children with tiny, translucent wings playing a game of tag that involved floating three feet off the ground.

  "Look at them!" I whispered, tugging on the sleeve of Malphas’s tunic. "They’re actually flying!"

  You could be reading stolen content. Head to Royal Road for the genuine story.

  "Focus, Vespera," Malphas muttered, though he didn't pull his arm away. "They are just children. Do not make it obvious you have never seen a common pixie demon before."

  We passed a street performer who was breathing fire that turned into the shapes of galloping horses. I stopped, my mouth hanging open in genuine wonder. I had spent my life staring at beeping monitors and white hospital walls, this was like a dream I never wanted to wake up from.

  "It’s beautiful, isn't it?" a voice said beside me. Valerius had stepped up, his grandfather persona fitting him like a second skin. "In this realm, magic is used for more than just war and cleaning, Akari. It is the lifeblood of our culture."

  Malphas leaned down, his breath warm against my ear as he dropped his voice to a dangerous whisper.

  "Listen closely," he murmured, his gaze fixed straight ahead. "To anyone watching, Valerius is your grandfather, and you are my girlfriend. Play the part perfectly, or we risk everything."

  My face ignited, the heat spreading rapidly from my neck to my ears. A girlfriend? I had spent sixteen years in a hospital bed, I barely knew how to be a person, let alone a romantic partner. Just as a squad of armored guards marched past us, their greaves clanking against the cobblestones, Malphas suddenly reached down and laced his fingers firmly with mine.

  His hand was large and cool, and the sudden contact made me stumble over a loose stone. I let out a tiny, embarrassed squeak, clutching his hand tighter than I probably should have as I tried to look like a girl deeply in love and not a maid having a total internal meltdown.

  "You’re squeezing quite hard," Malphas noted softly, a hint of amusement in his tone. "Is the prospect of being my partner so terrifying?"

  "I... I'm just getting into character!" I hissed back, though my heart was beating so hard I was sure he could feel it through my palm.

  Valerius gestured toward a looming, jagged structure in the distance. "That high building over there, the one with the cracked spire," he said, his voice now sounding like a kindly old man's. "That is where we tracked the residual source of the magic that sent the Chimeras to our gates."

  As we walked, we passed a flower stall. The blooms were huge, pulsing with soft bioluminescent light. Malphas stopped for a moment, surprising both of us. He reached out and plucked a small, glowing blue flower, tucking it behind my ear with a practiced ease that made my knees go weak.

  "There," he said, his eyes meeting mine for a lingering second. "A gift for my lovely lady. It helps the disguise."

  I couldn't even find words. I just nodded like a broken toy. We finally reached the building. Up close, it was a hollow shell, draped in thick, creeping vines that grew through the windows as if reclaiming the stone for the earth. When the street was momentarily clear, we slipped inside through a gap where a door used to be.

  The moment we entered, Valerius raised a hand and cast a silent spell that muffled our footsteps, turning the world into a tomb of silence. We climbed a set of crumbling stone stairs, following the faint, acrid scent of woodsmoke.

  In a small room at the top, a campfire flickered low, and a man in tattered, filthy clothes lay curled up next to the embers. Valerius pulled a long, ornate wooden cane out of thin air and poked the man’s shoulder. The man didn't move. He didn't even breathe.

  Malphas stepped forward, his eyes shifting into those terrifying, spinning patterns. Valerius noticed the shift and pressed the tip of his cane into the fire. The flames didn't hiss, they vanished instantly, revealing that the warmth and light were merely an illusion. The man was cold, his skin the color of ash. He was dead.

  "A waste," Malphas muttered. He reached out, and a surge of dark, golden energy flowed from his fingertips into the corpse.

  The man’s body jerked. He let out a ragged, wet gasp, his eyes snapping open with a look of agony so deep it made me wince. He scrambled backward, clawing at the dusty floorboards. "My family!" he shrieked, his voice cracking with raw grief. "Are they okay? Did he let them go? Please, I did what he asked!"

  The man began to sob, his entire frame shaking as he tried to find air for lungs that hadn't breathed in days. He looked at us with wild, desperate eyes, clearly terrified.

  Valerius stepped forward, his stiff posture softening into something incredibly gentle. He knelt in the dust and placed a steady hand on the man's trembling shoulder. "Peace, friend," Valerius said, his voice a soothing rumble. "You are safe now. Take a breath. Tell us what happened, and perhaps we can find the justice you seek."

