FALLEN ANGEL: MARRIED TO THE DEMON KING
Chapter 35: THE FIRST BREAKFAST (1)

Chapter 35: THE FIRST BREAKFAST (1)

As Arella reached for the door to her chambers, she hesitated for just a moment, her fingers grazing the polished handle. It felt like her nerves were eating her from the inside out.

She had not stepped a foot out of the room since she got married after all. What difference would another day make? She could very well stay in all day and have the designers come to the room and the king have breakfast with her here. She didn’t have to leave the room at all.

Arella shook her head, tempted to smack herself. Since when had she become such a wimp? That was not her style at all, and she refused to let nerves get the best of her.

She felt a familiar energy outside her bedroom door, which she immediately opened. She was greeted by the sight of Echo standing outside. Its eyes turned to her, and it let out a low rumble from its chest.

The massive creature sat patiently, its sleek obsidian form rippling like liquid smoke in the bright hallway. Its fur shifted with his subtle movement as the creature’s tail swished lazily behind him. "Echo." Arella gave the creature a wide smile as she walked up to it and knelt to meet his height. "You have been here waiting for me."

Echo tilted its head slightly, letting out a low guttural sound somewhere between a purr and a growl. She reached out, her hands resting on the fur of his head. "I hope you came to join me for breakfast." She ruffled his fur, messing it up.

Echo let out a quiet huff of agreement as his massive form rose. Arella stood up as well, smoothing the emerald velvet of her dress, and cast a quick glance at Velmoria and her maids, who had been standing behind her. "I see that the shadow hound really likes you," Velmoria said as they walked down the hallway. She had dismissed the other three to tend to other tasks, leaving just the two of them.

Velmoria did not hide the approval that tinged her voice.

Arella reached out and scratched behind Echo’s ears. "He has been with me for a hundred years. I think it would be odder if he did not like me."

Velmoria let out a chuckle. "He may very well be testing your boundaries. Shadow hounds are the hardest familiars to bond with. You are fortunate he has not decided to devour one of the staff yet to show his loyalty to you."

Arella glanced down at the creature, who gazed back at her with his glowing eyes. "Oh, he wouldn’t do something like that. Our boundaries were tested a long time ago, and he’s a good hound now." She was confident. "You wouldn’t do something to anger me, would you, Echo?"

The beast let out a deep rumbling sound that may have been a growl or a laugh—it was hard to tell. Velmoria arched a brow, clearly unconvinced. "Shadow hounds thrive off of fear and chaos. They are creatures of pure darkness. How you ended up with one is something that fills me with awe, your highness."

Arella laughed, "It is an odd story, really. This thing tried to have me for supper, and I decided it a good idea to adopt him. I quite like collecting strays, you see."

Velmoria’s smirk faltered. "I am sorry, what?"

"I am sure you do not think me a neatly packaged gift of feathers and light anymore." Arella’s laughter echoed in the hallway.

Velmoria recovered herself quickly. "You are clearly not," she struggled to find the right words, "not what I expected you to be, your highness."

"You can just tell me that I’m special; no need to beat around the bush." Arella’s laugh echoed once more.

They continued down the hall, servants stopping to bow at Arella before going on with their duties. The distant murmur of activity echoed faintly through the stone corridors. The palace walls were inexplicably dark, with towering arches and intricate carvings of those runes she had seen covering parts of her room. The carvings were softened by the dappled sunlight that streamed in through stained-glass windows.

As they passed a set of double doors, Arella’s gaze lingered on a depiction of battling demons and angels etched into the wood. The image was so lifelike, so much so that Arella could see the glowing wings of the angels depicted. The glowing wings seemed almost alive; their feathers were almost tangible in the carvings.

Her heart gave an unexpected lurch, and she quickly turned away, "Where does that door lead?" Her voice had become clipped.

"There are portraits commissioned or bought from famous demons beyond those doors. If you want to have a look, I can have it arranged." Velmoria answered, "Some of them are precious and fragile, so the room is usually locked."

Arella shook her head. "Not right now. There is a plan for the day." She was not ready to see how demons depicted her kind.

"Understood." Velmoria bowed her head.

They arrived at another set of doors that Velmoria opened. Sunlight filtered into the hallway, hitting Arella straight in the face. Arella closed her eyes, allowing the light to bathe her face in its warmth. The sun was sharp, the kind that was only there in the early hours of the day. With a stretch of her wings, she tilted her head back, reveling in the familiar sensation of sunlight. In this realm, just like in any other, sunlight felt the same—warm, soothing, and rejuvenating. Her halo bobbed up and down in time with her movement as she took in deep breaths of the sun-filled air. The soft glow of her halo almost mirrored the brightness of the sky above.

"You seem peaceful," a deep voice spoke up behind her.

Arella opened her eyes slowly, feeling the warmth of the sunlight still pouring over her skin. She straightened her posture, her wings shifting slightly as she looked over her shoulder. The voice was unmistakable, and it sent a tremble through her.

The king stood behind her, his dark figure cutting a sharp contrast against the light of the garden. The clothes he wore were dark, matching his temperament well. His scent was strong, immediately filling Arella’s nostrils. Almost immediately, heat filled her body, and she wanted to climb on top of him right there in the garden.

Still, she steadied her gaze. "I find peace where I can." She turned to face him fully, her wings unfolding slightly as she stepped into the soft sunlight. The sunlight wrapped around her like a familiar embrace, encasing her in a soft hug.

The king’s gaze followed her movements, his eyes narrowing slightly. "I can see that." His voice was low, as if he were weighing the right thing to say as not to destroy the delicate balance they had found between them over the last three days. "I am glad that you can find peace. I have worked for it tirelessly."

Arella cocked her head. As much as she wanted to learn more about him, her plan for the day was different.

"You have worked hard for peace, have you? Velmoria told me just now." Her tone was light and tinged with curiosity. "How quaint. I imagine peace was not easy to come by in a place like this." She gestured vaguely at the palace around them. There was a heavy air that seemed to cling to everything. The fortress that was the palace seemed to be intent on keeping those inside safe.

The king’s lips twitched slightly into a small, tight smile. "Peace doesn’t come easily to demons like me," he said, clasping his hands behind his back, "but it was necessary so that I could get what I desire."

Arella smiled gently, surprised by his words, "And what is it you desire so badly that you would tame the demon realm?"

The king’s gaze softened. "You will have to work harder than that to figure out my secrets, my queen."

His gaze was steady as he offered her his arm. "Are we going to stand here all day, my queen, or are we going to go have breakfast?"

Arella’s lips quirked at the corner ever so slightly. "Such a gentleman." The sarcasm in her voice was as clear as the sky.

"What can I say?" He shrugged as she hooked her arm in his own.

"Lead the way, your highness."

.

S/T:

Varziel, the king of overthinking: (After offering Arella his hand) Oh my goodness. What if she doesn’t accept my hand? What if she doesn’t want to touch my skin yet? (After Arella accepts his hand.) We’re holding hands! She smells so nice! Is she using perfume? I think I’m going to faint. No. I can’t faint now; we need to have breakfast; I can’t starve her. I will faint in my office.

(Later) Varziel really did faint in his office in disbelief. His wife was too cute, adorable, and perfect, and he wanted to stuff her in a bottle so that no one else could see her.

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