Lyra's POV
I didn't know how long I slept, but when I woke up, it was from a knock on the door. I started from the bed, grabbing tight to the bedsheets around me.
My eyes, still drugged from sleep, flittered to the door, just as the noise of knuckles drumming against the wood-paneled door echoed along the stone walls of the room again.
I shut my eyes tight to fight back the remnant of sleep clinging to them. I had to be alert. It could be a maid, a guard, or even Zarek. I wouldn't put it past any of them to plunge a sword through my heart if they found me groggy from sleep.
I snapped my eyes open. Feeling them firm and alert, I looked up at the door.
"Who is that?" I demanded.
"Maid," a voice answered from outside.
"Come in,"
The door squealed open, and a maid strolled in, her tiny demonic horns sticking from a low bundle of blonde hair. "King Draziel asks for you to join him for food," she said, her voice cold and flat, and her neck stiffened up.
I didn't expect her to bow for me anyway. She might be a maid, but she was also a demon, and demons consider themselves superior to humans. But I could glimpse the snarl behind her eyes, the slight twist of her lips that screamed of disgust. She didn't like me. Well, I wouldn't say I liked her too.
"Tell him I am not coming. I can't eat demon food," I said, relaxing back on the bed. Yet, my eyes never left her. I followed the movements of her hands as they wobbled beside her. Demon males play with swords, and the females—throwing daggers like darts—were their favorite pastime.
She grunted, "The king wants you, human, and no one refuses the king. You don't have to eat 'demon food' because he'd gotten the food for your kind," she stressed the words 'demon food' as if I should be ashamed of myself for saying them first.
Demon food or human food, it didn't matter. I would still have to sit with Draziel, endure his arrogance, and look into his eyes like he hadn't just snubbed me in the library—walked out on me like I meant nothing.
"Tell him I'll pass," I told the maid.
She grunted again, her jaw clenching tighter, outlining her almost bony jaw. She eased off the door, and instead of leaving, she marched for the bed instead.
I threw my gaze around the room, carrying it hastily over the drawers and the little furniture, for a weapon to defend myself. But I found nothing worthwhile.
I grunted, shuddering with alarm, realizing I had broken every possible thing in the room I could use during my fight with Zarek.
Before I could think of another way to defend myself, the maid had reached my bed. Like all demons, she moved very fast. She snatched my arm, dragging me up on the bed. "No one disobeys the king's orders, especially not a human,"
Then she hauled me off the bed and began dragging me along with her by the arm. I could have fought her, defended myself. But against a demon, it didn't matter if it was a king, prince, guard, or maid. I would never win. I was a human, and I was weak—reincarnated as a worthless bar girl, not even a human warrior.
I tried to fight her grip on my hand, but her fingers closed in so tight, I winced as she pulled me along the corridor and down the stairs.
Surprisingly, when we approached the dining hall, she let go of my arm so fast, as if it scalded her. I stared up at her as I staggered forward, wondering why she had suddenly let go.
I was soon to realize the reason for her action when Zarek appeared before me. I retreated a foot away from him and the maid, just as a brush of air slapped my face, caused by the speed with which he teleported.
"Lyra," he beamed, then he made a glance at the maid. "Hope Helga didn't demonhandle you," he joked. "Draziel had an idea you might refuse to come, so he asked Helga to bring you here, however she sees fit."
Then he leaned his arm for me to take. I eyed his outstretched arm condescendingly. Even if this version of Draziel was proving to be much of an asshole, he—Zarek—was the last person whose support I'll ever accept.
I slanted the maid a glance, heavy with grudge, as I moved past Zarek's looming frame, and I strolled to the dining table on my own. Zarek teleported to a seat at the opposite end of mine, just as I dropped carefully onto one of the large wooden-backed chairs that surrounded the large dining table.
Draziel flicked his eyes my way, his lips parted for a moment. But they shut back instantly, and he shifted his gaze slowly to his food—slices of raw meat in a hard stainless steel plate.
Silent treatment. I shrugged my shoulders, turning away from him. Well, two can play! It was the least he deserved from me after the incident at the library and having his maid harass me.
