Chapter 135: ’My Wife Will Be Presiding Over This Case’
Chapter 135: ’My Wife Will Be Presiding Over This Case’
Elyn’s POV
After that conversation with Seraphielle, I moved to my room, and thankfully, Vaelory and Rin arrived just in time to help me change out of my clothes. I’d been wearing this dress for hours now, and it stank of sweat and had remnants of juice all over it.
Zorathys had offered to just get rid of the stain with his magic, but I just didn’t want to be in the clothes anymore.
I settled for something practical, and once more, Rin was delighted that I had chosen to go with pants. She picked out a dark clouted one for me and a long-sleeved shirt the color of deep ash. The shirt was plain but well-made, fitted enough to look intentional without being constricting, the cuffs snug around my wrists.
Vaelory wove my hair back tightly, fingers moving out of habit, braiding it close to my scalp so it wouldn’t get in my way.
I picked up a pair of earrings. I was the queen-to-be, and I should look and act the part at all times after all. Imagine dishing out punishment to those traffickers while looking like a beggar—I couldn’t do that. My reputation was on the line here.
I had to watch as Zorathys punished the offenders while looking in peak form. I took a look in the mirror, and I looked fabulous. Coming to this world just made me more beautiful than I could have ever imagined.
By the time I stepped out, Marrok was already waiting.
He straightened immediately when he saw me, wings shifting behind him in a disciplined, almost military way.
"My lady," he said, bowing deeply. "If you would follow me."
I nodded. "Lead the way."
The path to the dungeon was not one I had used before, and it also wasn’t one that Marrok had showed me when he gave me a tour.
We descended through corridors that grew colder with every step, the air thickening, heavy with something I couldn’t place. It wasn’t awful, though. The walls here were not as beautiful as the rest of the castle.
Torches burned with blue-black flames, casting long, distorted shadows that crawled along the floor and ceiling. The only thing that could be heard as we made our way further down was the sound of our breathing and our steps.
The dungeon opened up into a vast chamber, circular in shape, with iron walkways crossing above a sunken floor carved with sigils I didn’t recognize. Cells lined the walls, some sealed shut with bars forged from enchanted metal, others formed entirely of magic—translucent barriers shimmering faintly.
One cell stood open, and I knew from the pained moans I heard coming from there that that was where I needed to be.
I walked into it without hesitation.
Everyone inside looked up immediately when I did.
Zorathys was the first I registered because he demanded attention even just sleeping. He stood near the center of the cell, one hand rubbing aggressively at his eyes as he tried—and failed—to stifle a yawn. It stretched his jaw wide, sharp teeth flashing briefly.
Naviel stood a little to the side, arms crossed, posture rigid. There was a frown on his beautiful face, one I suspected was there because he was back in the castle a few hours after he had been told to rest.
Ignivar wasn’t present, though. I had no idea why.
Morthen was there too, adjusting his glasses as he surveyed the prisoners with a frown as well. The lenses caught the torchlight as he pushed them up the bridge of his nose, eyes flicking constantly. I’m sure he was trying to make sense of why he was here.
And then there were the frozen ones.
Six nobles stood in a line, immobilized by magic so precise it was almost elegant. Their arms were locked at their sides, fingers stiff, expressions caught mid-emotion—rage, fear, disbelief.
Five of them were beast demons.
The first was massive, broad-shouldered, with the head of a horned bull and fur the color of dried blood. His hooves were cracked, his nostrils flared uselessly, breath fogging faintly in the cold air.
Beside him stood another beast demon with the lean, predatory build of a panther. His body was sleek, muscles coiled beneath dark fur, eyes frozen in a furious glare that promised violence if he ever moved again.
The third was a hybrid—his face unmistakably that of an ant, mandibles locked in place, multifaceted eyes dull with frozen panic. His body, however, was that of a centipede, segmented and long, dozens of legs locked mid-curl beneath him. He too was a beast demon—and a noble.
The fourth was avian—wings pinned uselessly behind him, feathers mottled in gray and black. His talons twitched faintly despite the spell, beak slightly open as if he’d been mid-argument when time stopped for him.
