39

As the night wore out, the demon lord paced around in the gardens, irritated and disgusted by Vesper's advances. She had to collect herself if she wanted to continue the alliance with him. He was going to make that clear. It was the thousand time something like that had happened to him, they had done worse. They had undressed in front of him without any shame, offered their body. But he didn't need it. He didn't care. But they didn't understand. No one did. 

As every night, he did the same, he climbed to the highest peak of his tower and observed the sky. It was what brought peace to him. He was drawn to space, and to every single mystery of it. Just like he was drawn to....to....he didn't finish that thought. It was forbidden.

Vesper's words rang on his mind, like a constant thorn that he couldn't get rid of. How dare she? These words really hit the nerve. He had tripled the security around Regan's chamber and had fired those guards who let her out. He wasn't going to let her out ever again.

He ended up in his study again, eyes falling on the broken mirror at the table, the jagged sharp glass glistering in the dim lighting. His fists clenched. He couldn't watch what she was doing. The mirror had been found broken days ago, and he had punished everyone he suspected.

He sat down and ran his hand over a pile of blank papers. Grabbing a pencil, he found himself sketching his princess, her beautiful eyes, the curve of her lips, the way her hair hung in waves around her shoulders. He had watched her for so long that her image was permanently carved in his mind, even if he didn't have a mirror, or her in front of him. He knew every single thing about her.

But the realization of what he was doing hit hard. He growled at himself. It wasn't the first time he drew her. It had been going on for long and it was driving him crazy. He crumbled and burnt the paper on his hand until it was nothing but ashes. What a fool he was, thinking she'd ever be his willingly.

He stood up from the desk and walked over to the window, seeing the bloodied sun had risen, a red hue taking over the sky. It was the eclipse. One that meant he should restrain using his dark powers. But with everything that surrounded him, it was nearly impossible.

After a moment or two, after he had composed himself and forgotten he had just drawn her, he decided to teach her a lesson. He had to tell her the consequences of her actions, teach her a lesson.

The corridors were silent as he exited his study. He had to frighten her, if not give her physical punishment.

The guards immediately bowed when he showed, their posture rigid.

"Regan," his voice cold and stern, "we need to have a little talk," he called behind the door.

Regan was laying on the bed, her mind wide awake with thoughts. She hadn't slept at all, not a single minute. She had thought all night about Sirius and Vesper, the absurd dream, and Mathias of course. Her eyes had been at the door, the dagger clutched under the blanket. It was as if she had been expecting Sirius or some guard to burst in from moment to moment and announce her doom.

And when she heard his voice, that was the final straw. Her nerves were all struck and seeing him again only intensified her anxiety. With a deep breath, she dragged herself to open the damn door, only to meet his cold and piercing gaze.

"What do you want?" she asked, her voice hoarse. It was still holding defiance, despite the fear evident in her eyes.

"I want to know why the hell you thought it was a good idea to free a prisoner from my dungeons," Sirius snapped, his voice sharp with anger. "You really thought I wasn't going to find out?" He stepped inside and slammed the door shut, towering over her. His eyes shifted between icy to crimson and Regan's heart sank.

He had found out. Of course he would. "I don't have anything to do with that," she retorted and turned away.

He grabbed her arm, pulling her to face him, "Don't you dare deny, Regan. You always want to be the hero, don't you?" He leaned closer, his voice menacing. "But your so-called kindness is merely ignorance."

Regan's heart raced with anger and uncertainty when she found herself that close. She jerked her arm away, "Stay away from me!" she warned, her eyes blazing with fire. "I didn't free him!"

Undeterred, Sirius continued, "Do you know who was that bastard that you freed? He was a rapist, a murderer! That's where your mercy lies. Do you ever think, or is it easier for you to drown in lies, to think that I am the villain who prisoners them for fun?" 

Regan was speechless for a moment, her throat dry. Was he saying the truth? She had almost given him the key herself but she hadn't been stupid to not know he was there for a reason. He had taken the key forcefully!

"I didn't free him!" she repeated again, trying to keep her voice steady, "He took the key forcefully!"

"From where?" Sirius demanded, stepping closer, "Where?"

"From me," she admitted, the pressure of his eyes unbearable.

"And what was the key doing in your hand?"

Regan didn't know how to answer, she felt trapped and her heart was pounding like a frightened bird in a cage. "Well, what's done it's done," she finally said, "What are you going to do about it?"

"You don't get to say that," Sirius retorted, a cold smirk forming in his lips. "Your actions have consequences, my dear. If the ladies out there are harassed because of you, it's your fault, not mine."

