I Just Wanted A Soft Life, Not A Demon Husband

Chapter 249: Of Stamps Given Freely, Arguments That Go Nowhere, and Visitors at the Door

Elyn’s POV

I stared at the documents in my hand for a moment longer than necessary.

I exhaled slowly and walked back to my desk.

The chair slid softly as I pulled it out and sat down, the familiar weight of responsibility settling over me whether I wanted it or not.

Ignivar and Naviel stood before me now, with gratitude in their eyes. Like I was some savior sent from above to help them... well, maybe I was.

Zorathys, on the other hand, had already lost interest.

I could feel it without even looking at him.

I placed the documents neatly on the desk and smoothed them out with my palm.

The parchment was warm.

Or maybe that was just my imagination.

I reached for the seal.

Not his.

Mine.

Well... not officially mine, but at this point, it might as well be.

There was a brief pause.

A very brief one.

Then I pressed it down firmly.

At least with this, work could officially begin in the mines.

I lifted the seal and set it aside, then gathered the documents and handed them back.

"Here," I said.

Ignivar blinked.

Naviel blinked.

Then both of them moved at once, taking the documents carefully, like I had just handed them something far more valuable than paper and ink.

They bowed deeply.

"Your Highness," Ignivar said, his voice steady but laced with relief, "thank you for your kindness."

Naviel followed immediately. "We are truly grateful."

I smiled.

It wasn’t anything grand.

Just a small, simple smile.

"It’s fine," I said. "It needed to be done."

And that was the truth.

Zorathys shifted then.

"You’re both behaving," he drawled lazily, "as though I am not kind to you."

There was a pause.

Naviel’s face changed.

It was quick—so quick that if I had blinked, I would have missed it. It was filled with disgust, and it was a very ugly look on a beautiful demon.

But just as quickly as it appeared, it was gone.

Just like that.

Replaced by a polite smile.

"Yes, Your Majesty," Naviel said smoothly. "You are... very kind."

I almost choked.

Zorathys gave a fake smile.

"Ha."

He paused.

"Ha."

I closed my eyes briefly.

He sounded deeply unconvinced.

"Get out," he said, waving a hand dismissively.

They did not hesitate.

Ignivar and Naviel bowed once more—this time faster—and turned, leaving the office with the efficiency of two demons who had just narrowly escaped something very dangerous.

The door shut behind them.

Silence followed.

I leaned back slightly in my chair as Zorathys turned his attention to me.

"Now that that has been resolved," he said, "you should spend the rest of the day with me."

I looked at him.

"No."

He blinked, and I swear it looked like it happened in slow motion.

"We haven’t seen each other for days," he said.

"We saw each other at the introductory ball," I replied.

"That does not count."

I raised a brow.

"It does."

"It doesn’t," he said flatly. "After that, you have been spending your time with... irrelevant beings."

I paused.

Slowly, I looked at him, my gaze locked onto his ruby eyes.

"Do you mean," I asked carefully, "the children I’ve been spending time with?"

He shrugged.

Like it didn’t matter.

Like they didn’t matter.

Something in me twitched.

"At least the children," I said, my voice calm, "do not run away from their work."

Zorathys looked at me.

"I do not run away from my work."

I raised a brow.

He held my gaze.

"I really don’t," he added.

I said nothing. I just stared at him because there was no way he really expected me to believe that, right? The reason he was currently in my office was because he had run away from work, after all.

He exhaled tiredly like it took too much out of him to even do that.

"I simply do not work if I do not feel like it."

I blinked.

"That," I said, "is every day."

He nodded.

"Yes."

I stared at him.

I did not know whether to be impressed by the honesty or deeply concerned by it.

"There is nothing relaxing about work," he continued, as though explaining something obvious to a child. "Nothing enjoyable. I do not understand why you derive joy from it."

"I don’t derive joy from it," I said immediately.

He looked unconvinced.

"I do it," I continued, "because if I don’t, it piles up."

I gestured vaguely toward the stacks of unfinished work.

"Then it becomes a problem later. A bigger one. One that gives me a headache I could have avoided."

Zorathys listened.

Or at least, he appeared to.

Then he tilted his head.

"That," he said, "is because you are upright."

I blinked.

"...What?"

"You think too far ahead," he continued lazily. "You create problems that do not yet exist."

I stared at him.

"The work exists," I said.

"Not for me," he replied.

I opened my mouth.

Closed it.

Opened it again.

"For me," he continued, "work should be done when it feels like it should be done."

I felt something inside me crack.

"And no one," he added, "should spend more than thirty minutes doing it."

Only Zorathys.

Only him.

Only this demon would believe something like that and say it with his full chest like it made perfect sense.

"You cannot be serious."

"When it comes to matters like this, I am always serious."

The issue was that he was saying all this with a straight face.

"You are unbelievable," I said, rubbing a hand across my temple.

He was about to reply when suddenly there was a knock at the door.

"Go away," Zorathys drawled at the same time I told whoever was at the door to come in.

I glared at him, and he pretended not to see me.

"Morthen, open the door," I said.

Morthen looked frozen in shock. He turned to me and then back to Zorathys, and then back to me again.

"If you don’t open the door, then your antennae can say goodbye," I told him firmly.

He swallowed nervously, then turned to Zorathys, who pretended like Morthen wasn’t looking at him. Zorathys’ gaze was on me.

"Firefly," he drawled, "that was very demon-like of you."

I ignored him, my gaze on Morthen, who was still rooted to the floor.