Page 9 of A Heart Disguised 1

Darius brushed the errant thought aside. He was a demon lord, a creature carved from shadow and darkness. Compassion was a luxury he could ill afford, especially not for a human whose presence was little more than a chess move by King Azrael.

His bride-to-be—a mere pawn in this political charade—would soon cross those same streets on her way to Argentum Keep. She was an unknown variable in a game he’d played masterfully until now—a potential weakness for enemies like The Purifier to exploit.

And yet as he gazed upon the city that had become his second home, Darius found himself hoping that the woman would possess a spine of steel. Perhaps she would be different, an anomaly among her kind who would not cower at his mere presence. He would not hold his breath.

A wry chuckle escaped his lips as he considered the absurdity of his situation. A demon lord and a human bride—it was a tale that would have the bards weeping with joy and the courtiers whispering behind their fans. But Darius was no romantic, and he had no intention of playing the part of a lovestruck suitor.

Still, curiosity gnawed at him. What would she be like, this human girl thrust into his world of shadows and power? Despite his reluctance, he found himself drawn to the mystery she presented. He turned from the window to his desk, where a report lay open. His investigation team had been thorough, as always. Lord Aldercrest had two sons and two young daughters: Rosalind, age fifteen, and Lily, age fourteen. Darius’ lip curled in disgust. A child bride. The very thought made his stomach churn.

“A marriage in name only,” he muttered to himself, his voice a low growl in the empty room. The idea of touching a mere child, barely more than a babe in his immortal eyes, revolted him to his very core.

Darius had always preferred his bedmates strong, capable of handling his demonic strength and appetite. Gender had never mattered to him; man or woman, as long as they were willing and robust enough to match his vigor. But a child? Never.

Yet the question of which daughter would be sent to him burned in his mind like an insistent flame. Though his instincts whispered it would be Rosalind, the elder of the two, Darius craved certainty. With a deep breath, he closed his eyes and reached out with his arcane senses, his consciousness expanding beyond the confines of his mortal form.

In the skies above Argentum, he sought out the winged creatures that soared on currents of air. His magic, ancient and potent, touched the minds of five birds—a raven with feathers black as night, a hawk with eyes sharp as his own, a dove as white as fresh-fallen snow, a magpie with wings of ebony and ivory, and a starling with feathers that shimmered like the night sky.

With but a whisper of his will, Darius wove his essence into theirs, forging a bond that would allow him to see through their eyes. The spell took hold, a shiver of power rippling through him as the connection solidified.

“Fly,” he commanded, his voice resonating with otherworldly authority. “Seek out the escort team and show me what I must know.”

As he settled back into his chair, quill in hand, a part of his mind remained connected to the birds, their journey a constant presence at the edge of his consciousness. The world tilted and expanded in his mind’s eye, offering five distinct perspectives of the landscape below. Fields of emerald green stretched out beneath them, dotted with the occasional cluster of ancient trees or winding silver rivers. The birds soared higher, catching thermals that carried them swiftly toward their quarry.

Darius knew it would take time for his winged spies to reach the escort team. He opened his eyes, the confines of his study jarringly mundane compared to the sweeping aerial vistas he had just witnessed. With a sigh that seemed to carry the weight of centuries, he returned his attention to the parchments before him. There were still matters of the nation to attend to—treaties to review, disputes to settle, and decisions that could shape the future of Lunaria.

Yet as the quill scratched against parchment, filling the quiet study with its familiar sound, Darius found his thoughts continually drifting back to the impending arrival of his bride. Despite himself, a flicker of anticipation stirred in his chest, mingling uneasily with his dread. Soon, he would have his first glimpse of the girl who was to be his wife—even if only in name.

4

Robin

As Meredith laced up the accursed corset, I could feel my ribs complaining with each tightened pull. My hands trembled as I gripped the edge of the dressing table, my knuckles turning white. “Perhaps you’ve mistaken me for a wasp,” I quipped, my voice wavering as she gave one last yank. “I assure you, I’ve no need for a cinched waist to attract a mate.”

“Hush, dear,” Meredith admonished, though her voice wavered with emotion. “You look lovely. Like an angel.” Her eyes, red and puffy from days of weeping, belied her smile, and I knew her heart bled for me.

I turned back to the mirror, my breath catching in my throat as I was confronted by the image of Lady Robin Aldercrest—a specter of delicate beauty that bore my name but seemed to belong to another. The gown, one of Lily’s old ones that Lady Aldercrest had foisted upon me, was a mesmerizing creation: a fitted kirtle of sapphire silk embraced my torso, flowing into a full skirt adorned with intricate geometric embroidery in silver thread, while the overdress, crafted from diaphanous material, draped around my shoulders with wide, bell-shaped sleeves, its low, square neckline highlighting the porcelain pallor of my skin.

My hair, left unbound, cascaded down my back like a waterfall of moonlight, reaching past my waist in silken waves. The pale strands seemed to glow in the soft light filtering through the window, creating an almost otherworldly aura around me. The artfully applied cosmetics only enhanced my feminine allure—ruby-red lips, softly blushing cheeks, and thick, dark lashes framing my bright-green eyes, transforming me into a vision of delicate beauty.

As I gazed at my reflection, I couldn’t help but think I looked like one of the fair folk from the bedtime stories of my youth—ethereal and untouchable. The delicate features of my face, accentuated by the makeup and the simplicity of my unadorned hair, gave me an angelic appearance that was both beautiful and unsettling. I was the very picture of noble grace, a porcelain doll come to life, ready to be shipped off to a demon’s lair.

“Careful,” I said with a forced smile, “any tighter and I might shatter like porcelain.”

Meredith clicked her tongue, her hands shaking as she adjusted the skirts. “Hush now, Lady Robin. You need to look the part.”

I rolled my eyes, trying to mask the fear that threatened to overwhelm me. “I still don’t see why it couldn’t have beenLord Robin. At least then I could breathe.” My attempt at humor fell flat, the words catching in my throat.

Lily, her own eyes brimming with tears, flung her arms around me, her sobs muffled against my shoulder. “You’re so beautiful, Robin,” she whispered. “Like an avenging angel.”

I hugged her tightly, my own eyes stinging with unshed tears. “Let’s hope I won’t need to do any avenging,” I murmured, my voice thick with emotion.

Rosalind approached with a conspiratorial glint in her eye. “Perhaps we could run away,” she suggested. “Find a ship totake us across the sea, to a land where demon dukes and their demands hold no sway.”

I shook my head, a wry smile tugging at my lips even as my heart raced with fear. “And what would we do there? Become pirates and plunder the high seas?”

“Or we could set a fire… fake your death?” Rosalind added, her eyes alight with the spark of rebellion.

“And leave a trail of ash to our doorstep? You’ve been spending too much time with Meredith and her wild tales,” I retorted, though I couldn’t help but feel a twinge of longing for such a wild, untamed life—anything but the gilded cage that awaited me in Lunaria.

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