BRIDE OF THE RUTHLESS DEMON

THE TICKING BOX AND THE SMILE

Chapter 11: The Ticking Box and the Smile

Roxan and Damon finally escaped the fondue party for good. They left Desmond arguing with the stressed Swiss waiter about how to stack small plates.

Damon’s massive black ship waited silently in the field outside the city. It was the only quiet place Roxan had found on Earth since Damon landed his army.

Inside the ship, the air was cold and clean, just like the King himself. Kaelen, the ship’s helpful computer voice, greeted them as they walked past the main control deck.

“Welcome back, King Damon, Queen Roxan. I have saved the data on the cheese incident.”

“Good, Kaelen,” Damon said. He was walking toward his private study. He moved with a heavy, angry grace. The human party had clearly annoyed him very much.

Roxan followed him. She needed to keep pushing for information about her family. The confusing warmth she felt while dancing with him needed to be stopped. Anger was easier to deal with than feeling attracted to a murderer.

“You still haven't told me everything about my mother and brother,” Roxan said, closing the door to the study behind them.

Damon stopped at his large metal desk, looking at a small metal box resting on it. “I told you. They were removed. An efficient cleaning up of obstacles in my path.”

Roxan walked closer, her hands tight fists. “They were people. My family. Not ‘obstacles.’ Was it you? Did you give the order to kill them with your own mouth?”

Damon turned slowly. His face was hard like stone. “The order came from my command structure. Yes, I approved the mission log. It was necessary to force your father to agree to our deal. He needed a very strong reason to stick to our plan.”

Roxan felt sick. Hearing him say it so simply, so casually, made her want to scream and cry at the same time. “You just erase lives for a business deal? For a piece of paper?”

“Life is temporary. Order is forever. My rule must be strong,” Damon said. He reached for the small metal box on the table. It had no locks, only a small flat button on top.

He didn't open it. He just stared at it, a strange quietness settling over him. He wasn't the loud, crude king of the party anymore. He looked tired and maybe a little sad.“What is that box?” Roxan asked, pointing.

“Something unimportant. A distraction from real work.” He pushed the box slightly away from him.

“It looks important. Is it more ‘order’?”

Damon let out a heavy breath, a sound like grinding rocks. “It is a gift. From a child. On the third planet, Xylos-Prime.”

Roxan was very surprised. A gift? For the big bad Demon King? This was new information. “A child on the planet you conquered?”

“Yes. His village made a small protest when we moved in. Nothing major. His mother gave the boy to my army as a sign of peace.” Damon’s voice was flat, with no emotion at all. “The boy was a pest. He followed me around the base for many days.”

Roxan was shocked. This did not sound like the efficient, heartless tyrant she knew. “You let him follow you around?”

“He was very good at cleaning my boots,” Damon said. “He seemed to think I was a hero for bringing quiet stability after a long war with other people.” Damon looked at the box again. “He did this for me when I left. He said it was important for my journey.”

“A gift from a kid you basically took hostage,” Roxan said, keeping the hard truth in her words.

“He was fine. I left him with my general, Varrick. Varrick needs a boot-cleaner.”

Roxan shook her head. “You are the strangest monster I have ever met.” She stared at the box. “What is inside?”

Damon finally touched the flat button. The box made a quiet sound and popped open.

Inside, on soft black cloth, was a small, ugly, handmade doll. It was made from grey cloth scraps and sharp metal bits for hair. It looked exactly like Damon, but with a funny, happy smile drawn in bright blue marker.

Roxan had to bite her lip hard to stop from laughing out loud. The mighty King Damon, the big boss of three planets, had a creepy little happy doll of himself.

“It is a representation of my image,” Damon said, his voice stiff with pride.

“It’s… adorable,” Roxan managed to say, holding in a giggle.

Damon picked up the doll very gently. He looked at the stitched smile, then put it back down carefully in the box.

“He thought I needed a smile,” Damon muttered. “Nonsense. Smiles are useless.”

“Are they?” Roxan walked to the desk, her anger about her family momentarily replaced by pure curiosity about this strange, soft side of the warlord. "I think a smile is a great tool. It makes people think you are not a threat."

Damon looked at her, his eyes narrow. “Thinking I am not a threat is a big mistake that gets people killed.”

“Only if you let them make that mistake,” Roxan said. She was standing very close to him now. The air felt heavy again, like it had on the dance floor.

Damon leaned in, his focus shifting from the doll to her face. He was still a monster, a murderer, but right now, he was also the man who carefully put a small handmade doll back in its box.

“You are very complicated, Roxan of Earth,” he whispered, his voice rougher than usual.

“You have no idea, Damon of Xylos,” she whispered back.

The little smiling doll sat between them in its open box, a very weird piece of human emotion in the cold study of the Demon King. The funny side and the sad side of their situation were all trapped in that small, grey toy.