Chapter 250: Doors That Refuse to Open, Loyalties That Tremble, and Visitors Who Should Not Be Here This Early
Chapter 250: Doors That Refuse to Open, Loyalties That Tremble, and Visitors Who Should Not Be Here This Early
Elyn’s POV
I stared at Morthen.
He stared back at me.
Frozen.
Utterly, completely frozen.
If I didn’t know any better, I would have thought someone had turned him into a statue—but no, statues did not sweat, and Morthen was very clearly sweating.
Which was also surprising because I didn’t know most demons could sweat. Well... there were many things I didn’t know about the demon realm, so it wasn’t surprising that I did not have knowledge about this.
"Morthen," I said slowly, my voice calm in a way that usually meant the opposite, "did I tell you to do something?"
He flinched... hard. And like that day with Vaelory... though this was different, but I was almost certain I saw Morthen’s ghost flee from his body.
If one asked me why I was seeing these things, I wouldn’t be able to explain because I was also confused as to why I was seeing weird things like this.
Maybe I was consuming too much demon food and it was now affecting me? Well, that could be it. Maybe I’ll reduce the amount of food I eat... no, no way. Kethra’s food was too good to stop eating it just because I see weird things.
"Yes, my lady," Morthen stammered, snapping me out of my thoughts.
He adjusted his spectacles so quickly they nearly slid off his face.
I leaned back slightly in my chair, crossing one leg over the other.
"And yet," I continued, "you are still standing here."
Morthen swallowed.
It was loud.
Impressively loud.
"I—um—well—my lady—" he began, his voice shrinking with every word, his compound eyes darting between me and Zorathys like he was caught between two very different types of death.
I narrowed my eyes slightly.
"Why," I asked, each word measured, "have you not done what I asked?"
Morthen adjusted his spectacles again.
"My lady," he said in a tiny voice, "His Majesty told the person at the door to go away..."
He trailed off.
I blinked.
"And?" I prompted.
"And..." he continued weakly, gesturing vaguely toward Zorathys without actually looking at him, "from what I understand... that translates to... the King not wanting the door to be opened..."
I stared at him and then took a look at Zorathys, whose gaze was now on Morthen.
His head tilted slightly to the side, his red gaze settling on Morthen with quiet interest.
"Tell me," Zorathys said lazily, "am I your master... or is Firefly?"
Morthen froze again.
If possible, even more than before.
"I—um—well—Your Majesty—I—"
"Answer," Zorathys said.
There was no change in his tone.
But something shifted.
Something subtle.
Something that made the air feel... heavier.
Morthen’s shoulders stiffened.
"Her Highness is," he said shakily.
Zorathys hummed.
I leaned forward slightly.
"Morthen," I said, drawing his attention back to me.
He turned immediately.
Too quickly.
Like he was relieved to look at me instead.
"Do you remember what you told me," I asked, "when you first started working as my assistant?"
He blinked.
Once.
Twice.
His compound eyes were... wide.
Very wide.
I had no idea how I could even tell what expression those eyes held—but somehow, I could.
And right now?
They were filled with fear.
He didn’t answer.
He just stared.
I tilted my head slightly.
"You told me," I continued, my voice calm, "that you cannot see without your spectacles."
His hand immediately went to adjust them again.
"But from what I’m seeing," I added, my gaze sharpening slightly, "it seems like you do not want to see at all."
Morthen’s eyes widened even more—so much that it looked like they might actually take over his entire face.
For a moment, I thought he might faint.
Honestly, I wouldn’t have been surprised.
Then, from the corner of my eye, I saw movement.
I turned my head slightly.
Zorathys was looking at me.
There was something in his eyes. Something that looked suspiciously like approval and perhaps pride.
I ignored it.
Morthen swallowed again.
"My—my apologies, Your Highness," he said quickly, his voice trembling as he bowed his head.
Then, without wasting another second, he turned and hurried toward the door.
His steps were quick.
Almost desperate.
He reached for the handle, hesitated for half a second—probably reconsidering his life choices—then opened it.
The door swung open.
And I blinked.
Because standing there was Marrok.
The towering gargoyle filled the doorway with his presence alone.
Stone wings folded neatly behind him. His posture straight. His expression calm in that way that made it impossible to tell what he was thinking—if he was thinking anything at all.
His eyes, faintly glowing within their carved sockets, shifted slightly as he took in the scene before him.
Then he bowed.
First to Zorathys.
Then to me.
"Your Majesties," he greeted, his voice steady and deep, like stone settling into place.
I straightened slightly in my chair.
Zorathys, however, looked entirely unimpressed.
"You have visitors," Marrok continued.
Zorathys did not even hesitate.
"Tell them to go away," he said immediately. "They can come some other day. I am tired."
"Are you ever not tired?" I asked him.
"It’s not my fault that everything that has to do with existing requires me to work. It takes a great deal of energy from me," he told me.
I rolled my eyes again, and then Zorathys turned to Marrok.
"I just told you to—"
"Who are the visitors?" I asked, cutting in.
Marrok paused.
Just slightly.
Then he cleared his throat.
"The Duke and Duchess of the Thalassar Territory," he began, his voice formal and precise, "the Duke of Velistrae, the Duchess of the Kitsunegawa Territory... and the Duke of the Golemhold Territory."
I frowned. Those were people with high influence in the demon realm. We were not celebrating anything, so why were they at the palace—and this early in the morning too?
Did something happen? Perhaps regarding their children... wait, I didn’t spend time with Caleth’s children, so if they were here because of their children, then Caleth and his wife wouldn’t be present.
I immediately stood up and walked out of the office.