Page 46 of A Heart Disguised 1

Darius exchanged a quick glance with Ignis, who was trying hard to suppress a grin. “Master, I think there’s been a misunderstanding. Robin and I—”

“Robin? What a peculiar name for a demoness,” Grimoire mused, stroking his long beard. “Ah, but who am I to judge? The young ones these days have such creative names. I’m sure she’s absolutely charming!”

Ignis couldn’t contain his amusement any longer and let out a chuckle, which he quickly disguised as a cough when Darius shot him a warning look.

Master Grimoire turned his attention to Ignis. “And you! When are you going to find yourself a nice demoness and settle down? I’ve been waiting centuries to see my two star pupils married with little demon spawn running about!”

Ignis coughed, clearly flustered. “I… uh… I’ve been rather busy with my duties, Master.”

“Busy! Hah!” Grimoire scoffed. “You two have always been ‘busy.’ Well, at least Darius here has finally come to his senses. Now it’s your turn, Ignis. Don’t make an old demon wait another millennium to see some grand-pupils!”

As they continued their journey through the castle’s winding corridors, Darius and Ignis exchanged looks of fond exasperation. Their old teacher’s enthusiasm was as boundless as ever, even if his assumptions were a bit off the mark.

Finally, they reached the guest chambers. Master Grimoire, despite his earlier energy, was beginning to show signs of fatigue from the long journey.

“Here we are, Master,” Darius said gently, guiding the old demon toward a plush armchair. “Why don’t you rest for a while? You must be exhausted from your travels.”

Grimoire sank into the chair with a grateful sigh. “Ah, yes. These old bones aren’t what they used to be. But don’t think you’re off the hook, my boys. I want to hear all about this wife of yours, Darius, and Ignis, we’ll be having a long chat about your future prospects!”

Darius chuckled softly. “Rest well, Master. We’ll have plenty of time to catch up over dinner.”

As they left the room, closing the door quietly behind them, Darius and Ignis shared another look of fond exasperation. Their old teacher might be ancient, but his memory—selective as it was—and his wit were as sharp as ever.

Ignis leaned in close to Darius as they walked down the corridor. “I’d forgotten how… energetic he can be. And how imaginative.”

Darius chuckled. “Indeed. Though I fear his energy might be put to use concocting even wilder theories about my ‘wife’ and our upcoming nuptials.”

“Speaking of which,” Ignis said with a mischievous grin, “how do you plan to explain your ‘bride’ to our dear old master? I don’t think he’s quite prepared for the surprise that awaits him.”

Darius’ eyes gleamed with amusement. “Oh, I’m sure we’ll think of something. After all, life is full of surprises, isn’t it? And if there’s one thing Master Grimoire taught us, it’s how to think on our feet.”

14

Robin

The afternoon sun illuminated the castle courtyard garden, but its beauty was lost on me. My eyes skimmed over the blooming flowers and manicured hedges without really seeing them. Russet trotted at my side, his familiar presence a small comfort. Starling perched on my shoulder, while the black puppy I’d dubbed Fluffy bounded ahead, oblivious to my melancholy.

In my hand, a letter crinkled softly, its contents weighing heavy on my heart. Rosalind’s and Lily’s neat script blurred as I read it for the umpteenth time.

“Dearest Robin,” it began, “We miss you terribly. How we wish we could be there for your wedding day! But Mother forbids it. She says there are too many demons in Lunaria, and the thought of you marrying the demon lord Darius himself… Oh, Robin, we worry for you so.”

With a heavy sigh, I tucked the letter into my skirt pocket. The castle’s grandeur suddenly felt hollow, its opulent corridors now seeming to mock my solitude. Without the prospect of my sisters’ laughter echoing through its halls, even the warm afternoon sun couldn’t chase away the chill settling in my heart.

I shouldn’t have been surprised, really. From the moment Father had decreed that I would be the duke’s bride, I knew I had been cast aside. The order wasn’t just a command; it was a severance. In his eyes, I was no longer part of the Aldercrest family.

Still, a small part of me had hoped that perhaps Rosalind and Lily might find a way to attend the wedding. Their absence only reinforced the finality of my father’s decision. Meredith and Bernard would be there, along with Russet and Starling, but it wasn’t the same. They were dear to me, of course, but they couldn’t fill the void left by my sisters’ absence.

I leaned down to stroke Fluffy’s velvet-soft fur, a small smile tugging at my lips as the puppy’s tail wagged with fervor. The simplicity of our play under the dappled shade of an ancient oak tree was a balm to my troubled thoughts. For a moment, I allowed myself to forget the weight of my impending marriage and the absence of my family.

Lost in this brief respite, I barely registered Fluffy’s sudden excited bark. It was only when a voice called out from above that I snapped back to reality.

“I do hope that beast hasn’t eaten your tongue. It would be a shame to have a mute bride.”

Startled, I looked up to find a boy hanging upside down from a tree branch, a mischievous grin spread across his face. With a graceful flip that belied his precarious position, he landed on his feet before me, barely disturbing a blade of grass.

I took in his appearance—sleek horns, silver eyes, and a build as slender as my own. The resemblance to the duke was unmistakable, though this boy exuded an impish charm all his own.

“I assure you, my tongue is quite intact,” I replied, arching an eyebrow. “Though I can’t speak for your manners. Do you always greet people by hanging from trees?”

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