At the South Kingdom*
Lydia stepped into the modest home, her eyes scanning every detail. The man who had brought her in still wore a dazed smile, fully entranced by the spell the Princess of Seduction had placed over him. In his eyes, she was his beloved wife—and he, her doting husband.
"Sit down, love," he said warmly. "I'll go prepare a hot bath for you. Stay put, alright?"
As he turned to walk toward the washroom, Lydia spoke, her voice smooth and casual.
"What do you do for a living?"
The man paused and turned slightly. "I'm the cupbearer to the king's right hand man," he answered proudly.
A slow smile spread across Lydia's lips. "Oh really?"
He nodded and disappeared into the other room.
Inside, the demon stirred.
*"Well, well… looks like luck is on my side,"* the Princess of Seduction purred. *"The South Kingdom just handed itself to me. A direct link to the king's inner circle, right under their noses."*
She rose from the seat and looked at herself in a nearby mirror.
*"Now… all I have to do is change hosts. This body is getting dull."*
Her eyes glowed faintly as she began preparing for her next move. The South would fall—beautifully, slowly, and without a single sword drawn.
*Inside the East Kingdom*
Mortice and Aris slipped past the gates and into the bustling streets of the East Kingdom. The air smelled of baked goods and spiced oils, children ran past laughing, and the town square pulsed with life.
"So… what now?" Aris asked, glancing around.
Mortice scanned the street and spotted a small bakery nestled between two shops. A sly smile spread across her face. "I have an idea," she said.
They approached the bakery casually. Mortice reached into her cloak and conjured a handful of shimmering gold, the coins warm and pulsing faintly with demonic energy. She laid them gently on the counter.
"We have gold for sale," she said sweetly to the baker behind the counter. "Real. Untouched. Yours."
The baker's eyes widened. Greed overrode caution. He reached out and touched the gold.
*And froze.*
His body stiffened like stone, locked in place—his mind now bound to Mortice's will.
"Now," Mortice purred, "get us some fresh bread, then sit and tell us everything we need to know. The East Kingdom, its people, its power… and most importantly, its weaknesses."
The baker blinked once—slow, obedient—then turned robotically toward the shelves to gather bread, moving like a statue come to life.
Aris snorted. "I never thought this would be *this* easy. When do we get to change hosts? This one stinks of flour and regret."
Mortice smirked. "Patience. We change hosts once we've squeezed every last secret from this place."
She turned to the baker once more. "And one more thing—prepare a hot bath. We could use a little comfort while we dismantle your kingdom."
The two demons laughed as the scent of warm bread filled the room—along with the scent of betrayal.