Chapter 90: Of Thieves, Tongues, and Serpents in Silk
Chapter 90: Of Thieves, Tongues, and Serpents in Silk
Elyn’s POV
For a heartbeat, I just stared at Rin.
I wasn’t sure I had heard her correctly. My brain replayed her words slowly, like it was giving me a chance to reconsider reality before accepting it.
"You... what?" I asked, turning fully toward her.
Rin blinked up at me, utterly unapologetic. Instead, she looked proud of her work and of what she had just said. Her chest puffed out in pride.
"I stole it," she said again. "But the snake is very stingy."
Azerion bristled immediately.
"I am not a snake," he snapped, his voice sharp and offended in a way that suggested he’d had this argument far too many times in his life—and with Rin too, who was being adamant about not listening to him.
Rin stuck her tongue out at him. It was the kind of childish, infuriating gesture one would expect from a petulant child—or, apparently, a raven demon who had decided today was the day she would test a demon snake’s patience.
Azerion made an irritated sound in the back of his throat and turned to me.
"My lady," he began, his speech much clearer. "I don’t think the raven should be your assistant at all. She is disrespectful and has no regard for space. She is also disruptive..."
"The King chose me," Rin cut in smugly, folding her arms. "To be the Queen’s assistant."
Azerion huffed.
"Well, the King made a mistake. I’m sure of that, and I don’t like him either."
Rin’s eyes narrowed. "Good. The King isn’t for lowlifes like a snake to like."
"I am not a snake," Azerion said again, slower this time, like he was speaking to someone whose intelligence he was questioning.
Rin tilted her head. "You’re a Syrenthis demon."
"Yes."
"That’s still a snake demon."
His jaw tightened.
I watched this unfold in silence, my disbelief steadily morphing into a headache.
Azerion turned back to me, clearly seeking reason. "My lady, the raven should leave this place," he told me. "She is disrespectful. And she is also a thief."
Rin scoffed loudly. "Almost all demons are thieves," she shot back. "Including you."
"I do not steal," Azerion said to her.
His voice sounded childish, and it even sounded like he was whining.
Rin rolled her eyes so hard I was surprised they didn’t get stuck.
"You stole my lady’s calming snacks."
"I did not steal it. I only took from it."
"You took without the Queen’s permission," she said. "That’s stealing."
"It’s taking," Azerion argued, but Rin didn’t care. She continued speaking.
"Oh, and let’s not forget that you even took her snack box with you while I took you to change out of that filthy dress—which you also stole, by the way. Don’t act innocent," Rin said to him.
Azerion rolled his eyes like he couldn’t even believe Rin had just said that, like it was the most absurd thing ever.
"Ravens really aren’t smart," he said with a tired sigh. "Again, I did not steal. I do not steal. The Queen gave me her snack box."
And that was a lie, because I didn’t give Azerion anything at all.
"And the person you stole that awful white oversized dress from also gave it to you, is that it?" Rin asked him.
Azerion blinked at her. "Of course they did. I took it—"
"Without permission," Rin muttered.
"If the owner doesn’t report it as a theft, then it’s not a theft."
"Doesn’t make it any better than you stole."
"And you stole from me too," Azerion told her.
"But you took it back from me."
"That doesn’t mean you didn’t steal it. You—"
"...stingy snake."
"I am not a snake!"
"And I am not just a raven!"
"You are!"
"Then you are a snake! A snake who steals."
"I am not!"
"You are!"
I rubbed my forehead. I could feel a headache coming just from watching the two of them argue like kids. I mean, Azerion looked like a kid, but that wasn’t enough to justify it... right?
"Enough," I said. "Shut your mouths. You are both giving me a headache."
They stopped instantly.
Both of them mimed zipping their mouths shut with exaggerated gestures, hands moving in perfect, synchronized obedience. If I wasn’t so tired from the argument they had just had, I might have laughed.
I exhaled slowly and finally looked at Azerion properly.
The first thing I noticed was his hair.
Gone was the long, loose sweep that nearly brushed the floor every time he moved.
Instead, it was gathered neatly at the back of his head, secured in a low ponytail that fell only to the middle of his back. It suited him perfectly.
Then my gaze dropped to what he was wearing.
He had changed out of his previous—ahem—stolen clothes entirely.
The outfit was unmistakably demonic in craftsmanship but tailored with an almost youthful precision. He wore an embroidered tunic-dress that fell just above his knees, the fabric rich and dark, threaded with subtle silver patterns that caught the light only when he moved. The embroidery wasn’t loud or ostentatious—it traced the hems and cuffs in fine, deliberate lines, like quiet wealth that didn’t need to announce itself.
Beneath it, he wore fitted shorts of the same material, structured enough to allow movement without sacrificing elegance. The cut was practical, almost boyish, but the quality of the fabric and the precision of the tailoring screamed class.
It was the kind of outfit that said young noble without ever using the word.
His boots were soft-soled and polished, clearly made for comfort.
He looked... different. And he looked his age, not like someone who had I’m a thief who likes to steal snacks written across his forehead.
But then I saw his eyes, and I blinked, rubbing at my own eyes so it wouldn’t seem like I was making things up in my head.
"What... what happened to your eyes?" I asked in shock.