Eighteen

It started after my lord fell in love with the lovely Lady Amaryllis, daughter of Pride: Jairus. She was as lovely as a rose probably received from her mother lust. Her hair was as black as ebony, my lord often described it as freshly ground ink or the petals of black roses. Her face was fair and soft, or sharp and hard, depending on the light, her skin pale and her eyes a sparkling grey like ash turned crystals. They’d known each other since childhood, like most fairytale couples they had promised to always be together, not let anyone break them apart.

Alas, Lady Amaryllis married another man. A wealthy man from a merchant family who had saved her from human traffickers: she said it was love at first sight. My lord was devastated. Demons only fell in love once, she was his One, he clearly wasn’t hers.