  The man leaned into Valerius's touch, his sobs quieting into jagged breaths. Through tears, he explained that he was a man who had been cast out by his family and lived in the ruins. One day, a stranger had arrived and threatened to slaughter his entire kin unless the man sacrificed his own soul to anchor a massive summoning circle, the spell used to launch the Chimera attack.

  Valerius produced a sheet of magical parchment and began to draw out the man's memories. An image began to form of a tall figure in a heavy cloak, but when it came to the face, the ink simply swirled into a void.

  "I can't... I can't remember his face," the man whimpered, his voice fading as the borrowed energy began to flicker. "It’s dark... it’s all so dark."

  Malphas sighed, a sound of cold finality. "You have told us all you know."

  He snapped his fingers. The light immediately left the man’s eyes, and he slumped back into the dust, dead once more. I gasped, clutching my chest.

  "Why... why did you do that?" I whispered. "He was finally awake..."

  "It is not proper to ignore death," Malphas said, looking down at the body with no remorse. "He was borrowed time, and I have simply returned him to his rest. To keep him here would be a cruelty, Vespera. Besides, we wouldn't want a visit from Death, nor the man with the scythe, for keeping what is rightfully theirs."

  As we walked back out of the building, the bright, joyous noise of the town felt jarring against the cold death we had just left behind. Malphas tucked the parchment into his tunic.

  "One screw up," he reminded us, his voice sharp, "and there is war. Now, let us see if the neighbors have better memories than a corpse."

  We spent the next hour moving through the marketplace. Malphas kept a firm grip on my hand, and occasionally he would point out a piece of jewelry or a strange fruit, asking for my opinion just to keep up the act. We stopped at a merchant selling skewers of glowing green fruit.

  "Try one, dear," Valerius suggested, playing the doting grandfather. "They are quite rare in the north."

  The merchant grinned, showing a row of sharpened teeth. "Rare indeed! Harvested from the weeping glades. Only three coppers!"

  Malphas paid without a word, handing me the skewer. The fruit tasted like a mix of lime and honey, exploding with a cool sweetness. While I ate, Malphas showed the merchant the parchment.

  "I don’t recognize the shadow," the merchant grunted, "but if he passed through here, the Mayor would know. That man is a paranoid hawk. He keeps track of every new face and tourist that passes the gates. The guards give him a full report every sundown."

  "And where is this Mayor now?" Malphas asked.

  "Likely at The Rusty Horn down the street. Look for a man in a bright blue button down shirt. You can't miss him, he’s the only one drinking top shelf ale at midday."

  We headed toward the establishment, a rowdy, dim lit tavern. The air was thick with the smell of fermented grain and the rowdy laughter of demons. We spotted the man in the blue shirt sitting at a corner table.

  Malphas led me over, sliding into the seat next to the Mayor while I sat tucked awkwardly between them. Valerius stood behind us like a loyal guardian.

  "Excuse me, sir," Malphas said, his tone deceptively friendly. He slid the parchment onto the table. "Have you seen this man?"

  I looked down and gasped. The paper had changed. It wasn't just a sketch anymore, it was a high quality bounty poster with official looking seals and a massive reward amount listed at the bottom.

  "Wait, why did it change?" I whispered frantically to Valerius.

  "It is better than showing a simple drawing," the Butler murmured back. "If we look like bounty hunters, we have a reason to ask questions. It is about the aesthetic of the lie, Akari."

  The Mayor picked up the poster, whistling through his teeth. "A bounty hunter, eh? Undercover? Well, we’re actually the opposite," I thought, my heart racing.

  "We need your help," Malphas said, leaning in. "He’s a dangerous one."

  "Yeah, I remember him," the Mayor nodded. "Came through the South Gate on a black horse about three nights ago. Stayed quiet, paid in old coins."

  "And his face?" Malphas pressed. "Can you describe it?"

  "Sure, he had... he was..." The Mayor paused. He blinked, his brow furrowing. "That’s strange. I remember looking him right in the eye when I signed his pass, but... I can't see it. It’s like my brain is trying to look at the sun. I know I saw him, but the memory is just... gone."

  Malphas’s expression darkened. This was powerful magic, a memory seal. He slid a heavy gold coin across the table, the metal thudding softly. "Eat and drink well, Mayor. Thank you for your time."

