FALLEN ANGEL: MARRIED TO THE DEMON KING
Chapter 61: THE ANGRY DEMON QUEEN

Chapter 61: THE ANGRY DEMON QUEEN

The next evening, Arella was in her study. Although she had been making plans for her coronation, she was in a terribly pissy mood. She had even snapped at Lysia when the poor demon had accidentally knocked over a pile of parchments that she had meticulously organized. The sound of the falling papers had grated her already frayed nerves, and her sharp rebuke had left the maid wide-eyed and trembling.

Echo, noticing her awful mood, had made great efforts to stay away from her.

Her husband was ignoring her.

That damed demon king was ignoring her.

Arella felt her eyebrow twitch.

He had come into bed late the night before, his steps soft, as if he feared to wake her. Arella had not been asleep, of course, because she had been waiting for him so that they could talk about the meeting she had had with the High Lords.

She had lain there, eyes open in the dark, her thoughts churning as she listened to him settle on his side of the bed without a word. He had even had the nerve of sleeping with her back to her.

The nerve.

She had stewed for most of the night, glaring at his sleeping back, as if her glaring would make him turn and look at her and actually talk to her.

It did not.

Once Arella had been informed that morning that the King had not asked to have breakfast with her, just like he had refused to have dinner with her, Arella was ready to slam into his office and demand an explanation.

However, her duties called to her, and she had to postpone her angry discussion with him to finish her work for the day first. Planning a coronation was difficult work.

Her patience was wearing thin, though. Very thin.

She took in a deep calming breath, noticing that she had pressed to hard on the quill and the ink had blotted the parchment she had been writing on. She groaned and placed the quill down on the desk.

The mess only added to her frustration.

She pushed the chair back with more force than necessary, its legs scraping loudly against the floor.

"Enough is enough," she muttered under her breath. "I refuse to sit here and stew like a child."

Determined, she had just walked up to the door when her halo hummed with holy power. She put her hands forward and channeled just a small amount of holy power to her palms. Almost immediately, a thick stack of papers fell into her fingers. At the very top was a closed letter with a seal that she immediately recognized as coming from the human king.

His response had been much faster than she anticipated.

Then, an evil glint sparked in her eyes. If her darling husband refused to come to her, then she would simply have to go to him.

She tucked the stack of papers under her arm, the wicked determination set on her face. She left her study, her heels clicking somewhat loudly against the stone floors of the palace.

The moonlight filtered through the windows, illuminating her figure. Her footsteps seemed to be the only thing that sounded in the empty halls. However, she had seen the shadows of the evening servants. Their footsteps were always quiet, and they seemed more like shadows than anything.

Her footsteps echoed in the stillness as she made her way towards the king’s study room, where Velmoria had informed her that the king would eat his dinner from.

The audacity.

The doors to his study room were slightly ajar, and the low murmur of voices carried into the hallway. Arella did not pause; she did not even knock. She pushed open the doors with a sharp shove, making the hinges creak at the sudden movement.

The room fell silent, and two pairs of eyes looked up at Arella’s furious form.

King Varziel looked up at her from his desk, and his cheeks immediately got a dark pink hue. Other than that, his face betrayed nothing.

That heat that she had gotten used to by simply being in the same viscinity as him surged through her.

Arella gave him a sickly sweet smile, pushing her need to climb on him, and began to speak, "Mr. Demon King." She said, her tone did not display even a tiny bit of displeasure with him, for which she patted her own back, "I would like us to speak alone." She looked pointedly at the demon, who floated a few inches off the floor. If she remembered right, his name was Shazirath.

Taking a hint, he quickly gathered some papers and gave the both of them a bow before hurrying out of the room. Arella waited until the doors had clicked shut behind him before looking back at the demon king.

His expression was schooled now. King Varziel leaned back in his chair, his hands steepled in front of him. "My Queen."

"Do not ’my queen’ me when you have been avoiding me." Arella narrowed her eyes to look at him.

King Varziel’s eyes widened slightly, as if he did not think that Arella would have noticed that he was avoiding her, despite the fact that it was quite obvious.

"I..."

"If you plan to give me a useless excuse, do not bother. If you do, I will smash your head into your table."

King Varziel blinked, his composure slipping for a fraction of a second before he let out a low chuckle, "Such violence from an angel. Should I be concerned for my safety, my queen?"

Arella’s sickly sweet smile disappeared, replaced by a glare that was sharp enough to cut steel. "You should be concerned about the state of our relationship!"

The king’s eyes widened. It was almost as if the words coming from her were absolutely impossible to even imagine. Was it so shocking that she would come to like him even just a little bit?

Arella pinched the bridge of her nose. "Did you think that I would not notice you avoiding me, Varziel?" Her wings fluttered behind her, and her halo hummed with holy power, indicators for her agitation. "Sneaking into bed, not meeting with me all day? You and I are supposed to be a married couple! Our emotions may not be tied to the marriage, but we have a duty to perform."

"I am not running." King Varziel looked away, avoiding her eyes. "I have been bus..."

"Do not give me lousy excuses!" Arella stomped to his desk and slammed the papers she had been carrying onto it. The sound echoed in the silent room. "Do not dare finish that sentence because trust you me," she slammed both her palms onto the table. "I will smack you into next week."

"I was not avoiding you to hurt you, my queen," he said, his voice much quieter now. "I had reasons."

"Do enlighten me." She perched her ass onto the table. "I will wait all evening if I have to. I cannot wait to hear what heaven-shattering duties kept you held up."

He hesitated, his gaze flicking away from hers for a moment. That hesitation was all the confirmation she needed that there was more to this than he wanted to admit. She placed her palms back onto the table and bowed her body down. "If you do not speak now, I will leave and will have Velmoria prepare another room for me."

Those words seemed to slam him from whatever was keeping him silent. "I... wanted it to be a surprise."

"A surprise? What could possibly be so important that you would rather risk my wrath than tell me?"

He hesitated again, and he fidgeted with his fingers, obviously not willing to divulge the information. Arella stared at him, not breaking eye contact, moving with him as he tried to avoid her eyes. Finally, he relented and sighed, "It is your coronation, Arella. I have been preparing something."

She raised a brow but did not interrupt him, waiting for him to continue speaking.

King Varziel opened one of the drawers that sat to the side of his huge study table and pulled out a stack of papers.

He hesitated with the papers for a second before finally handing them to her. Arella took them from his hand, and the pictures that had been drawn gripped at her heartstrings.

"I wanted it to be perfect," he finally admitted, "but there has not been an angelic queen in the demon realm before. I wanted you to feel regal without you losing any of the characteristics that make you an angel."

Drawn onto the papers were sketches of her—headshots at least. Every sketch had a different crown drawn to complement her every day halo. She was speechless as she went through the papers, tracing the details of each one.

She glanced at the fidgeting demon king, only to notice the pencil stains on the tips of his fingers. She squinted her eyes, then looked up to meet his red eyes. "You have been avoiding me because you have been picking out a crown." Her voice had gone low: "No, you were designing for me a crown."

King Varziel rubbed the back of his head, like a schoolgoing kid who had been asked about his crush. "Well, I read somewhere that your halo is very important to you, being an angel and all. But all the jewelers I hired did not design anything that would make you keep your identity. So I learned it for a few hours yesterday. None of the designs are good enough yet." His tone sounded sheepish.

"You have been avoiding me because you were designing me a crown?" Disbelief filled her voice.

"I did not want you to see the designs until they were ready."

Her heart twisted slightly at his words, her anger dissipating almost entirely, "You idiot."

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