I'M Not A Demon

After the Banquet

The moment I stepped into my chambers, the scent of incense curled in the air, mingling with the faint trace of jasmine oil lingering on my wrists. My red dress trailed behind me like a river of fire, the silken fabric whispering against the marble floor. The night air outside was cool, crisp, a stark contrast to the heat of triumph simmering beneath my skin.

Mousy, practically bouncing on his tiny feet, could barely contain his excitement. His round ears twitched as he chirped, "You are so awesome, Host! I was going to suggest you cater to his tastes and wear a light-colored dress to the banquet, but—"

I smirked, reclining onto the plush silk cushions as a maid silently poured me tea. The golden liquid shimmered under the candlelight, the ripples dancing as I tapped the rim of my cup.

"What do you know, Mousy?" My voice was lazy, indulgent. "Men are creatures of sight before anything else. They love beauty, but more than that, they love contrast. To truly captivate, one must be a contradiction. To weep in white is expected. To weep in red…" I tilted my head, watching the flickering candlelight cast shadows along the polished walls. "It burns itself into their minds. Sorrow wrapped in fire—it's unforgettable."

Mousy's ears twitched, his admiration practically radiating off his tiny form. "Then can we keep going with this play? Either way, you have no problem shedding fake tears…"

A low chuckle escaped me as I reached out, running a single finger across his soft fur. My touch was light, almost tender.

"Mousy, let me teach you something for free." My voice turned languid, teasing. "Do you know why white lotuses always win?"

He tilted his tiny head.

"Because they're willing to get dirty. A true seductress understands—once a white lotus is stained, it can never be pure again."

Mousy clapped his tiny hands, his beady eyes glimmering with admiration. "That's my Host! Fiercer than a tigress!"

The chamber fell into a hush, broken only by the soft rustling of my gown as I shifted against the cushions. The game had only just begun, and tonight… tonight, I would set the pieces in place.

---

Later That Night

Aasma entered the chamber with hesitant, shuffling steps. She fell to her knees the moment she reached the center, the cold marble pressing against her flesh as she bowed so low her forehead touched the ground.

"Consort Sefa," she whimpered, her voice trembling like a leaf caught in a storm. "Spare my life! Your humble servant was wrong. I shouldn't have betrayed you!"

I watched her with mild amusement, idly stirring my tea, watching the golden liquid swirl like liquid sunlight.

"When I was teaching Noor Giza a lesson, it was you who ran off to tell the emperor, wasn't it?" My voice was soft, almost affectionate. "And this time, with the imperial edict…" I took a slow sip, letting the silence stretch just long enough to make her squirm. "You really are an obedient little doggy. However, Aasma, did your mistress ever tell you what would happen if you were found out?"

Aasma's breath hitched. Panic flickered in her wide eyes, and for a moment, I saw the calculation there—the desperate attempt to salvage whatever shred of favor she still had.

I sighed dramatically, setting my cup down with a soft clink. "Don't be so frightened. I'm not a demon." I leaned forward, lowering my voice to a silken whisper. "Now, go back to Noor Giza. I don't need to teach you how to be a spy, do I?"

Aasma swallowed hard, her entire body trembling.

"Be a good girl." My tone turned almost playful, like a cat toying with a trapped bird. "Whether your parents and brother continue their peaceful lives outside the palace… that depends entirely on you."

Aasma bowed so deeply her forehead smacked against the floor. "Yes… Yes, Your Grace." She staggered to her feet, her legs nearly giving out beneath her.

Mousy, who had been watching her retreating figure with a suspicious squint, turned to me. "Can she be trusted?"

I let out a soft, knowing chuckle.

"She was never trustworthy before," I murmured, picking up my tea once more. "But now… it's hard to tell." My fingers traced the rim of the cup in slow, thoughtful circles. "She has always been secretly in love with the Ninth Duke, and he…" My lips curled into a smirk. "He is clearly infatuated with Noor Giza."

Mousy's nose twitched. "So?"

I exhaled softly, my smile deepening. "The man she loves is nothing but a toy in another woman's hands. Tsk, tsk. There is nothing more dangerous than a woman's jealousy."

I took a slow sip, savoring the warmth of the tea, and let my mind paint the inevitable chaos that would soon unfold.

Aasma was a pawn, yes. But even pawns, when properly positioned, could bring down queens.

A slow, satisfied smile stretched across my lips.

"I almost pity her," I murmured, setting my cup down. "Almost."