Chapter 192: How Not to Host a Luncheon (According to a Lazy Demon King; Do Not Wake Him Up From Slumber)
Chapter 192: How Not to Host a Luncheon (According to a Lazy Demon King; Do Not Wake Him Up From Slumber)
Elyn’s POV
"—But isn’t the luncheon for you all to get to know me?"
The question had barely settled into the silence when the sharp sound of glass striking wood cut through the hall.
Zorathys had dropped his wineglass onto the table. He placed it down with enough force to remind everyone in the room that he could shatter it if he wished.
Every noble in the dining hall froze.
"Why," he asked lazily, "should they try to get to know you?"
I turned my head toward him slowly.
He leaned back in his chair as if this were an afternoon of mild amusement rather than a formal luncheon filled with powerful territorial rulers. One arm draped over the back of his seat. His crimson gaze swept across the table with deliberate disdain.
"You are above them," he continued. "All of them."
A few nobles stiffened.
"The fact that I allowed them into this palace at all," he went on, "is already me being excessively generous. They do not deserve to be in your presence."
If the hall had been silent before, it was now practically reverent in its fear.
I rolled my eyes at his words. What crawled up his ass?
"The rule," I said evenly, "is that these nobles came because of me. This luncheon is because of me."
He looked at me like I had said something deeply unreasonable.
"They have seen your face," he replied. "That is sufficient."
I stared at him.
He leaned forward slightly, his voice dropping into a tone that would have been charming if it were not so obviously dangerous.
"And if they attempt to know anything more about you," he added smoothly, "I will kill them."
The collective tension in the room became visible. Draeven’s fork hovered mid-air. Seraphielle’s smile tightened at the edges. Caleth looked as though he regretted every life choice that had led him here.
I gave Zorathys a long, unimpressed look.
"Do not threaten them."
"I am not threatening them," he said mildly.
"You just promised to kill them."
"I was joking."
"You were not joking."
"I was," he insisted, then turned his head toward the nobles. "You are supposed to laugh."
The nobles immediately burst into nervous, brittle laughter that sounded like someone shaking a bag of fragile bones.
Zorathys frowned.
"Who told you to laugh?"
The laughter died so abruptly that I almost felt sorry for them.
Almost.
I exhaled slowly. "Zorathys."
"Yes?"
"Stop treating your people like scum."
A few nobles blinked at me, as if I had just committed a minor act of treason.
He looked genuinely offended. "I do not treat them like scum."
"You just threatened them."
"I jested."
"You terrorized them."
"They should be resilient."
I pressed my fingers lightly against my temple.
He gestured vaguely down the table. "I am supposed to be asleep right now. Sleeping. Peacefully. Instead, I am here attempting to interact and converse with people who want my downfall by always making me work even when I do not need to."
"You are not conversing," I pointed out. "You are menacing."
He ignored that. "Do you understand what time it is?"
"Yes."
"I do not function at this hour."
"You function perfectly well."
"I am suffering."
I could not help it.
I chuckled.
The sound seemed to shock more people than his earlier death promise.
He narrowed his eyes at me. "You find my exhaustion amusing?"
"I understand now," I said lightly. "You are behaving like this because you are tired."
And that wasn’t a surprise. I should have known from the beginning, actually.
His expression shifted into something dangerously close to sulking.
"I am not behaving like anything."
"You are grumpy."
"I am regal."
"You are grumpy and regal."
He grumbled something under his breath that sounded suspiciously like a curse directed at daylight itself, then lifted his wine and took a slow sip.
I straightened in my chair and turned back to the nobles with what I hoped was a reassuring smile.
"As you can see," I began politely, "Zorathys is tired. He would very much like to return to sleep... though I don’t understand how that’s going to happen, seeing as we’ll be having the ball in a few hours..."
"Thanks for reminding me about it," Zorathys grumbled.
I smiled widely. "You are welcome, Zor."
Zorathys rolled his eyes, and I turned back to the nobles, who were watching me.
"As I was saying, let us not prolong this. Please—ask whatever questions you wish to ask me," I told them.
The silence that followed was heavy.
They looked at me.
Then at him.
Then back at me.
As if calculating survival odds.
Finally—slowly—Caleth raised his hand.
Actually raised it like we were in a classroom.
Zorathys’s gaze snapped toward him, and Caleth’s hand dropped so quickly it almost hit the table.
I turned to Zorathys.
"Do not threaten people."
"I did not threaten anyone."
"You glared at him."
"I looked at him."
"You glared."
"I observed him intensely."
"That is the same thing."
"It is not."
Caleth stared very hard at his plate.
I leaned slightly toward him. "You may speak," I encouraged gently.
He hesitated.
His eyes flicked toward Zorathys again.
I followed his gaze.
Zorathys sat there, wineglass in hand, his expression perfectly neutral.
Too neutral.
I knew that look.
"Zorathys," I warned quietly.
"What?" he asked innocently.
"You are doing it again."
"I am sitting."
"You are intimidating."
"I am existing."
"You are existing aggressively," I told him.
"I am a demon. Are you expecting me not to exist aggressively?" he asked.
"You could try to be less," I told him.
He smiled at me. "Firefly, that’s not happening, and please, can we hear what the Duke of the Thalassar territory is about to ask?"
His gaze locked with Caleth, who swallowed nervously.
Before Zorathys’s look could evolve into something catastrophic, I leaned toward him and immediately used my hands to cover his eyes, making all the nobles’ eyes widen in shock except Ignivar, who was still eating peacefully.