CHAPTER THREE
Kael did not speak to her.
Not once.
He walked ahead of Reyna with measured, unhurried strides, his presence heavy and distant, as though she were not worth acknowledgment. He offered no instructions. Issued no warnings. He did not even glance back to see if she followed.
And yet—Reyna felt his attention on her all the same.
Demons could hear thoughts.
It was as natural to them as breathing—unguarded whispers of the mind drifting effortlessly into another's awareness.
Kael heard nothing from her.
That unsettled him.
At first, he tested it subtly, brushing the edges of his consciousness toward her. Then more deliberately. Still—nothing. No fear‑thoughts. No panic. No desperate prayers clawing at the air.
Only silence.
Humans were weak. Beneath demons in every way that mattered. That truth was as old as the realms themselves.
So why could he not hear her?
And why—of all humans—had Prince Damiel claimed this one?
They reached a waiting carriage.
It was massive—crafted from black lacquered obsidian edged in gold. Its wheels were carved with ancient sigils that shimmered faintly as they turned, and shadow‑steeds stood harnessed at the front, their eyes glowing dimly while smoke curled from their nostrils.
Kael opened the door without a word.
Reyna climbed inside, her movements careful, restrained, as though afraid the carriage itself might strike her.
The ride was silent.
The palace faded behind them, replaced by vast open grounds and ancient paths that stretched far beyond what Reyna had imagined royal land could hold. Time blurred. Distance stretched until her sense of direction vanished entirely.
Then—
A castle rose before her.
Reyna's breath caught.
It was enormous.
Dark stone towers speared the sky, threaded with veins of silver that pulsed faintly like a living thing. Walls curved outward in protective arcs, enclosing vast courtyards, battlements, and inner keeps that spoke not of inherited power—but claimed power.
This was not King Eldron's palace.
This was Prince Damiel's dominion.
Reyna had heard rumors in Asheville—whispers of how King Eldron had abandoned his youngest son- Prince Damiel - in a shed meant for unwanted tools and discarded materials, far from the main palace yet still within its walls. How that forgotten prince had turned that shed into the largest and most powerful castle in all six realms.
Standing before it now, Reyna realized the rumors did no justice to the structure.
Nor to the man who had built it.
The carriage passed through towering gates.
Inside, the world changed.
Gardens stretched wide on either side of the path—filled with flowers Reyna had never seen before. Their petals were black as midnight, edged delicately in silver that caught the light like frost. They swayed without wind, releasing a faint, unfamiliar scent—cool, metallic, hauntingly beautiful.
Even the flowers were not meant for humans.
The carriage finally stopped.
Kael stepped down first, then extended a hand—not to help her, but to indicate she should move.
Reyna descended quickly.
The moment her feet touched the ground, she felt it.
Eyes.
Demons everywhere—guards, servants, soldiers. Conversations stilled. Whispers followed her like smoke curling through the air.
A human.
In Prince Damiel's castle.
She was the first.
Some looked at her with open disgust. Others with sharp, burning envy—envy she did not understand, only felt.
Kael led her into the kitchens, warm with fire and movement. Demons worked with swift precision, their hands steady, expressions hard and focused, that seems to turn to something else the moment they saw her.
And there in the middle, stood High Steward Maerith.
She was impossible to miss.
Her deep red hair flowed freely down to her waist, catching the firelight like molten flame. Her eyes—burning crimson—were framed by fine lines that spoke of centuries lived, yet her face was flawless, her beauty untouched by time. She looked both young and ancient, and Reyna could not understand how both could exist at once.
When her gaze fell on Reyna, something softened within it.
Kael inclined his head.
"By the prince's order. He purchased her at the Feast. She is assigned as his personal slave, to be taught all she needs to serve the Prince."
Maerith nodded once. "Understood."
Kael turned to Reyna for the first time since they had arrived, studying her with a careful, unreadable look.
Then, without another word, he left.
The weight of his departure pressed down hard.
Reyna felt smaller than ever.
Maerith stepped calmly to her side. " Am Maerith, what's your name", High Seward Maerith said.
"Am Reyna, nice to meet you", Reyna said calmly, as Maerith smiled in return.
"Come with me, let's get you clean up", maerith said, she was right Reyna was a complete mess, her once white cloth was now dirty and muddy, there was small stains on her face, and her arms and feet were muddy.
She led Reyna away from the staring eyes, through quieter corridors carved from dark stone. Soft demon‑light lined the walls, casting a warm glow over floors worn smooth by centuries of use. The servant quarters were modest but well‑kept—clean, orderly, and surprisingly warm.
"This will be yours," Maerith said gently, opening a door.
Reyna's room was small but welcoming—a narrow bed with dark linens, a wooden chest, and a single window overlooking an inner courtyard where silver light filtered through.
Next, Maerith showed her the bathhouse.
Steam curled through the air. Stone basins brimmed with warm, scented water, etched with protective runes.
"Wash," Maerith instructed. "I'll return."
When Reyna was clean, Maerith brought her clothing.
A palace maid's uniform.
White fabric, soft and unadorned, with thin red outlines tracing the shoulders. Simple yet elegant.
When Reyna returned to the kitchens, the reaction was immediate.
Whispers sharpened. Jealousy flared openly.
The uniform was plain—
But Reyna was not.
A demon girl stepped forward, her lips curling in disdain. Her name was Lysara—once praised as the most beautiful among the servants, her features sharp and striking, her eyes burning with resentment.
"Well," Lysara sneered, "looks like the slave thinks she belongs here."
A few demons laughed softly.
Maerith's expression shifted.
Cold.
Sharp.
"Back to work," she said quietly.
The room fell silent.
No one dared argue.
Maerith turned to Reyna and handed her a bowl—dark stone etched with silver runes—filled with thick stew of spiced meat, warm bread resting atop it, steam rising invitingly.
"Eat first," she said firmly.
Reyna obeyed, the warmth spreading through her body for the first time since chains had dragged her into Avalon.
"When you're done eating I'll teach you what you must know to serve Prince Damiel." she said calmly.
Reyna nodded, her heart tight in her chest.
WEST WING OF PRINCE DAMIEL CASTLE
Prince Damiel appeared within his chambers—haven chosen not to ride in a carriage, needing space to think.
Especially about the girl he had brought.
And Reyna—unreadable, human—had already unsettled his world without speaking a single word.