The maid appeared beside me, dropping a small basket on the table before me, leaving with a forced smile on her thin, demonic lips.
The basket had apples, breads, oranges, and a covered ceramic bowl of what smelled like the chicken soup I had eaten in the real world. The spicy aroma wafted in the air around me, gripping my nostrils and making my stomach churn inside of me. I felt my intestines twisting around each other. But I couldn't dare eat it. Who knows, Zarek or the maid might have poisoned it?
As if Zarek had read my thoughts, he leaned his big body over the table and took an apple. He threw it in the air, pulling my eye to it. When he caught it back, he bit hard into it. "See, Lyra. I wouldn't poison you." He said.
Slowly, his face squashed tight as he chewed on the apple, his eyes shut. His expression was almost like he was chewing on some bitter herbs and not an apple.
I tried not to be amused. But my lips betrayed me, stretching for a smile. I stifled a chuckle, pressing my palm on my bulging cheeks, forcing back the laughter threatening to ripple out of my throat.
His face squeezed tighter, and his throat finally bulged as he swallowed it.
"I wouldn't poison you, Lyra." He dropped the half-eaten apple in the basket before me. "I wouldn't, especially not before Draziel." He made a quick glance at Draziel.
That steered my eyes to him also. He paused as he reached for another slice of raw meat—he knew we were staring at him. Still, he didn't look up at us. His gaze was buried low to the declining slices of raw meat on his plate. "Just eat, Lyra. It isn't poison. I got it myself," he finally answered, his tone curt and casual. Still not looking up to us—to me. The asshole.
I stared at the food again. I couldn't afford to be overbearing. So I dug into it, unpacking the meals. Even if it was poisoned, this wouldn't be the first time I'd die anyway.
"Lyra. It seemed like you enjoyed watching my fight with Draziel, where I defeated him," Zarek said.
He picked up a raw piece of meat and chewed on it, leaning on his seat, his eyes bright, eager to drum up a conversation.
I eyed him for a moment. "You mean the one where you cheated."
He chuckled, amusement lighting up his eyes more. "Winning is winning. It doesn't matter how one does it. All that matters is just to win."
"Cheating is bad and not honorable." I responded, almost snorting out the words. "But how would you know that? You are a dishonorable man yourself."
He laughed it off again, leaning both hands onto the desk. "I am a demon, and a demon has no use for honor," He chewed on his meat slowly, his eyes moving over me carefully, as if flirting with me.
"Then why is Draziel honorable?" I returned.
It took Draziel coughing to make me realize what I had just said. Damn. I bit on my lower lip gently, scolding myself under my breath.
Zarek scoffed slightly, his eyes still moving as if flirting with me. "Draziel isn't honorable. He is just principled and strong-headed. You have no idea how he'd cheated so we can defeat—"
"Just shut up already, Zarek," Draziel snapped at him before he could finish.
Zarek laughed it off again, dropping back to pick another slice of meat into his mouth.
I let my gaze travel slowly from Draziel to Zarek. My fingers hung on the cover of the ceramic bowl with the chicken soup. There was something Draziel didn't want me to hear—something about their father.
As soon as Zarek chewed his meat, his lips parted again. "How about I teach you sword fighting? I have an idea you would be a great student. Now, you know that I am the best around here."
Draziel snapped up from his plate now, his eyes tightening with murder as they fell on Zarek. "She is not learning sword fighting. And you are not teaching her." He yelled at Zarek.
I didn't know what came over me—revenge, grudge, or stupidity—I couldn't tell what it was, but I looked up at Zarek. "I will learn sword fighting." I glimpsed a bit of Draziel's painful stare. That spurred me on. I sat up to show both of them I meant business. "I am willing to learn sword fighting, and I want to learn it from the best teacher and greatest warrior in the demon world, Zarek Asheron,"
"No! You are not learning sword fighting," Draziel snapped at me.
"Yes, I am," I returned.
Then he rose to his feet, rattling the table. It vibrated for almost a minute. "If that's the case, Lyra. Then I would be the one to teach you."