Chapter 149: A Child with Wings and Opinions
Chapter 149: A Child with Wings and Opinions
Elyn’s POV
Oh my days! The little girl holding Seraphielle’s hand was cute, extremely so. She reminded me of Azerion a bit.
My heart almost stopped. The sheer... energy radiating from her was unlike anything I had experienced. Even from this distance, I could feel it: sharp, curious, unfiltered. And overwhelmingly... cute.
I crouched down, trying to meet her at her height. "Hello," I said gently. "What’s your name?"
Her eyes—vivid, deep purple orbs that seemed to glint with both mischief and intelligence—blinked at me. Her magenta hair, arranged in a messy yet deliberate updo, bobbed slightly as she smiled. Tiny flowers were woven into the strands, and the way the light caught them made her look like she had been plucked straight from a blooming garden. Short purple wings fluttered lightly behind her back, struggling to contain her energy. Small horns, white at the base fading into purple, peeked out from her hairline, just big enough to remind you she was no ordinary child. She clutched a small stuffed bunny to her chest, gripping it like a shield or a talisman.
"I’m Velira," she said proudly, puffing up her little chest.
I laughed softly. "Velira... that’s a lovely name. And you’re... very cute."
Seraphielle’s eyes glinted dangerously—or perhaps lustfully, it was hard to tell. She leaned slightly forward, a faint smile tugging at her lips... I’m going with lustfully.
"Do you like her?" she asked me, her voice smooth.
"Yes," I admitted, still crouched. "She’s... very cute."
And just as the words left my mouth, Azerion appeared. Like a shadow springing from nowhere, he planted himself between Velira and me. His small arms spread wide, his blue eyes narrowing into dangerous slits. A hiss escaped his lips, low and warning.
Velira paused, staring up at him with a look of disgust. Then, clearly unimpressed, she frowned, wrinkling her little nose. "Mama," she said, turning back to Seraphielle, "who’s that ugly boy?"
Oh... Velira was Seraphielle’s daughter?
Azerion hissed again, louder this time, a sound. My mouth fell open slightly, half from shock and half from trying not to laugh.
I straightened, brushing imaginary dust from my clothes. "Seraphielle," I called out. "Is she your daughter?"
But before she could answer, Velira puffed up her chest even more. "Yes, Your Highness, she’s my mama!" she said proudly. "And my mama is the most beautiful woman in the realm, and she can teach you how to dance too! She’s a very good dancer!"
I blinked. I wasn’t entirely sure how to respond to being critiqued on my dancing by a child I hadn’t met five minutes ago. I opened my mouth to say something when Vaelory snorted loudly from where she stood.
"It’s not about the dancer," Vaelory said with barely restrained laughter. "It’s about the queen herself. She can’t dance to save her life."
"I can’t get the hopping out of my head," Rin said, chuckling too.
"Me neither, that’s the worst from her that I’ve seen," Vaelory said, laughing.
"Haha, laugh at my misery," I told them, making them laugh again.
Even Morthen chuckled, but he did it with class, unlike the two clowns currently leaning into each other like they were friends. Were they not the same people who had given each other space like the other was the plague?
Velira, undeterred, tugged at Seraphielle’s hand with surprising strength for her size. She began leading her mother straight toward me, dragging Seraphielle with the sort of authority only children seemed to have over grown adults. Seraphielle’s cheeks flushed a delicate pink, her usually composed posture slightly undone, and I could see the faint tremor of embarrassment—but she was also smiling, which told me she enjoyed what it was Velira was doing right now.
But Azerion was not about to let her pass. He planted himself firmly, arms spread in an immovable blockade. Velira pushed against him once. Nothing. Twice. Still nothing.
Velira finally exclaimed, crossing her small arms over her chest, wings flaring slightly with irritation. "Why are you standing in my way?"
"Who do you think you are," Azerion snapped, voice firm, "to just march up to the queen?"
Velira’s little hands went to her hips, elbows out, stance wide. "And who do you think you are to stop me from leading my mama to the queen?"
Azerion froze. The blue of his eyes deepened, slitting further. "I am the queen’s partner," he said, chest puffed out just slightly.
Velira laughed—high-pitched, gleeful, and completely unafraid. "That’s not possible! My mama is the queen’s partner!"
I bit the inside of my cheek to stop myself from laughing outright. The scene before me—Azerion, the royal guard and nearly indestructible partner of the queen, flanked by a tiny, fierce child with wings and horns, arguing about authority—was absurd in a way that only the demon realm could produce.
"Velira," Seraphielle said softly, "be careful. You cannot simply challenge every demon who stands in your path."
Velira rolled her eyes dramatically. "Mama, he’s not a demon. He’s just a boy," she said with confidence.
Azerion let out a loud hiss at that. "I am not a boy," he told her.
Velira gave him a once-over. "Well, you look like one, and you have frosting all over your face like a child."
"And you have chubby cheeks like a child and hold a teddy bear," Azerion told her back.
Velira stomped her legs at his audacity. "I am not a child. And the teddy is my best friend."
"Only a child will have a teddy as a best friend," Azerion told her.
"You are just mad because you don’t have a teddy," Velira told him.
"I don’t want a teddy. I have the queen already; she’s my partner," Azerion told her.
Velira rolled her eyes at him. "You really think like a child. Why do you think the queen will have someone like you as a partner? Mama is the queen’s partner, and that’s final."
The fact that both of them were wrong and the rest of us were just staring at them arguing was funny. Velira was no longer holding her mother’s hand and was instead arguing with Azerion, who was also arguing with her about who my partner was.
"Can you guys please keep your voice down? I’m having a headache," I heard a very familiar, very tired voice say with a loud yawn.