The fifth beast demon was Baron Ulreth of the Mirekin Scarab-Beast Demons, Lady Grivessa’s father. What a small world.
The other two were not beast demons, though.
One was a stone demon. A golem, according to what Zorathys had told me. He was a colossal figure carved from living stone, his body formed of layered slate and dark granite veined with faint, ember-like lines. He stood broader than most of the demons present. Two eyes burned within the stone—dull gold, steady and watchful, like molten metal sealed behind rock.
The others who were in the shop had been taken into custody too. Therion and his people, who had been the ones kidnapping the children.
I stepped up beside Zorathys, close enough that our shoulders nearly touched. He only gave me a look, then nodded.
"Are you ready?" I asked him.
He yawned, then rubbed his eyes sleepily. "I am, but we need one more person," he told me.
I frowned, wondering who else could be coming.
Naviel adjusted his glasses. "Are you sure he’s going to come?" he asked Zorathys.
Zorathys shrugged. "I don’t know," he told him.
"Did you even call him?" Naviel asked.
"I blew up half his castle. That’s enough to make him come," Zorathys replied.
I turned in shock. "Why would you even do that?" I asked, even if I had no idea who it was that we were waiting for.
"Because if I had just called him or sent for him, he wouldn’t come," Zorathys said.
"And you think destroying his castle would make him show up?" I asked.
Zorathys nodded.
I turned to Naviel with wide eyes. "Please tell me what he said isn’t true."
"But it is," Naviel said, adjusting his glasses. "And I like that he destroyed part of the castle. Do tell me you also destroyed the greenhouse he loves so much."
"What? Naviel, you are better than this. You cannot be encouraging Zorathys to do something like that. And besides, why would he even destroy a place the... whoever we are talking about likes?" I asked.
Zorathys nodded in agreement, and I knew just from the action that he was going to say something stupid—but a small part of me hoped differently.
"What do you take me for, Naviel?" he asked, and I almost sang praises.
But then he smiled. How he was able to pull off sleepy, handsome bastard, I had no idea.
"I destroyed the greenhouse and the paintings he has of his ex," Zorathys said.
Naviel smiled too, all thoughts about being here when he should have been at home resting fleeing out the window.
"Let’s come up with other places to destroy next time. I’ll gladly work with you," Naviel told him.
Zorathys nodded.
I sighed, choosing to pick my battles because there was no way I could convince them after all.
I doubted that destroying a person’s house would make them show up. We waited for over thirty minutes, and I started doubting that he would show up, but then I heard footsteps.
They sounded angry, and Naviel’s smile widened. He even chuckled darkly.
Everyone except Zorathys turned as he entered the dungeons.
He wore a tailored suit—dark, expensive fabric cut perfectly to accommodate a non-human body. His head was that of a lion, mane pulled back neatly, features severe. At first glance, he looked fully beast.
But if one stared long enough, he looked faintly human. Advanced, yes—but human nonetheless.
The structure of his skull was almost humanoid beneath the fur. Antler-like horns curved back from his head. A thick snake tail coiled behind him, scales dark and glossy. His hands, however, were entirely human, fingers long and expressive, clenched tightly at his sides.
He scowled openly, golden eyes hard with barely restrained fury.
Zorathys straightened slightly, the fatigue slipping just enough to allow amusement through.
"Nice of you to finally show up," he drawled.
"You destroyed my greenhouse," he gritted out in anger.
Zorathys smiled, ignoring the demon, then turned to me.
"Firefly, this is Duke Kaelthar Virelion, ruler of the beast territory—and the same demon who can’t rule over his territory like the others can."
Kaelthar’s gaze snapped to me, sharp and assessing.
"And who," he demanded, "is this?"
Zorathys smiled.
"My wife," he said. "And she’ll be the one presiding over this trafficking case that you were aware of but decided to overlook. And depending on what happens, your greenhouse may be restored."
He paused, tilting his head in faint amusement.
"...or not."