The Divine

A Daemon Queen

It came naturally to her to rise in the morning with an unpowdered face, twigs, and leaves poking out of her wild mane, yet she still epitomized beauty. Her lips were full and rosy pink, and her complexion was unblemished and glowing. Petite yet curvy in all the right places, she was certainly the object of any man's fantasy. When the princes of the adjacent Fae kingdoms heard that she would be off the market for marriage, they were all bitter with envy. To think that would be wasted on a daemon, they’d whisper amongst each other. 

Ever since her betrothal, she had been discarded from the mind of every man who made her acquaintance, including a very stern personal guard of hers. She didn’t pay any more mind to the loss as it was never a potential gain in the first place. Romance isn’t in the cards for a princess betrothed to a daemon prince, and what is the worth of love anyhow? She was a princess, a royal divine of the fae who held the responsibility of restoring peace and magic in her kingdom. That was her duty, however impossible it would be. 

She touched the radiant gold finish of her diadem, meeting her own haunting gaze in the mirror as she envisioned the prospect of reigning over not only the daemons but all of Lucem. It’d be the last time she’d sit at the marble vanity that had once been her mother’s. She smiled weakly as Nyra, one of her loyal handmaidens, brushed her cheeks with a glittering golden powder. Viviana, her barrel-shaped lady-in-waiting, gave a final tug to Euphymia’s corset strings, sucking the air out of her lungs. 

“Not so tight, Viv!” Euphymia gasped. She felt as though she was given only a single straw as her means of drawing air.

"Nonsense, Princess. We must prop up the girls if we hope to please the king. If looks could kill, you’d certainly be the death of him!" Vivi bellowed a guttural laugh. Euphymia tossed her lady-in-waiting a playful smirk, surprising herself with such a carefree response; her situation was no laughing matter. 

"I need a way to revive my magic and save our Fae, not a daemon draped around my bosom,” Euphymia spat, but Vivi continued to cackle like a wild goose. She stopped when she realized Euphymia didn’t share her amusement. 

“All will be well, my dear. Don’t line your face with worry,” Viviana said in a motherly tone as she redirected her attention to the embellishment of her royal highness. “Nyra put the pearls on her—no, the morganite earrings. The princess of the Fae should wear morganite. O’ Lucem, we haven’t even added the petals and diamonds to her hair; we’ve got no time to spare. He’ll be here any minute now!”

Vivi let out a dramatic moan as if the world had truly ended due to the lack of decor in the princess’s hair. Euphymia ignored her theatrics and let her handmaidens preen her appearance. She didn’t really care what earrings she wore today. She cared whether or not she’d live through the night. 

“Makes no difference to me,” Euphymia said, “Whichever will deter him from touching me before our wedding night will suffice.” Viviana paused, a hairpin pressed between her lips, and her penciled eyebrows arched in surprise. Her lips curled into a sour look of disgust as she thought about what might become of her in a daemon’s bed.

“They sleep with their brides before they are wed, ‘tis just the way of the daemon, nothing for you to feel upset about. You’ll be wed either way,” Vivi let a jolly smile stretch across her lips, albeit her words were of a serious matter. Euphymia appreciated her upbeat nature. It kept her sane. Especially when Nyra looked at her with such a pensive look. Everyone feared the daemons. It’s instinct to tremble at the mere presence of a creature beyond your own strength, let alone sharing your chambers with one.

“Only you could make being wed to a daemon sound like a good thing,” Euphymia said with a faint smile. Viviana pursed her lips, pausing thoughtfully.

“Nyra, go gather more crocus petals for the princess. Hurry now,” Vivi commanded the young handmaiden. In her absence, Vivi spoke in a hushed tone to Euphymia. “And what are you going to do, missy, spend this time feeling sorry for yourself, or will you take this opportunity to take back what is ours?” 

