I Just Wanted A Soft Life, Not A Demon Husband

Chapter 150: Flop-Flips, Nuisances, and Dance Lessons

Elyn’s POV

Zorathys appeared along with his shadows. I already knew he was going to show up after I heard him speak, so I wasn’t really surprised—at least not by the fact that he appeared, but by what he was wearing... I was shocked.

He was rubbing his eyes sleepily, his earrings bobbing with movement, his long hair falling over his shoulders in soft waves, drifting slightly as he moved.

And no, that wasn’t what I was referring to when I said I was shocked. Rather, it was what he was wearing on his feet. Something I never thought even existed in the demon realm—or in this world at all.

Flip-flops.

Yes. Flip-flops. The demon king, the ruler of an entire realm, the most terrifyingly beautiful and commanding being I had ever seen, was wearing flip-flops. And I swear my jaw almost hit the floor.

"...Are those... flip-flops?" I asked, my voice pitched somewhere between disbelief and horror.

Zorathys tilted his head, giving me a look that made it clear he thought I was being ridiculous. His gaze dropped to his legs, and I noticed them for the first time—long, flawless, impossibly smooth, the sort of legs that looked like they had been sculpted out of moonlight and silk. Every muscle perfectly formed, every toe neatly manicured. Even the arches were divine.

Again, was there something in the air in this realm that made them utterly beautiful? They looked like gods rather than demons.

Zorathys raised an eyebrow and asked, dead serious, "Is that another name for them? I thought they were called flop-flips."

I froze, blinking at him, then chuckled because obviously it had to be a joke, right?

But then I noticed the look on his face... again. Was he actually serious? His perfectly arched eyebrows, his slightly narrowed eyes, and the complete absence of any smirk suggested he genuinely did not understand the concept of... flip-flops.

And I realized then, once more, that if this world didn’t really have carpenters, it could be possible that flip-flops were referred to as flop-flips instead.

"...No," I said slowly, shaking my head. "Uh... that’s my mistake. They are called flip-flops, not flop-flips. You... you weren’t wrong. I just..." I waved vaguely. "Made a mistake."

He didn’t blink. He just adjusted his posture, crossing his arms lightly, and said with absolute calm, "They are very comfortable. And besides, I only woke up because apparently two children were attempting to claim you as their partners."

I followed his gaze. Seraphielle’s head was bowed low. I hadn’t noticed it before, but her posture now screamed deference, obedience, or perhaps fear. Velira, seeing her mother bow, promptly mirrored her. Small wings drooping slightly, she mimicked the gesture with the kind of precision only a child raised around royalty could.

Zorathys gave a single hand signal—a slow upward motion. Seraphielle’s head snapped up immediately, spine straightening like a whip had cracked behind her shoulders.

"Children," Zorathys muttered, almost to himself, "are one thing. But there is one more nuisance in the palace, especially when I am trying to rest."

I frowned. Nuisance? The two children? They were... children. Not nuisances. "They are children, Zorathys. Not nuisances."

He gave me a look, then yawned. "...Those two words are synonymous, Firefly."

"No, they are not."

He tilted his head again, expression unreadable, and replied, "They are. Children wreck havoc, which makes them nuisances."

Azerion stepped forward, obviously not thrilled at being insulted by Zorathys. "I do not wreck havoc," he said firmly.

Zorathys glanced at him, unimpressed. "...Your kind are havoc-wreckers. It is impossible for you not to wreck havoc."

I glanced at Azerion. The little boy looked like he wanted to protest, but I could see him cursing silently under his breath at the simple truth in Zorathys’ words.

Zorathys’ gaze finally swept across the room, settling on Seraphielle. "And you," he said softly, his voice smooth but edged with authority, "what are you doing here?"

Before she could respond, Velira piped up, her little arms gesturing grandly. "Mama is going to teach the queen to dance!"

I blinked in shock.

"Dance?" Zorathys echoed, the single word a mixture of confusion, amusement, and disbelief. Velira nodded eagerly.

He turned his piercing gaze to me. "...And you... need someone to teach you to dance?"

I wanted to curl up under the nearest table and pretend I didn’t exist. My face went warm, but before I could stammer out a reply, Rin’s voice cut through the tension.

"The queen cannot dance," Rin said, barely holding back a laugh.

Zorathys’ eyes widened slightly, his sleepy eyes looking like they had just woken up a bit. He was intrigued, I could see it in his eyes.

"Really, Firefly? You cannot dance?" he asked me with a smile.

I nodded. "It appears so. And it’s just that I can’t dance in reality, but in my head, I can."

Zorathys chuckled. "I’d love to see you dance in reality, Firefly, and not in your head."

I glared at him. "You are joking, right?" I asked him, but he shook his head and settled against his shadows, which had now formed a chair behind him.

"Not in the slightest. If I’m being awakened from sleep by these nuisances—"

"Children, you mean," I corrected him.

He gave me a look. "Wasn’t that what I just said?" he asked me.

"You said nuisance. Nuisance isn’t the same as children."

He rolled his eyes at me. "We’ve gone over this, Firefly. If they can wreck havoc, then they are nuisances. Just because you think they look cute doesn’t change that."

I rolled my eyes at that, knowing there was no way I was winning the argument. Not even a little bit.

"Anyway, as I was saying, would you at least show me how you dance in reality and not in your head?" he asked me.

"Honestly, I’m not sure I want to show you how I dance. You settled on a date for the ball without my knowledge," I told him.

Zorathys stiffened then. "Me?" He asked, his words and face full of innocence. "I had no idea we had been agreed on a date."