Shadows and Schemes

Evelyne paced inside her chambers, her mind racing.

She had just stood in the Demon King's throne room, facing his most trusted general, and given counsel on a political matter.

And Azrael had listened.

The realization unsettled her. She had expected resistance, mockery, or outright dismissal—but instead, she had been heard.

Did he truly value her opinion? Or was this another game, a way to measure her usefulness?

A knock at the door pulled her from her thoughts.

Lyria entered, her violet eyes gleaming with something between amusement and intrigue. "You look troubled."

Evelyne exhaled sharply. "I don't trust him."

Lyria chuckled, stepping closer. "Good. You shouldn't."

Evelyne frowned. "Then why did he ask for my advice? Why listen to me?"

Lyria studied her for a moment before answering. "Because Azrael is not like other demons."

Evelyne crossed her arms. "Meaning?"

Lyria's lips curled slightly. "He rules not only with power but with strategy. And strategy requires understanding all the pieces on the board—including you."

Evelyne's stomach tightened. "So I'm just a piece in his game."

Lyria tilted her head. "A powerful piece, if you know how to play."

The words unsettled her more than she cared to admit.

Evelyne sank onto the cushioned chair by the fireplace, staring into the flickering blue flames. "He's sending a message to the rebel faction."

Lyria nodded. "Yes. And if they agree to a meeting, you will stand beside him when it happens."

Evelyne's gaze snapped to hers. "He expects me to be there?"

Lyria smirked. "You offered counsel. Now you must prove you can wield the weight of your own words."

Evelyne gritted her teeth. She should have expected this.

Azrael didn't just want a queen in name. He wanted someone who could stand beside him in the den of demons.

And she had just walked willingly into the role.

Lyria leaned against the wall, watching her. "You should be careful, Evelyne."

Evelyne raised a brow. "Of what?"

Lyria's expression darkened. "Not everyone is pleased that you're here."

Evelyne swallowed. "You mean the rebels."

"I mean everyone," Lyria corrected. "Some demons despise humans. Some fear change. And some—" she hesitated, her gaze flickering toward the door before she continued, "—would rather see you dead than sitting beside our king."

A chill ran through Evelyne. "Does Azrael know?"

Lyria's lips curved into a knowing smile. "Azrael knows everything."

That should have reassured her.

It didn't.

Later that evening, Evelyne was summoned once more.

The corridors were eerily quiet as she followed the demon guard to Azrael's war room.

Unlike the grand throne room, this chamber was smaller, lined with dark stone and enchanted maps that pulsed with shifting golden light. Azrael stood near the table, his hands resting on the edges as he studied the markings.

Varian stood beside him, arms crossed.

Both turned when Evelyne entered.

"The rebels responded," Azrael said.

Evelyne forced herself to stand tall. "And?"

Varian smirked. "They agreed to a meeting."

A weight settled in her stomach. This was happening.

Azrael studied her, his golden gaze unreadable. "We leave at dawn."

She swallowed. "And if it's a trap?"

Azrael's smirk was slow, dangerous. "Then we remind them who they are dealing with."

Evelyne exhaled sharply.

Tomorrow, she would stand beside the Demon King, walking straight into enemy territory.

And she had no idea if she would walk back out.