Chapter 99: The King Who Slept While the Realm Worked
Chapter 99: The King Who Slept While the Realm Worked
Elyn’s POV
I stared at Zorathys like I was seeing him for the first time.
It was absurd how much I stared at him, and with so much intensity too. And there was a reason, to be honest. It was because there was no world—no realm, no plane of existence—where those pyjamas should have worked.
Blue fabric, floating Zorathys motifs hugging body pillows, little embroidered wings here and there like some cursed merchandise line. It was ridiculous. Completely and absolutely ridiculous, and it was in no way what anyone would even imagine a demon king like Zorathys wearing. It was something that should have ruined a man’s image permanently.
And yet.
On Zorathys, it looked... fine.
Worse—it looked right. As though the universe itself had collectively shrugged and decided that yes, the Demon King sleeping on his bed while wearing printed sleepwear, with a sleeping cap on his head too and hugging his body pillow, was perfectly acceptable and not at all something that would haunt me forever.
But I shouldn’t concentrate on how much this looked like it fit Zorathys. That wasn’t why I was here.
I lifted my gaze from his clothes to his face and gave him a sweet smile—the kind that meant I am being polite, but I am also seconds away from violence.
Zorathys blinked at me with half-lidded eyes, his expression heavy with sleep and entirely too calm for someone who had left people to die from overwork.
"Yes?" he asked, voice rough, like he’d just been dragged out of a very good dream.
"How is it," I asked carefully, "that you get to sleep peacefully in the early morning while I work?"
He yawned.
Not a polite one. Not even a subtle one. A full, unapologetic yawn that showed far too many perfect teeth for my liking.
"You’re the one who wants to work," he said, rubbing at his eyes. "I don’t do work in the mornings. Mornings are for sleeping in."
I stared at him.
"And you think I don’t want to sleep in?" I asked him.
"I don’t know, do you? You seem eager to work," he told me.
"Zorathys, I’m doing the work because you obviously refuse to do it. You don’t even care about the work you have to do."
He shrugged his shoulders unapologetically. "Firefly, you like working. You are hardworking. I don’t like working."
I glared at him, but he avoided my gaze conveniently.
To be honest, perhaps he was right. Perhaps I was too used to how much work Karen had put me through that I couldn’t just stay without working, especially when the person who was supposed to be doing the work was extremely lazy. So much for the soft life I planned.
I pinched the bridge of my nose and took a breath. "Zorathys."
"Yes, firefly?"
"What is going on with Ignivar and Naviel?"
That finally got his attention.
His brows drew together, confusion settling into his features as he studied my face. "What do you mean?"
"Naviel collapsed in my office," I said flatly. "He begged me to come get you."
Zorathys didn’t even look alarmed.
"That... actually happened?" he asked.
It wasn’t like he was shocked or anything. It was more like he found it difficult to believe that something like that happened.
"Yes," I told him. "He’s currently on the couch in my office."
He stared at me for a long moment, clearly recalculating something in his head. "That’s strange."
I crossed my arms. "Strange how?"
"I only gave them a little work to do, not enough to make him collapse."
I blinked. "Small?"
"Yes."
"Zorathys," I said slowly, "Naviel looks like he’s minutes away from death."
He shrugged. "Too bad."
"Too bad?" I asked him. "Is that all you have to say?"
"It’s not my fault that he collapsed from so little work," Zorathys told me.
"So little work?" I asked him in disbelief. "If the work really was so little, then there’s no way he would have collapsed."
"Then maybe he’s just weak," Zorathys said with a shrug.
I exhaled deeply.
"You know what?" I asked him.
"What?"
"Get up," I said. "Change out of your clothes and come with me."
He looked at me like I’d just suggested treason.
"Why?"
"Because whatever Naviel and Ignivar are doing, they are clearly dying," I snapped, "and since you said it is so little work, then maybe you should be the one working instead and not them."
"But it’s not my work," he said. "Why do I need to go?"
"Because they need you."
"They don’t need me," he said calmly. "It’s something simple that they can do alone."
"I don’t care," I replied, stepping closer. "The best thing you can do right now is follow me."
"I’m sleepy."
I laughed once, sharp and humorless. "I’m sleepy too."
"I’m tired."
"Get in line."
He blinked.
"I’ve been working since morning," I continued. "I have more right to complain about being tired than you do."
He gave me a look and yawned again. "It’s not my fault you want to work."
I glared at him with enough force to scorch stone.
He sighed dramatically, like I’d just informed him the world was ending and he personally had to fix it.
And then the pyjamas shifted.
The fabric dissolved into shadow and silk-like darkness, the sleeping hat vanishing first, then the ridiculous prints. His body pillow dropped gently onto the bed as his attire reformed into his usual black, loose-fitting clothes—elegant, effortless, unmistakably him.
I smiled. "Use the door."
He shot the door a glare like it had personally offended him, then stepped forward and vanished through it anyway.
I followed.
We reappeared in my office, and the sight that greeted us made my stomach tighten.
Naviel lay face-down on the couch, unmoving.
Zorathys immediately gave him a nasty look.
Then he snapped his fingers.
Reality folded.
In an instant, the office vanished, replaced by another—larger, messier, drowning in parchment and reports. Papers littered the floor like fallen leaves. Desks were buried. Shelves overflowed.
Everyone appeared at once.
Vaelory stumbled slightly. Rin yelped. Azerion landed badly on his feet and glared at Zorathys, while Morthen barely reacted at all.
Naviel landed face-flat on a pile of documents with a soft, exhausted groan.
I shot Zorathys a glare for how badly he made him land.
He pretended not to see it.
Shadow demons were slumped against the walls, eyes dull with exhaustion. Some sat on the floor. Others leaned wherever they could find support.
But one thing stood out.
"Ignivar isn’t here," I said.
Zorathys glanced around. "Hmm."
I turned to him sharply. "What work did you give them that every demon in this room looks like they’ve been dragged through—"
"...the Hellfire Territory?" Rin supplied.
"Yes."
"I didn’t give them work per se," Zorathys told me. "They simply had work to do. It was within their jurisdiction."
I stared at him.
Then I turned slowly, scanning the room again.
"Where’s Ignivar?"
There was a pause.
Then, from behind one of the desks buried under stacks of parchment, a faint, parched voice spoke up.
"I’m here."