Page 71 of Bargain with the Demon King
The servants remain frozen. A mortal—no, something else now—claiming the throne beside their ancient King. Our marks pulse in rhythm, proof of what we've become.
"The old council is dead." I gesture at the artistic corpses. "Their positions are open. Who speaks for the lower courts?"
A demon steps forward—middle-aged by their standards, small horns, cautious intelligence. "I do, Your Majesty."
"Good. You're promoted. Your first task is to bring me three humans from the protected settlements. They'll serve on the new council." His eyes widen, but he nods. "Your second is to clean this up. Frame Lady Morinth—she's particularly artistic with that arrow. The rest can fertilize the nightmare gardens."
They scramble to obey. I lean back in my improvised throne, watching them work around us. Azzaron's thumbstrokes my shoulder, and through our connection I feel his dark amusement, his pride.
"You're terrifying."
"I learned from the best. Plus, dying clarifies priorities. Mine are simple: reshape this realm, build something better, and ensure everyone knows what happens when they touch what's ours."
"Ours." He tests the word, finds it fits.
A servant approaches with robes. I wave them off. "Not yet. Let them see exactly what their Queen is. Let them carry the image back—their King's equal, crowned in blood, wearing nothing but his mark and her choices."
The cleaning takes time. They remove corpses, gather throne fragments. The soul-stones overhead pulse steadier, accepting the new order. When the room holds only bloodstains, I finally stand.
"Dinner? Resurrection burns calories. Plus, we have infrastructure to plan."
"You're hungry after that?"
"Always hungry after good sex and multiple murders. Very draining." I step over Vex's outline. "Also, someone needs to tell the human settlements about their new political representation. They'll panic."
"Already planning reforms?"
"I've been planning reforms since you made me count ceiling cracks. Depression gives you time to think about systematic improvements." I accept the robe a servant finally hands me—dark silk that flows like water. "First priority: restructure the soul-stone economy. It's barbaric and inefficient."
"You want to destroy my entire economic system?"
"Our economic system. And not destroy—revolutionize. What if souls became power sources instead of currency?Voluntary exchanges instead of desperate ones?" I tie the robe while servants watch my every movement. "We could build something new—demons and humans coexisting by choice."
"That's impossible."
"So was surviving an arrow to the gut." I take his hand, pull him toward the door. "Come on. Food, planning, then I visit the human settlements. They should hear about their Queen from me, not demon gossip."
"You're serious."
"Dead serious. This realm has stagnated for millennia. We're dragging it forward whether it likes it or not."
"And if they resist?"
"Then we get creative with corpse arrangements. I'm thinking pyramids. Very geometric."
He laughs—genuine delight. "You're discussing mass murder as interior design."
"Multitasking." We pause at our chambers. "Besides, someone has to plan our future. Violence alone won't work. We need infrastructure, education, arts that don't require suffering."
"Ambitious."
"I've got eternity now." I turn to face him, our marks glowing soft in the corridor. "We're building something new. A realm where power comes from choice. Where humans and demons create instead of destroy."
"Naively optimistic."
"Perfect combination. You bring seventeen thousand years of cunning. I bring stupid hope and a fresh perspective. Together, we remake everything."
He kisses me slow and thorough. I taste our future—complicated, violent, revolutionary. When we part, I'm smiling sharp enough to cut.