And then at his words Regan felt a surge of anger, "And what about your playroom?" she threw at him, her eyes filled with anger and disgust, "He told me about it. What are you going to do? You're going to send me there too?"

Sirius's smirk slipped and his expression turned to a mix of anger and surprise, "What playroom?" he snapped, his eyes narrowing with a hint of curiosity.

Regan cursed herself, realizing she had played the cards too fast. She had hoped to bait him with the mention of the playroom, but maybe he was faking ignorance. Or perhaps Mathias had lied to her.

"Well, you bring women there and do things to them," she said, trying to keep the tremor out of her voice.

"And why do I have to bring them in a playroom to do 'things' to them?" Sirius asked, his voice low and dangerously calm. "I could do it anywhere I like."

Regan's breath caught in her throat. She hadn't anticipated that response, "I mean, you punish them, right? For being disrespectful or... disobedient?" she stumbled, her mind racing to recover.

Sirius leaned against the wall, his arms crossed, watching her intently. "Dear Ylor, that's called discipline. And of course, everyone who breaks the rules, man or woman, must face the consequences."

But Regan didn't know how much she believed that. Mathias's words had worked excellently with her already cynical perspective. And he hadn't answered her question, "And how are you going to punish me?" she asked, feeling a strange hope despite herself.

Sirius's expression was unreadable, "I don't own you any explanation," he said coldly, "You're not allowed to step out from this room anymore. You should've known better than to meddle with my matters."

"You meddle with everything I have and now you get mad when I retaliate?" she shot back, her chin raised, "I'm your enemy, not your prisoners. And as for Mathias, you'll find him and you'll punish him. And I, I'll never find my childhood again."

"Your childhood has nothing to do with that," Sirius retorted, though there was a weird softness in his icy eyes. But before he could say something, a knock on the door interrupted him. He cursed under his breath, his frustration evident. "We're not finished, princess," he said, shooting Regan a warning glare before striding towards the door.

Outside the door was Vlad, standing there with a stoic, but restless expression. "What is it?" Sirius snapped, his irritation palpable.

"My apologies for the interruption, but there's an urgent matter that requires your attention," Vlad said, his tone respectful but firm.

Sirius sighed, his frustration evident, "What is it now?"

Vlad hesitated for a moment before speaking, "The escaped prisoner, Mathias, has been causing havoc in the town. He's rallied a group of rebels, and they're protesting against your rule."

Sirius clenched his fists, the news fueling his frustration. "Damnit, this is unacceptable. How did it escalate so quickly?"

Vlad explained, "The rebels claim oppression and injustice, using Mathias as their symbol. They're gaining support from the townspeople who are discontent with your reign."

"Handle this immediately. I won't tolerate rebellion in my domain. Crush it before it spreads further," Sirius ordered, his irritation raising. "Kill everyone who disobeys. I don't have time for any of these petty rebellions."

The general nodded and left to execute the orders. Sirius sighed heavily, his infuriation with Regan unshakable. She was causing trouble under his own roof.

And yet, he couldn't punish her the way he would punish anyone else.

Regan meanwhile, was leaning against the door, trying to hear any words from their rushed exchanges. She didn't want to admit she was eavesdropping, she was just curious. And she did hear about the rebellion spreading.

So she had stirred out trouble indeed, and she couldn't help but feel a strange kind of power, mixed with guilt. And the last won.

Purposefully or not, she had been the reason why Mathias escaped. But she had never wanted to free that kind of person. "Oh, God," Regan said, walking away from the door, "I'm sorry."

She wished her pet was here, looking at her with those sparkling doe eyes. But she had left, and now she had nothing to do except from sitting down and thinking. The way he had talked about the playroom in a sense of discipline, it didn't make it any better, though he denied calling it one.

But she didn't trust anything he said, she couldn't afford it. His words about the world outside, they were meant to scare her. But they didn't, it all made her want to get out of here again. Even though she had no opportunity right now.

And the way he talked about Mathias, it was as if he was better than him. Regan couldn't help the sneer that formed in her face. She remembered when he spoke about other kingdoms, his strange disdain for lust, greed, whatever he had said. "What a hypocrite," Regan murmured to herself bitterly. 

He was the embodiment of all these traits, and much, much worse. A criminal, a tyrant, a manipulative demon, in the disguise of a beautiful face. And who knew what depraved mind lay under all that cover.

"Liar," Regan muttered again, her hands curling into fists. Seraphina was right, she couldn't trust his words about her parents. He was like everyone else, corrupted to the core.