The dungeon was not as bad as Ethan expected.
Sure, it was underground, dimly lit, and smelled faintly of sulfur and wet stone. Chains clinked ominously in the shadows, and the occasional scream from deeper within sent shivers racing down his spine. But compared to what he imagined—fiery pits, eternal torment, being gnawed on by imps—it was almost… cozy.
His cell had straw, at least. And a bucket. Luxury accommodations, really.
Ethan sat cross-legged in the corner, staring at the flickering torchlight beyond the bars. "Okay," he muttered to himself. "Stay calm. She didn't kill you right away. That's a good sign. Probably means she's waiting until tomorrow to do it in front of an audience. Or worse… maybe she's marinating me."
His stomach growled. "Great. I'm going to be demon stew."
The door to the dungeon groaned open. Heavy footsteps echoed down the corridor, accompanied by the unmistakable click of heels. The guards snapped to attention as the sound drew closer.
And then, she appeared.
The Demon Queen Lilith.
No crown rested on her brow, but she didn't need one. Every step she took radiated authority, grace, and danger. She wore a long gown of dark silk that clung to her curves, embroidered with silver patterns that seemed to writhe when the torchlight hit them. Her crimson eyes burned brighter in the dim hall, focused solely on him.
Ethan scrambled to his feet, nearly tripping over the bucket. "Your—Your Majesty! Hi! Fancy seeing you here. Well, not fancy. Expected, really. Please don't kill me."
The guards smirked, clearly enjoying the sight of a trembling human addressing their queen like a stammering fool.
Lilith stopped in front of his cell. For a long moment, she said nothing, merely studying him as though he were some odd specimen in a jar. Ethan resisted the urge to fidget.
Finally, she spoke.
"You intrigue me."
Ethan blinked. "Intrigue? As in… the kind where you want to study me? Or the kind where you want to dissect me?"
Her lips curved slightly. "Perhaps both."
He gulped.
"I should destroy you for your insolence," she continued, her tone smooth and measured. "A human trespassing in my sanctum, daring to gaze upon me without permission, daring to speak such… reckless words."
"Reckless?" Ethan squeaked. "I just said you were pretty! That's not reckless, that's—okay, yes, maybe it's reckless if the person you say it to can turn you into ash with a snap of her fingers. But I meant it! Honestly!"
Lilith's gaze flickered, just for an instant.
She moved closer, so close her presence pressed against the bars like a physical force. "Do you know what your words mean, mortal? To call me beautiful. To look at me without fear. To smile, even, as though I were…" She trailed off, the faintest crease of confusion on her brow. "…as though I were ordinary."
Ethan swallowed hard. "Ordinary isn't the word I'd use. Maybe… lonely?"
The dungeon went silent. Even the guards shifted uncomfortably, as though the air had grown heavier.
Lilith's eyes narrowed dangerously. "Choose your next words carefully."
Ethan's mouth worked faster than his brain, as usual. "I just mean—being Queen must be hard. Everyone's probably terrified of you all the time. No one laughs around you. No one teases you. You're this… untouchable figure on a throne. Doesn't that get lonely?"
A hush fell over the chamber.
The guards stiffened, ready to strike him down if their Queen gave the order. Ethan braced himself for immolation.
But instead of incinerating him, Lilith… looked away.
Only for a second. But it was enough.
When her gaze returned to him, it was sharper, defensive. "You presume much for a mortal."
Ethan lifted his hands in surrender. "Hey, I'm just guessing! I don't know anything about demon royalty. For all I know, you throw wild parties every night with lava fountains and fire-breathing jugglers."
The faintest twitch tugged at her lips again. Quickly, she masked it with a scoff.
"You are insufferable," she said.
"Yeah," Ethan agreed instantly. "But charmingly so, right?"
That did it. The guards chuckled despite themselves. One quickly coughed into his fist to cover it, but the sound still echoed in the dungeon.
Lilith's gaze snapped to them, and they fell silent at once, standing straighter than pikes. Then her eyes slid back to Ethan, unreadable.
"You test my patience," she murmured. "And yet…" She stepped back gracefully. "There is something… refreshing in your idiocy."
Ethan frowned. "Uh… thanks?"
"You will not be executed. Not yet."
Relief flooded him. "Oh, thank the gods—"
"Instead," she continued, cutting him off, "you will remain here until I decide what purpose you might serve."
"Purpose?" Ethan repeated nervously. "Like… jester? Diplomat? Royal taste-tester? Because I have to warn you, my palate is terrible. Everything tastes like chicken."
She ignored his rambling, turning on her heel. Her gown whispered softly as she strode back toward the exit, guards trailing behind her.
At the door, she paused.
Without looking back, she said quietly, "Be grateful, mortal. Few who see me in such a state live to tell of it."
And then she was gone.
Ethan slumped against the bars, exhaling shakily. "Yep. I'm doomed. Completely doomed. And somehow I flirted with her again. Why am I like this?"
From the shadows of the next cell, an imprisoned goblin whispered, "You smooth, human. Very smooth."
Ethan groaned.
That night, he lay on the straw, staring at the ceiling. His thoughts tangled in knots.
She should have killed him. Every instinct screamed that was the logical outcome. Yet she hadn't.
Instead, she'd looked… almost human. Vulnerable, even.
"Lonely," he murmured again. The word felt dangerous, but it fit.
And that laugh.
The sound of it replayed in his head, soft and haunting.
What kind of idiot makes the Demon Queen laugh?
Apparently, this idiot.
And as he drifted toward uneasy sleep, one thought lingered above all others:
He might not die tomorrow.
Which meant he was in far more trouble than he realized.