Demon Empress

Chapter 11 - Ithur

Irritation filled Iara’s chest. “What makes you so certain I’m from a lower Ring?”

The demon chuckled. “Why so indignant? If you say you are not, then you are not.” He peered at her curiously, a mocking smile fixed on his face. “What kind of noble or wealthy lady from a higher Ring would dress and behave like you do? Start by getting your feet off of the seat!”

Iara growled. “Who are you and why are you talking to me?”

He raised his brows. “There is a lady as beautiful as Goddess A’Esha sitting here all lonesome. It’s only natural for a self-respecting demon to go forth and offer assistance.”

She snorted. “I don’t need your assistance. I’m waiting for someone.”

He raised his shoulders, his hands spread innocently. “Waiting. He’s not here to protect you, is he?”

Iara rolled her eyes, her annoyance growing. “I sent him off. I can protect myself, at least against things like you.”

Completely unaffected by her hostility, his eyes raked over her again. “If you are looking for a place to stay, I wouldn’t mind providing some guidance.”

“We don’t need it,” interrupted a familiar, stoic voice. “Many thanks, Lord l’Rasel.”

Iara looked up. “Back so soon, Qaen? You barely left. It can’t be that you were so lazy that you did a half-assed job of looking and returned to report a failure.”

Qaen snorted. “Master is so slow. I looked thoroughly, at my own pace without you weighing me down. The conclusion I’ve reached is that you’re too poor to be in the Fourth Ring. We shouldn’t have come.”

She growled. “What was I to do, then? Stay and wait for the Aluva girl’s dogs to chase me?”

The initially surprised demon, who had been thoroughly ignored by the pair, jutted into the conversation. “Qaen?”

Qaen bowed very properly. “Lord l’Rasel, long time no see.”

This Lord l’Rasel’s lips twitched. “Funny, seeing you here. I thought I sold you to the First Ring.”

Qaen sniffed. “I can’t say I’m surprised to find you here. I see you’re still behaving shamefully since that incident.”

Iara perked up, finding l’Rasel shrink into himself from being chastised by a slave. “I’m not here to see the girls at the Red Moon House,” he said rather defensively.

She tugged on Qaen’s shirt rudely from where she sat. “Who is that?”

He didn’t even look at her when she tugged roughly. “This is Ithur l’Rasel, firstborn son of the Minister of Foreign Affairs.”

She arched her brows. "Oh, such an impressive status — and how do you know someone like that?"

Qaen smiled bitterly. "I didn't realise Master was a petty person who cared about past relationships. Lady l'Rasel — so this man's wife — was my master 600 years ago. He sold me to a noble in the First Ring when he found out about her cheating."

Iara smiled cheerfully. "You were sold to the First Ring, and you're still in one piece! I do have great taste in slaves."

Ituhr stared. "You've fallen quite low, Qaen. Is this common thing really your owner?"

Qaen lost his visible annoyance, his expression cold. "Well, my lord, I'd rather believe I've upgraded. She doesn't have to collar me to suppress me, unlike some."

The demon turned pale. There were some very blatant insinuations in Qaen's voice, and he didn't quite know how comfortable he felt about it.

Iara sighed. "Just ignore that thing. What even is he, anymore?" She glared. "Don't try to escape the fact that you've returned to report a failure."

Qaen growled. Iara swore she could hear him grumble under his breath: "Why doesn't Master go try it? I'd like to see how long it would take you to go door-to-door."

She glared. "Huh?"

He sighed. "Nothing. Master, there really isn't anything for less than 300 eos a night unless you're willing to go to the slums. The slums of the Fourth Ring are no better than the slums of the Fifth Ring."

Ithur snickered. "300 eos? What are you trying to find with 300 eos?"

The pair stared at him flatly.

He shifted and cleared his throat before taking on a wheedling tone: "But if Qaen is to come with you, I could not only offer this fair demoness guidance, but my own roof to shelter your head."

Qaen grew wary, eyeing the demon carefully. "Why would you let me back into your home?"

Ithur's smile became pained, forced on his face. "I shouldn't have sold you in a fit of anger. What you gave birth to, I should have let you finish." His eyes glittered. "With you serving a different master, I can no longer force your hand. Instead, I can offer your master the best of everything in the Fourth Ring. But you must stay until you put an end to the madness Riese has brought down upon my home."

It was Qaen's turn to wheedle. Turning to Iara, he said tentatively: "It wouldn't take me long to run a bounty. How about I provide for our stay somewhere else?"

Iara shook her head with a grin. "It's not as if I have any particularly great plans in the near foreseeable future. This story of a cheating wife sounds like it will be great entertainment to pass some time. I've always wanted to see the inside works of a noble's home. Besides, Qaen, don't you miss the woman you slept with?"

Qaen stiffened. "They all sleep with me. Should I remember and miss all of them, even the psychopathic ones?"

Iara sniffed. "But you slept with a married woman. You need to take responsibility."

Ithur rolled his eyes. "How could I care about what she does with a slave?"

Qaen snickered. "Exactly. Lord l'Rasel is mad that I followed her orders and assisted her in sleeping with the housekeeper. The housekeeper was whipped and fired before I was sold."

Iara sighed internally. "So you made it possible for her to cheat?"

Ithur smiled politely at her. "It sounds as if Madam hasn't known this overstepping thing long. You really should collar him. He is a lot more dangerous than he lets you believe he is."

Iara smiled slowly and tilted her head to the side, her eyes glittering dangerously. "Do you know me?"

She felt Qaen freeze where he stood.

Ithur stared back, feeling as if he was suddenly fixed in place by that predatory smile.

Her delicate incisors glinted flirtingly as she spoke. "Lord l'Rasel, you don't even know my name."

Ithur peeled his lips back as if to speak, but no words came out of his mouth. His throat worked for a moment, but his face soon creased with fear and worry.

Suddenly, a pressure lifted in the air, letting the tension loose. Iara grinned. "An honour to meet you, my lord. My name is Iara. As of a few hours ago, I am indeed Qaen's owner, and I'm incredibly flattered to be invited to your home."

Ithur recovered slowly, clearing his throat a couple of times. A hopeful, tentative smile spread on his face. "I'll remember this favour of yours, Madam Iara. I'll take this chance to show you Qaen's usefulness."

Iara was quite friendly. "Just Iara will do, Lord l'Rasel."

Qaen still hadn't quite recovered from the earlier pressure. He bowed slightly, feeling a bit empty. "Of course, my wish is to be of use to Master." Why had he said that? It wasn't the type of thing he usually felt that he had to say around Iara. He didn't even have a collar on, and yet—

"That's good enough, Qaen," Iara teased. "Ease up. Why the sudden obedient act?"

When Qaen dared to look up at her perfect, smiling face, he could swear: for a split second, her eyes were a terrible, smoldering red. His gaze immediately fell onto the tips of her worn, leather shoes.

Ithur laughed. "Maybe he remembers how a slave should really act, now that we're returning to my house. Iara, I owe you for lending him to me for this. You will be comfortable with me as host."

Iara smiled at him. "Shall we, then?"