Chapter 158: The Date Nobody Set (Apparently), Naviel And Zorathys Are Not Really Good At Pretnding
Chapter 158: The Date Nobody Set (Apparently), Naviel And Zorathys Are Not Really Good At Pretending
Zorathys’s eyes widened the moment he saw Naviel standing in the doorway.
For a fraction of a second, the Demon King looked genuinely startled—an expression so rare on his face that it might as well have been classified as a historical event. His shadows reacted before his dignity did, rippling along the walls like startled living things, stretching and recoiling as though they had not expected to be caught mid-conspiracy.
Naviel, meanwhile, stood perfectly composed.
His posture was straight, his white suit immaculate, his glasses balanced neatly on the bridge of his nose. If not for the faint crease between his brows, one might have thought he had planned this interruption down to the exact second.
"What," Zorathys asked slowly, staring at him, "are you doing here, Naviel, my friend, who is also an assistant that works with me and that I take care of very much?"
Naviel frowned. He wondered why Zorathys was speaking that way. And if he was trying to tell Naviel something, then Naviel was sure Zorathys had failed at that. And besides, since when did Zorathys outright call him a friend? And taking care of him? Zorathys took care of no one except his room and his shadows... actually, the shadows took care of themselves. They had minds of their own most times, and Zorathys let them roam free.
"I am very confused by that, Your Majesty," Naviel said, adjusting his glasses. "I heard Her Highness asking for me, and I had something to tell you, so I came here."
Elyn, who had been watching the exchange with narrowed eyes, turned her attention fully to Naviel.
"I thought you were sleeping," she said.
Naviel’s frown deepened. "Sleeping..."
He turned his gaze—slowly, deliberately—toward Zorathys.
The look he gave him was not loud. It did not need to be.
It was the look of a demon who had just realized he had been volunteered as an excuse.
Zorathys cleared his throat.
Behind him, his shadows twisted subtly, forming quick, sharp gestures only Naviel could see. A pointed flick toward the floor. A sharp curl inward. A very clear play along or suffer later.
Naviel blinked once.
Then he nodded in understanding.
"Oh," he said suddenly, his tone shifting. "Yes, yes, Your Highness, sleeping... I was sleeping. I was sleeping like a child who had just been birthed by a very tired mother. Yes, I was sleeping."
Elyn raised an eyebrow at him. It was very obvious to her that he was lying and just trying to go along with what Zorathys had told him to do.
"So if you were sleeping like a child who has just been birthed by a very tired mother," she asked, "what are you doing in the palace then?"
Naviel answered smoothly, not even blinking an eye. "I remembered there was something urgent I needed to attend to, so I came to the palace regardless." He lifted a hand to cover his mouth and yawned—long, dramatic, and completely unconvincing. "I’m still quite sleepy, as you can see."
Zorathys visibly relaxed.
Elyn did not.
"Don’t move," she said sharply.
Naviel froze mid-step.
"...Pardon?"
"Not another step," Elyn repeated, her gaze unwavering. "You’ll survive standing where you are."
Naviel slowly lowered his foot back to the ground.
Zorathys winced.
Elyn turned fully to face Naviel, folding her arms. "Now," she said, "tell me what you know about the date of the introductory ball."
Naviel hesitated.
Just barely.
Then his eyes flicked—very briefly—toward Zorathys.
Elyn stepped forward.
The movement was small, but it carried weight.
"If you so much as glance at Zorathys one more time," she said calmly, "or at his shadows, or at the wall behind him where his shadows might be pretending not to listen, I will make sure your pretty face becomes nonexistent—so nonexistent that even Vaelory will not find you attractive."
Naviel swallowed nervously. He did not care about Vaelory, but he did care about his pretty face.
Zorathys lifted his hands in surrender. "I’m not doing anything."
"Just like how I’m not speaking, right?" Elyn asked him with an eye roll.
"But I’m really not—"
"Shut up, Zorathys," she told him, and he mimed zipping his mouth.
She turned back to Naviel. "What do you know about the date of the ball?" she asked.
"The date," Naviel said carefully, keeping his eyes firmly on Elyn, "has already been set."
Elyn’s lips pressed into a thin line. "By whom?"
Naviel adjusted his glasses. "I don’t know."
Zorathys coughed—loudly—to disguise the way his thumb shot up in approval.
Elyn’s gaze did not waver. "Do you take me for a fool?"
Naviel stiffened.
"I know," Elyn continued, her voice even but sharp, "that someone between the two of you set that date. And I know it was done without informing me. So I will ask again—who did it?"
Naviel’s jaw tightened.
"I was informed of the date by the gargoyles," he said slowly. "They reported that it had been finalized."
"And you didn’t ask who finalized it?" Elyn asked.
Naviel hesitated.
"That is... not unusual," he said carefully. "I am not in charge of finalizing things like this, after all."
Elyn stared at him for a long moment.
Then she turned to Zorathys.
"How," she asked flatly, "does no one know who set the date for an event this important?"
Zorathys opened his mouth to speak when Elyn spoke up.
"And don’t you dare lie to me. You are the king, so obviously this must have gone through you. You approved it," she told him.
"I don’t approve everything," Zorathys told her.
Naviel supported him. "That’s true. Not everything is approved by the king."
That was a lie, but if they didn’t lie, then Zorathys was going to be in trouble.
"Perhaps," Naviel said, "Ignivar would know."
Both Elyn and Zorathys turned to him.
"He typically oversees scheduling for events of this nature," Naviel continued. "It would make sense if he were the one responsible."
Elyn folded her hands together.
"Really?" she said.
Naviel nodded. "Yes."
She studied him for a moment, then gave a single, decisive nod.
"Then call him."
Naviel and Zorathys spoke at the exact same time.
"He’s asleep."