The East Wing of the Bealor Mansion was exactly what Elara had promised. It was quiet, offering a clear view of the entire city from the tall windows.

  Ignoring the scenery, Dae walked across the thick carpets and dropped into a high-backed chair. His muscles ached from three straight days in the saddle. He let his head fall back against the cushion and stared at the ceiling, but his mind refused to shut off.

  It was the ears.

  He couldn't get Elara's face out of his head—specifically, those long, elegant ears that tapered to sharp points sweeping back through her dark hair. According to the fragments of knowledge shoved into his brain, demons had horns, tails, or massive, hulking frames. Even if a demon had pointed ears, they were supposed to be jagged, not the leaf-shaped ears of a high fantasy elf.

  Was his memory flawed? Was there a whole sub-species of elves in this world that his body's original owner had just been too lazy to remember?

  He needed to know. If his baseline understanding of the world's races was this broken, he was going to get himself killed long before he ever reached the dimensional tear. But he couldn't just walk outside and ask, 'Hey, why does your boss look like an elf?' He had a reputation to maintain as the arrogant, foolish prince.

  Dae turned his head toward the heavy double doors. General Kael was out there, standing at a "reasonable distance" in the hallway just as they had agreed back at the roadside inn.

  "General Kael," Dae called out, making sure to inject just enough lazy authority into his voice.

  A moment later, the door opened with a quiet click. Kael stepped just inside the frame, his scarred face impassive and his posture rigid. "Your Highness. Is the room not to your liking?"+1

  "The room is fine," Dae said, waving a hand dismissively. He leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees, trying to project casual, arrogant curiosity. "Tell me about the Bealors. Specifically... what is wrong with them?"

  Kael blinked, a slow, deliberate movement. "Wrong with them, Your Highness?"

  "Their appearance," Dae pressed, keeping his tone flat. "The pale skin. The lack of horns. Those weirdly shaped ears. Do they all look like... that?"

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  Kael stayed silent for a long moment. His eyes flicked from Dae's exhausted posture to the empty room, and then back to Dae's face. Slowly, the general crossed his arms.

  "The Bealor bloodline is ancient, Your Highness. Their inherent connection to spatial magic and teleportation gates has shaped their physical traits over many generations," Kael explained, his voice perfectly neutral. "Their ears, their complexion... it is the mark of their heritage."

  "So, they all look like that," Dae muttered to himself, letting out a breath. Okay. So they are basically elves, but they call them demons here. Good to know. He leaned back in his chair, satisfied with the biological confirmation. "Fine. That's all. You can go back outside."

  But Kael didn't move.

  Instead, the general tilted his head slightly, a subtle shift in his otherwise stoic demeanor. "If I may speak freely, Your Highness."

  "Do I have a choice?" Dae grumbled.

  "You publicly rejected Lady Elara's invitation to a private dinner," Kael stated softly, his voice dropping as if discussing a sensitive military secret. "You did so in front of her personal guard, explicitly referring to the political summit as a 'date'."

  "Because I wanted to sleep," Dae said, rubbing his temples. "I told her that."

  "Indeed," Kael said dryly. "And yet, the very first thing you do upon securing privacy in your chambers is call me inside to ask highly specific, intimate questions regarding Lady Elara's physical appearance."

  Dae froze. His hands stopped massaging his temples. He looked up at Kael, a sudden, horrifying realization dawning on him. "Wait. No. That's not—"

  "I must admit, your tactics are unorthodox," Kael interrupted, his mouth twitching with the faintest hint of amusement. "Insulting her in the street to lower her guard, playing the uninterested fool, and now inquiring about her traits behind closed doors. It is certainly a... bold strategy for courtship."

  "I am not courting her!" Dae practically shouted, his face flushing hot. "I was just asking a biological question!"

  Kael raised a single eyebrow, his scarred face conveying an infuriating amount of disbelief. He uncrossed his arms and gave a short, accommodating bow.

  "As you say, Your Highness," Kael replied smoothly. He took a step backward toward the hallway. "However, if your sudden biological curiosity persists... shall I inform the mansion's staff that you would prefer some juice brought to your room after all?"

  Dae stared at him, his brain stalling out.

  "Or," Kael continued, his voice dropping to a deadpan whisper, "if Lady Elara is too young for your tastes, perhaps you wish to see if House Bealor has any older relatives who might provide some... bread?"

  "Get out," Dae choked out, pointing a trembling finger at the door.

  "Right away, Your Highness," Kael said. The general stepped back out into the hallway, pulling the door shut behind him. Just before it clicked closed, Dae could have sworn he heard the hardened veteran let out a quiet snort of laughter.

  Dae was left alone in the sweeping silence of the East Wing. He dragged both hands down his face and groaned loudly into the empty room.

  "I am going to die here," he muttered to himself. "If the dimensional tears don't kill me, the misunderstandings will."