Taming the Demon King

Presented at Court

“Are you ready for this?” my best friend asks.

I smile at the tall brunette and answer, “As much as I can be, right?”

Stella Castle, a witch with moderate talents and power in a field not exercised by many, uses her water power to pull tiny tendril up from her glass. She is perched on the end of my bed in her formal clothes, a gorgeous burgundy gown with gold embroidery. She’s also bored and playing with her power to pass the time.

Stella is a year older than me and she came out at court around this time last year. She finds these ceremonies tedious and unnecessary, having been brought up in a middle class family on the fringes of castle life. If she had a more ordinary power, she wouldn’t have to put up with ceremonial life. I think her outsiderness is why I like her so much. I don’t always feel like I belong in court life. I relate to her that way.

I finish picking at my crown braid and putting pins in place to hold everything. Sometimes I wish I were a telekinetic. Telepathy doesn’t exactly help with everyday chores.

The last thing I do is place my tiara on top, tucked into my crown braid and pinned in place to keep it there. The tiara is handed down from my three times great grandmother who only passed a few years ahead of my birth. I got my first name Eloise from her. It’s tradition to hand down jewels to the younger relatives, often before their deaths. Grandmother Eloise didn’t make it that far. She lived a long time and was coming to the end of it from my mother’s stories. But I never got to meet her and sometimes that makes me sad.

The small tiara glitters nicely, offset by my red hair. Grandmother Eloise had a few tiaras from her days when she was a ranked High Enchantress. At court she always looked the part with family jewels and gowns and everything, but away from court she was more prone to wear casual clothes, no matter what that looked like in any era. The sapphire necklace I’m wearing comes from her as well.

“Aren’t you done yet?” Stella asks. 

“I am now.” I give my head a gentle shake to check the stability of the tiara. Nothing moves, so I leave it all alone. Then I look at Stella and an impulse comes over me. I turn back to my vanity and open a drawer, taking out a thin gold headband with tiny rubies set along with clear crystals. I hand it to Stella. “I want you to wear it.”

She gets up from the table, a surprised look on her face. “Do you really mean it?”

“Don’t argue,” I say. “Put it on.” I’m aware I’m being very bossy, but when it comes to Stella she needs it sometimes. She has as strong a personality as I do, but she doesn’t always feel comfortable with her position. She isn’t wearing a single jewel to offset the beautiful dress. Without the embroidery she would look very plain indeed.

Stella peers into my vanity mirror and settles the headband carefully into her looped and braided hair. She straightens and looks at me. “What do you think?”

“Perfection.”

I finally get up from my vanity and adjust my gown one last time. “Shall we go down?”

“Of course. My lady?” she says, offering her arm. I laugh as I take it. Neither of us takes the titles seriously. 

I’m not really a lady, though my mother has the status to be called that. My father too could be called a lord. But we don’t use those titles usually. My parents rank among the several dozen Enchantresses and Sorcerers two rungs below what other species would call the Royals. The Master Enchanters don’t call themselves royalty though. None of them are related except distantly. And High Mistress Azura Scarletwound and High Master Keith Magnus wouldn’t call themselves king and queen despite being our de facto leaders. Being a witch is much more about skill and collaboration than it is about bloodlines.

We walk down the third back stairs of the eastern castle tower, avoiding contact with anyone else until we’re down to the fifth floor. My family’s apartments are on the eighth and ninth floors of the tower, overlooking the water to the north and the field to the east. From my bedroom windows, you can just catch a glimpse of the northeast castle wall. The walls form something of a multiple-sectioned rhombus with towers at the joints and inner and outer walls at the farthest points. The wall I see is the outer wall. 

During the days of war before my birth, no one would have lived in this tower. It was a barracks for the Maison Royale soldiers. The roof at one point burned off completely and some of the stonework was replaced when I was around five. My parents moved us into the tower when I was eight and it’s been home ever since.

On the fifth floor of the tower, we run into some of our friends as we head down the highest corridor of the castle wall. Six of us turn the bend into one of the central spokes of the castle walls and head for the main central structure, a diamond section housing the main halls and the court of the High Mistress and High Master. We make our way through hall and corridor and wider staircases to the antechamber of the main hall. There I find my parents, Stella tagging along with me. She would be my accompanying lady-in-waiting for the coming out. My mother would be presenting me.

“My darling,” mother greets me. “You look beautiful.” She gives me a kiss on my cheek.

“Thank you,” I answer.

“Are you ready for this?”

“I’m not sure. I’m just glad that Stella is coming too,” I say.

She squeezes my hand and says, “I’m happy to. I know how intimidating it can be.”

My father leans down and kisses me before whispering, “Well it might be more intimidating. I’m glad you have a close friend to go with you.”

“Why, what happened?”

My mother whispers, “The Demon Royal Court showed up.”

“Oh wow,” Stella whispers back. “That’s what all the kerfuffle is about?” Her eyes scan the room and it’s obvious everyone is gossiping intensely. 

“Well I don’t have to worry about that,” I say with a shake of my head. I’m too lowly to be of any consequence to the Royals. I will be ranked at most a High Witch this year. The Royals don’t have anything to talk to me about. And while they usually bring Dukes and Marquesses with them, they also outrank me by a good amount. 

A bell rings across the room. Silence falls almost immediately. 

“Ladies and gentlemen, may I have your attention.” The speaker is the Herald of the Maison Royale. Beside him stands the two high sorcerers who serve directly to support the Mistresses and Masters. Everyone including them look resplendent in their finest formalwear.

“If all those coming out along with those presenting and accompanying them would make their way to the west hall,” the Herald says. 

“That’s us,” my mother says. She turns to my father and kisses him saying, “We’ll see you inside.”

“Good luck, my darling,” he says to me with a kiss.

“Thank you father,” is all I can say in answer.

Stella takes my hand and walks with me behind mother to the great double doors that lead into the west hall. This serves as the secondary, more intimate chamber of the Maison Royale, the place where smaller internal affairs are usually settled. Most of my court life has been lived in this small place and not in the larger main hall we will soon be entering. 

Slowly, the attendants walk through the crush of young witches and wizards, the young men being presented here in addition to the ladies. It’s atypical of most royal courts to have the men presented, but every person is valued and should be acknowledged. That is the way of the Maison Royale.

The attendants inform us of the position in line that we will be placed. I’m behind all my friends, so they will all be waiting when I finally get through this necessity. The nice thing is we are not the lowest in the room, so we don’t have to go last and leave the last impression. The mages and witches behind us murmur with nervousness at the prospect.

I’m not sure how long it will take but a knot forms in my stomach unexpectedly as the doors open and the first group walks through. Two old friends of mine, Brencis Argent followed by his twin brother Derrick Argent lead the way together. They argued they should be presented together to show their joint rank. They are co-High Wizards of the mystic Druidic order, a title of distinction to say the least. With them walk both parents and their two older siblings as attendants. I don’t envy that complication, though I wish I had a sibling sometimes.

Stella squeezes my hand again, reassuring me in a small way. I bite my lip as I wait, my nervousness refusing to leave. I don’t know what awaits on the other side of those doors, but I suddenly have the feeling nothing will ever be the same again.