Chapter 278: Velira’s Flattery, Brixton’s Hug, and the Shadow That Blocked Azerion
Chapter 278: Velira’s Flattery, Brixton’s Hug, and the Shadow That Blocked Azerion
Elyn’s POV
I chuckled at Velira’s dramatics.
She placed the back of her hand against her chest like she was moments away from collapsing onto the palace floor.
"Your Majesty," she said with bright eyes, "please twirl for me."
I blinked.
"What?"
"Please," she repeated. "Your beauty is so overwhelming that if you twirl right now, I may combust into flames like Aziren."
Beside me, Aziren gasped in offence.
"I do not combust," he argued immediately.
"You literally catch fire when excited," Retheris said.
"That only happened once."
"But it did happen," Thalira replied.
Velira ignored all of them and looked at me pleadingly.
"Please twirl."
I laughed softly.
"I am not twirling."
"Just once," she insisted dramatically. "I wish to witness the full elegance of the outfit."
Azerion rolled his eyes beside me.
"You’re doing too much," he muttered.
Velira turned immediately.
"I beg your pardon?"
"We all know the Queen is pretty," Azerion said lazily. "You’re making it sound like you’re the only one with eyes."
Velira narrowed hers at him.
"Shut up. I was not speaking to you."
"I’m standing right next to the Queen," Azerion replied. "I can hear you, so that means you are speaking to me."
Velira scoffed loudly.
"Since when did you become Queen?" Velira asked him.
"I just pointed out that I can hear you. How does that mean I am the Queen?" he asked her.
"Oops, sorry. That’s not what it means. You’re right. It means you were eavesdropping."
"What I said means you are loud."
Velira rolled her eyes at him.
"You’re just jealous because Her Majesty is beautiful."
Azerion looked deeply unimpressed.
"I already know the Queen is beautiful," he said. "Everyone knows that."
"Clearly not enough."
"No," he replied suspiciously. "I know you. You have an ulterior motive."
Velira blinked innocently.
"I do not."
"You do," Azerion insisted. "And whatever your plan is, it won’t work."
"I do not have any ulterior motive," she told him.
I laughed quietly while the two of them continued glaring and arguing with each other.
Honestly, the fact that they could go from nearly being banned from the palace forever to arguing about ulterior motives was impressive.
Or concerning.
Possibly both.
While they argued, Brixton slowly walked toward me.
Unlike the others, he wasn’t loud about it.
He never really was.
He looked as shy as ever, broad shoulders slightly tense, brown hair falling over his forehead as he stopped in front of me.
I smiled immediately.
"Hello, Brixton."
His ears turned slightly red. I didn’t know it was possible for a demon like him.
"Hello, Your Majesty."
He looked like he wanted to say more, but he stopped himself.
I softened a little and opened my arms toward him.
"Do you want a hug too?"
His eyes widened slightly.
Then he nodded once.
"I do."
There was something very earnest about the way he said it that made my chest warm a little.
So I hugged him.
And immediately felt him relax.
"I’m glad you’re here," I told him.
And he nodded against my hold, a smile on his face.
He pulled back and said nothing, but something in his expression had shifted.
"Your Majesty."
I turned and noticed Azerion had materialized at my elbow.
He had abandoned the Velira argument, which meant either he had won it or he had decided something else was more pressing. Given his expression, I suspected the latter.
"Everyone," he said, with the air of someone presenting a formal grievance, "has hugged you."
I raised an eyebrow.
"And?" I said.
"And I didn’t get one," he said.
I stared at him in shock.
This was the pressing matter?
I shook my head as a sigh escaped me.
"Do you need a hug that badly?"
"I wouldn’t be opposed to one," he admitted.
I almost laughed at that.
"Come here then," I said.
He had barely taken two steps when shadows suddenly rose from the ground.
They moved fast.
One second the space between us was clear.
The next, darkness curled upward like smoke solidifying into walls.
Azerion stopped immediately.
Everyone else froze too.
And then Zorathys appeared, shadows twisting slowly behind him.
His clothes matched mine.
Deep black, structured at the shoulders, the fabric catching no light and giving nothing away except at the collar, where a deep burgundy lining showed just at the edges. Almost the same colour as my shirt.
His black hair fell carelessly over his back as always.
And his ruby eyes, those terrible, beautiful ruby eyes, were fixed directly on Azerion with absolute disgust.
"If you think," Zorathys drawled calmly, "that I am going to let you hug my wife, then you have clearly lost your mind."
The silence afterward was immediate.
Azerion blinked slowly.
Then huffed.
"I was only getting one hug."
"One hug too many," Zorathys replied.
"That is selfish."
"Yes."
"At least pretend to feel shame."
"No."
Azerion looked deeply offended by this answer.
Meanwhile, I was still staring at Zorathys because—
First of all.
Wife? We were still engaged and I still wasn’t sure the wedding would hold.
Second of all.
Why did he look like that?
And third of all.
Why had Rin and Vaelory dressed me in colours that matched his?
Was this planned?
Had they planned this?
Those traitors.
Zorathys ignored Azerion completely after that and finally looked at me properly.
And then he went quiet.
His gaze moved slowly over me, enough that warmth immediately crept into my face.
Oh no.
His eyes brightened slightly.
His shadows swayed lazily around him.
I suddenly became extremely aware of my outfit.
Of the neckline.
Of the fitted trousers.
Of the jewelry resting against my chest.
Of the fact that this demon was staring at me like he had personally discovered beauty for the first time in his immortal existence.
His gaze finally lifted back to my face.
Then he spoke.
"I understand now," he said slowly, "why the pests were so determined to hug you."