“What are you referring to?” Euphymia said in defeat. Vivi smiled as she carefully adorned the princess with sparkling ornaments. Her hair was a magnificent, dazzling array of glitter, gems, and lavender crocus flowers, and lastly, dangling morganites. Viviana let her hand rest on the shimmering jewel. 

“Belladonna,” Vivi said as a wicked smile cracked across her lips. “Pour it into his wine on the night of your wedding. Should do the trick.”

“Viv, you can’t be serious. It would be a grave mistake if someone were to catch me slipping belladonna to the King of Lucem. I’d be a dead woman, and all of the Fae kingdoms would be ignited to flames once and for all.”

Vivi gestured toward the mirror, the startling image of a woman about to be crowned queen of Lucem. A haunting but powerful image. A jarring contrast of an innocent Fae about to enter the dark realm of daemons as their queen. 

“You will be the daemon Queen of Lucem, so play the part. Or don’t... Either way, you have it with you for your own means of defense.”

Euphymia frowned in contemplation. She was right; by the gods, she was right. But in all of her eighteen years on this Tera, she’d never killed anything. The thought never even crossed her mind. 

“Thank you,” was all Euphymia could say as Vivi finished adorning her with vibrant, lavender crocus flowers.

“Off we go,” Vivi smiled as she ushered the princess out of her room and down the grand staircase, leading her to the bailey. 

The white marble surface of the courtyard was lined with Fae guards, carefully positioned around her father and brother like white chess pawns surrounding the king. She fell into step beside them as she waited to be checkmated by the black piece. Novus greeted her with a gaze saturated with disapproval. She was late by five minutes, and Novus was a man of punctuality.

“He isn’t here yet, nothing to fret over,” Euphymia said with her teeth locked into a smile as she took note of the crowd that shuffled near the gates, anxiously awaiting the send-off of their beloved princess. A historical moment and Euphymia refused to be remembered as the princess that bawled her eyes out during her departure. Despite that, she was trembling, and she dug her nails into her wrist to force the fear out. A rumbling, rhythmic sound approached like thunder.

“Hold your positions, men! These are our allies now, do not disrespect them!” Her father bellowed. 

Euphymia felt the heat of their approach, and it intensified once they flooded into the courtyard. Dozens of perfectly carved daemon warriors rode in mounting black stallions and chanting indiscernible words in their native tongue. Once they lined up parallel to the Fae soldiers, she searched for the king, but none of them seemed to fit the description of daemon royalty, and Novus took notice.

“Where is the High King Drakon?” Novus inquired with an inquisitive brow.

“He’ll be arriving shortly,” one of the men said with a smirk as his eyes shifted skyward. Novus and her father squinted into the dark clouds above before sharing a look of confusion. There was a moment of silence in the courtyard; even the growls of the Daemons dwindled. All that could be heard was the whistling, warm breeze. 

Suddenly, a distant shriek from above caused the Fae royals and soldiers alike to scan the skies frantically. The shriek could only be described as monstrous… abominable... a sound Euphymia had never heard an animal produce. Her skin crawled as the creature came into view: a menacing, serpentine creature approached at rapid speed. 

“Welcome, King Drakon, the first of his name! Son of the late King Drakvol! Divine of the Black Kingdom! And King of Lucem!” announced the daemon that had spoken previously.

The Tera shook violently as the monster landed, piercing its talons into the marble floor. It bellowed another nauseating screech that shook Euphymia to her core. She was going to die to this monster, wasn’t she? She felt the guards close in around her, shielding her from the oncoming danger as if their flimsy meat suits stood a chance against a beast of that stature; the creature was of colossal height, its head nearly reaching the tallest tower of the castle behind her.

“King Drakon,” Euphymia’s father began once the tremors ceased, “What a delight to see you all grown up and at the center of the throne nonetheless. May I offer you my utmost congratulations!” 

“Welcome, King Drakon,” Novus joined his father in greeting the High King, but Euphymia could sense the shakiness in his tone. Even Novus was afraid of a daemon.