  We moved to a secluded booth in the back of the tavern. "Stay here," Valerius said. "I shall go to the counter to order us some sustenance. We must look like we belong here."

  As the Butler walked away, the silence between Malphas and me became deafening. The tavern was loud, but all I could hear was the blood rushing in my ears. Malphas hadn't let go of my hand yet.

  "You're shaking, Vespera," he said, his voice dropping that merchant lilt and returning to its usual cold, velvet tone.

  "I-I'm not! It’s just... the girlfriend thing," I stammered. "Don't you think you're holding on a bit too tight? People might think we're... you know... actually together."

  Malphas looked at our hands, then slowly looked up at me. His red eyes seemed to glow in the dim tavern light. Instead of letting go, he leaned closer, his shoulder pressing against mine.

  "The goal is to be convincing," he said, a small, dangerous smirk playing on his lips. "Unless, of course, the clumsy maid finds the touch of a Demon Lord too much to handle? You were much bolder when you were demanding noodles in my kitchen."

  I turned bright red. "I wasn't demanding! I was... suggesting! And this is different! In the kitchen, I'm a worker. Here, I'm... I'm..."

  "You're mine," he finished, and though I knew he meant it in the sense of a master and servant, the way he said it in this crowded room made my heart do a gymnastics routine. "Now, look at me and smile. A girlfriend doesn't look like she's waiting for an execution."

  I tried to force a smile. Malphas let go of my hand, but before I could feel the sudden chill, he slid his arm around me, resting his hand firmly on my shoulder. It wasn't the heavy, crushing grip of a captor, it was surprisingly gentle. A radiating warmth seeped through the thin fabric of my pink dress, settling deep into my bones. For a moment, the noise of the tavern, the clinking glasses and the rowdy shouts, faded into a dull hum. I felt safe.

  "Better?" he asked softly.

  "I... yeah," I whispered, my heart doing a little flutter that had absolutely nothing to do with my old medical condition.

  A moment later, the crowd seemed to part instinctively as Valerius returned. I stared in genuine awe as he approached. He was carrying three overflowing plates of steaming food balanced perfectly on his left arm and hand. In his right hand, he held three large mugs of foaming ale, but they weren't in his palm. Each mug was balanced precariously on a different fingertip, held steady by some impossible feat of butler physics.

  "Lunch is served," Valerius announced, lowering the plates onto the table with a flourish that didn't spill a single drop of gravy.

  The food looked like thick slices of roasted meat covered in a vibrant orange sauce, accompanied by tubers that glowed faintly purple. Despite the strange colors, the taste was incredible, savory, sweet, and filling. We ate in a focused silence, Malphas keeping his hand on my shoulder the entire time, maintaining the facade.

  Once the plates were cleared and the gold coin had done its work of keeping the Mayor's mouth shut, we stood to leave. The cool air of the street hit my face, a welcome relief from the stuffy, spice filled tavern.

  "Where to now?" I asked, looking up at Malphas. "The Mayor couldn't remember his face, and the bounty poster didn't seem to trigger anything else."

  Malphas looked toward the horizon, his gaze piercing the distance. "We head outside the South Gate. If the Mayor saw him enter from there three nights ago, he likely came from the road south toward the next province."

  "The next town south is a three day trek for a normal traveler," Valerius added, his grandfather persona slipping back into the precise tones of a Head Butler. "But I suspect more people will have info on this mystery man if we follow the main trade route. A man on a black horse who can erase memories is not someone who stays invisible for long."

  "Then we walk," Malphas commanded, his hand slipping from my shoulder back to my hand, pulling me along. "And Vespera? Try to look like you're enjoying the stroll. You look like you're marching to your doom."

  "I'm trying!" I huffed, tripping slightly over a cobblestone. "It's hard to look romantic when I'm worried about accidentally starting a war!"

  ─── ??☆?? ───

  As we reached the towering South Gate, the guards watched us pass with idle curiosity. Just beyond the stone archway, the paved road turned into a winding dirt path that led deep into a forest of trees with silver leaves.

  Malphas stopped and looked back at the city walls. "One screw up," he repeated, his voice dropping into that chilling tone that reminded me exactly who he was. "One slip of the tongue, and this entire paradise burns. Remember that as we move deeper into Kaelen's lands."