FALLEN ANGEL: MARRIED TO THE DEMON KING
Chapter 41: THE DISASTROUS MEETING (1)

Chapter 41: THE DISASTROUS MEETING (1)

When she was halfway through the book, a knock at the door drew her attention. Echo perked up, his head swiveling toward the sound.

"Enter," Arella absentmindedly called out as she dipped her quill in the ink. Lysia quietly walked into the room. Her presence was muted as she pushed a trolley into the study room. On the trolley was a kettle of tea and an array of sweets. She worked quietly as she placed the tea and snacks on a side of the table that Arella was not using. Then she bent down to pick up a bowl from the bottom of the trolly. It was filled with snacks that she cautiously placed in front of Echo.

Echo gave her a lazy glance that startled her. She paused her actions and waited for it to settle back down before walking back. Arella had raised her head at some point to look at Lysia. The demon was more squeamish than Arella would have even thought her to be.

"Thank you for the tea, Lysia." Arella spoke up, breaking the creature and her maid from the stalemate that had settled over them.

Lysia seemed even more spooked by Arella calling out her name. The demoness jumped up like a startled cat before looking back at Arella slowly. "Your Majesty. I brought you your tea."

Her words made Arella look at the tea pot and tea cup that Lysia had placed on her table. "I already saw the tea." She gave the spooked-out demon a small smile and said, "You may leave."

Lysia gave Arella a deep curtsy, grabbed the trolley, and wheeled it out of the room.

Arella and Echo glanced at each other. "Did you have to be mean?"

Echo raised his brows in a very human-like expression that said, ’Do I really look like I did anything to spook her?’ He let out a yawn and got up on his hunches to stretch his six limbs. With a huff, he had begun eating the meal that had been brought to him.

Arella chuckled, "If someone saw how you eat, they may think I starve you."

Echo did not spare her a glance, so Arella picked up the teapot and filled her cup. The tea was warm, and although she did not know what type it was, she immediately decided that it was her new favorite tea in the world.

With that, she went back to her reading as she absentmindedly snacked on her treats and tea.

A few minutes later, another knock sounded at the door. Arella looked up from her book, "Enter." This time, it was Velmoria.

The dark-skinned demoness walked up to the large table and gave a small bow, "The hour is up, your highness. We have time to fix your hair before you meet with the generals."

Arella raised a brow. "Is that really necessary?" She patted her locks. The hairstyle that Velmoria had worked on that morning had already become flat. "Never mind; I see what you mean."

Velmoria smirked, "Allow me."

Arella picked up the book she had been reading, then stood and walked to the chair that sat near the hearth. It was the only one that would allow Velmoria enough access to her hair. Echo plodded up to rest at her feet, still knawing on a snack he had gotten from his bowl

"Do make it quick." She flipped open the book and continued to read. Although she read on a chair, her posture was perfect, her back ramrod straight, with no indication of slouching.

Velmoria produced a small set of combs and pins from her skirts and began to work. Her fingers were swift as her hands weaved Arella’s short locks into an intricate braid that framed her face gently.

Arella took the mirror Velmoria produced from somewhere and let out a soft laughter, "Am I going to intimidate the generals or to flirt with them?"

"Oh, do not get me wrong, your highness. This hairstyle is for the king to gawk at your neck as he listens to the generals drone on and on about boring matters. I assure you he will have the urge to take a bite out of you."

Arella’s laugh was loud: "I see." She handed the mirror back to Velmoria. "Then, shall we?"

Velmoria put the combs and remaining pins back from wherever she had gotten them and gestured to the door. "This way, Your Majesty."

The walk through the corridors to the meeting area was more direct than their earlier meandering through the palace. However, it still felt confusing for Arella. Every corridor looked the same, and each door seemed similar to the last. Velmoria walked at a slow pace, which allowed Arella to look outside the windows ever so often. Outside, the suns were shining so brightly up in the sky. It looked to be sometime after noon.

As they approached the grand hall, the sound of low voices and loud male laughter reached Arella’s ears. The two stopped before a set of double doors, and Arella patted her clothes down at the hem and raised her hand to fix her halo.

"Your Majesty," Velmoria spoke up before she opened the door. "The generals are nothing like the little designer we encountered earlier. If any of them show disrespect and the King makes no move to show them their place, feel free to chop their heads off. That is the way of the palace. You answer to no one but the King."

Arella stored that tidbit of information in her mind as she nodded. Then, a smirk settled on her lips, "Oh, Velmoria, I think it is me they should be worried about. I may very well be the one provoking them."

Velmoria raised a brow, then a sly smile settled upon her lips. "Oh, I know they should absolutely be terrified of you, your majesty, but they don’t know that." Her laughter tinkled down the hallway. She settled down a few seconds later, then pushed open the doors.

The room fell silent as Velmoria announced Arella’s arrival. "The Demon Queen enters."

Arella stepped into the vast chamber. A high vaulted ceiling and high walls lined with six banners bearing sigils were the first thing she noticed.

A massive, circular table dominated the room, around which sat a dozen generals clad in dark armor. Their eyes gleamed as they all turned their gazes to look at her, studying her. She could feel their gazes on her halo, her wings. The air was thick with demonic energy, so potent that she was sure she could smell it.

At the head of the table stood the king. His presence was domineering, if anything. His crimson eyes were settled on her figure. Positioned next to his seat was another one that was empty. He walked over from the table, up to her, and put forth his hand for her to take.

Arella was not used to being shorter than others, thanks to her many years in the human realm. She strained her neck, tilting it back to look up at the Demon King. His scent permeated her nostrils, and that now familiar feeling immediately began bubbling in her stomach. She quelled it by working her holy power through her body, circulating it. Not that it helped much. However, it at the very least quelled the urge to pounce on the king.

After she was sure that she was not going to suddenly pounce on the King, she took his outstretched hand, "Thank you."

He pulled her seat for her before going back to his position. Echo settled himself at her feet. The other demons gave the creature small glances but did not say a word. Arella’s emerald eyes settled on each and every demon general. They all looked younger than she had thought. The council of elders back home was filled with old men who called the shots but never stepped a foot on the battlefield.

"Generals," King Varziel began, his deep voice sending a delicious tingle down Arella’s spine. "Allow me to formally introduce you to the Queen. Arella of the house of Camael."

Arella gave them a sickly sweet smile, even as the room remained silent. The weight of their gazes remained heavy on her as she smiled.

"It really is a pleasure meeting the backbone of this kingdom." Her voice was just as sickly sweet as her smile. "I have obviously heard all about your exploits. With us being mortal enemies and all." Her voice was clear, as she enunciated their position very efficiently.

The room remained silent, but the faintest ripple of amusement crossed a few of the generals’ expressions. One of them, a tall, slender demon with sharp features and skin as dark as onyx, tilted his head. His golden eyes glinted as he broke the silence. "Yet now you sit among us. Quite the wondrous twist of fate, your majesty." His voice was laced with sarcasm: "Mortal enemies indeed."

Arella gave her signature sickly sweet smile, "I mean, I do think myself to be quite the catch. Me being seated here is a gift for you all."

.

S/T:

Arella: I do not jest. If I speak for myself, I believe that I am, in a sentence, perfect in all ways possible.

Interviewer: Do you not think that thought process is a little narcissistic?

Arella: How can it be narcissistic if it is the truth?

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