The scaly creature lowered his head, easing the figure that mounted him to ground level. The Daemons chanted and cheered as the man arrived. Drakon raised his hand, and without saying a word, the Daemons obediently ceased their incessant noise-making. 

“Prince Novus and King Tarafin, it’s been a while. You’re right; the last you saw of me, I was just a boy, and now here I am on a quest to retrieve what was promised to me,” Drakon said with an air of command to his tone. 

“Of course. We always keep our promises; I hope you keep that in mind.”  Novus insisted. 

“Duly noted,” Drakon said with a sly smile that Euphymia could only catch a glimpse of. The guards in front of her stood shoulder-to-shoulder, blocking her view of the scene. What surprised her was how naturally he spoke sylvan. One would never guess he wasn’t native to the fae tongue.

“Might we ask what sort of…,” King Tarafin searched for the word to describe the gargantuan that now stood in his bailey, “Creature is behind you?” 

“This is the Az’godan dragon. I’ve named him Clay. He is currently the only one of his kind,” the High King replied.

“Ahem, of course,” King Tarafin cleared his throat, “May I present you with your gift and our symbolic gesture of alliance, my precious daughter, Euphymia Evelyn Tarafin, Princess of the Tarafin Kingdom.”

The guards that only moments ago shielded Euphymia now dispersed and left her feeling naked and exposed to the world. She locked her gaze with her father, his eyes commanding and urgent, desperate for her obedience. She acquiesced, taking a slow, shaky step forward, her eyes frantically studied the beast. 

“Your Majesty,” she curtsied and then shifted her gaze to meet the daemon king's. His eyes glowed like molten magma, and when they locked onto hers, she felt something electric pulse through her. There was a danger to his presence that she could feel immediately, a throbbing, pulsating vibration that warned her. 

“It’s a pleasure to finally make your acquaintance,” he turned to face King Tarafin and Novus once more,  but Euphymia caught his eyes briefly flick over to her. “We have matters to discuss before departure, but then we will be on our way back to Az’godan.”

“The wedding will be in two weeks. The servants are currently making all the preparations,” one of the daemons that rode in stepped out from his line and announced.

“Two weeks?” Novus began, his fear had swiftly been forgotten and replaced with rage, “How can you expect us to give you our token without an official unification to symbolize our alliance. The Kingdoms are at war, and daemons from the Vazgoth Kingdom will invade us soon, but only your alliance will be a deterrent.” 

“Forgive us, Your Grace, but I assumed everything would be official much sooner than that,” King Tarafin said more subtly. 

“A wedding of the century, we’ll need every minute we can spare to make it perfect,” Drakon replied. A very subtle smile played on his lips, and Euphymia thought the image to be of mockery. She felt rage simmer beneath her calm and collected surface. Her mind wandered to thoughts of the previous months when daemons from the Tarth Kingdom had stormed their lands and stolen whatever crops they had left to spare. It was only a matter of time before another attack were to transpire and render them completely baron.

“Then we have new terms,” Euphymia chimed in; despite her trembling stature, she held her poise, “We require a line of defense against any daemon that should invade if you can’t meet those terms, I won’t be going anywhere with you.”

“Euphymia, how many times do I have to tell you not to involve yourself in the political interests of men?” Novus stormed over to her and whispered to her through gritted teeth.

“Done,” Drakon declared, “I’ll send a battalion of my men to guard the perimeter once we return to Az'godan.” Drakon watched Euphymia more closely now, and she felt the heat of his stare burn into her like a flame. Yes, she felt the intensity of daemon heat more severely now, like she couldn’t breathe. Perhaps it was because Viv and Nyra had tightened her corset too forcefully—but it wasn’t that. The Daemon brought the heat with them, and she could feel her palms sweating and her vision blurring, and that subtle, pulsating feeling transformed into a pounding drum. And then everything went black, and the last she could remember was the thump of her head meeting the unforgiving marble.