Burning Witches

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The Empress Luna

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  "I don't know if there is a difference between being picked and being forced," Luna replied carefully, without traces of tears, fainting, and panic. "Do you recognize them, Your Highness?"

There was a disconcerting pause that made Luna held her breath in anticipation.

Luna kept her eyes wide as she slowly blinked, observing the King of Hell with utmost intent, regarding every nuance of his movement.

She could only rely on bodily cues when she couldn't see his facial expressions.

Luna considered it a victory when the Demon King tilted his head, and it was barely a degree.

She swallowed hard as they watched each other.

He had slightly rested his palm on his knee as he sat on the throne with his proper posture—like there was a stick up on his ass.