Page 74 of The Dark Lord Awakens
“And they’ll cooperate with the distribution network?”
“With enthusiasm, my lord.” Azrael’s lips curved in a cold smile. “They have developed a sudden passion for public service. One might say they’ve seen the light… or perhaps more accurately, the darkness.”
I decided not to ask for details. Some things were better left to Azrael’s expertise, and making sure the nobility understood the new order was definitely in his wheelhouse. I had a feeling his performance review would include phrases like “exceeds expectations in terrifying the aristocracy” and “shows initiative in creative intimidation techniques.”
“Good,” I said simply. “We need their resources, not their resistance. And definitely not their attitude problems.”
Azrael bowed slightly. “Rest assured, my lord, they now fully appreciate the honor of serving your vision. There will be no further… misunderstandings.”
As he straightened, I noticed a smudge of something dark on his sleeve—just a tiny spot, easily missed if you weren’t looking closely. I wondered exactly what “educational” methods he’d employed, then quickly decided I was better off not knowing.
“Will you be requiring anything else this evening, my lord?” Azrael asked, his voice dropping to a lower register that seemed to vibrate in my chest.
I looked up, suddenly aware of how close he was standing. The firelight cast half his face in shadow, accentuating the sharp angles of his cheekbones and the crimson glow of his eyes. For a heartbeat, I couldn’t remember what he’d asked me.
“Uh, no. No, I’m good. Just going to finish this riveting chapter on soil pH balances and turn in.”
“Very well, my lord. I shall prepare your bath before you retire.”
As he withdrew to prepare my evening bath (still not giving up on that apparently), I returned to my reading, trying to focus on agricultural techniques rather than the lingering impressionof Azrael’s presence. There was something different about him tonight—a heightened intensity, an electric quality to his movements that made me hyperaware of him in a way I hadn’t been before.
I shook my head, trying to clear it. I had more important things to worry about than whatever weird vibes my demon butler was giving off. The nobles would cooperate now. The camp was functioning well. Progress was being made.
And if I was occasionally distracted by the way Azrael’s voice seemed to caress certain words, or the graceful precision of his movements, or the subtle heat in his gaze when he thought I wasn’t looking—well, that was just another strange aspect of my new life as the dark lord of Iferona.
Nothing to worry about. Nothing at all.
18
Lucien/Beau
Iwoke up to the sound of Azrael quietly arranging my breakfast tray by the window—a definite improvement over the foot-of-the-bed vigil he’d been so fond of. After my not-so-subtle hints about personal space and the concept of knocking, he’d reluctantly adjusted his morning routine. Baby steps in demon butler domestication.
Mr. Snuggles stirred against my side, his warm scaly body curled in the hollow between my ribs and arm. He made a soft rumbling sound without opening his eyes, his tail tightening slightly around my wrist.
“Good morning, my lord,” Azrael said, noticing I was awake. “I trust you slept well?”
“Like the dead, except with more drooling and less decomposition.” I yawned, stretching luxuriously with my free arm. Mr. Snuggles huffed in sleepy protest at the movement but didn’t relinquish his position. “What’s on the agenda for today’s episode of ‘Extreme Makeover: Demon Realm Edition’?”
“The department heads await your presence for the morning briefing, followed by your inspection of the camp at midday,” Azrael replied, laying out my now-standard outfit of tailored pants and a crisp button-down shirt. He’d stoppedvisibly flinching when handling my “void garments,” though I occasionally caught him eyeing the spiky horror-show outfits gathering dust in the closet with something like nostalgic longing.
“Right, the morning briefing.” I nodded, sliding out of bed. Mr. Snuggles made a disgruntled sound but simply curled into the warm spot I’d left behind, clearly choosing sleep over the prospect of a morning meeting. “Let me guess—more forest refugees, more resource shortages, and more nobles pretending they’ve always been progressive champions of the common demon?”
“Your insight is remarkable as always, my lord,” Azrael replied with what might have been the ghost of a smile.
It had been just over a month since we’d established the camp, and somehow, impossibly, things were actually going well. The initial emergency phase had stabilized into something resembling a functional community. People were fed, sheltered, and clean. Medical cases had improved dramatically. We’d even established rudimentary education programs for the children, though I drew the line at naming the school after me. The last thing I needed was “Lucien Noir Elementary” on my conscience.
But the costs were astronomical. Feeding nearly forty thousand demons daily was draining the treasury faster than a college student’s bank account on spring break. And the camp kept growing—fifty to eighty new forest refugees arrived daily, either fleeing whatever was consuming the Howling Forest or drawn by rumors of the dark lord’s unexpected generosity.
Which reminded me—I needed to check on our new revenue stream. After reviewing the treasury reports with Lord Taxman, I’d finally implemented the solution I’d been working on.
“Supremo,” I called quietly, making sure Azrael was occupied with arranging my breakfast tray by the window.
The blue interface materialized before me, thankfully with its volume adjusted to a reasonable level. [Helpdesk Supreme welcomes valued customer Lord Lucien. This unit is pleased to provide your merchant account summary as of this morning.]
A detailed report appeared, showing a series of transactions that made my business major heart sing. The listings we’d created for Iferona’s unique resources had attracted immediate attention across multiple realms. Shadow Essence was selling faster than we could extract it, and the Void Mushrooms from the Murk Marshes had become an overnight sensation after being featured in something calledImmortal Gourmand Monthly.
I smiled, remembering the day three weeks ago when I’d first introduced the department heads to the concept of void commerce…
