Daniela had purposefully chosen the farthest seat at the long dining table, nowhere near the princes, kings, or queens. She looked isolated and alone, and that was the point. She could no longer fly under the radar, but she had garnered more than enough attention. It was time to see what fruit she could bear.
Ashley sat on Jasper's right, a small, self-satisfied smile playing on her lips. She was pleased that she had managed to snag the best seat. While Daniela had been on the balcony having a falling out of sorts with Prince Eric, the other princesses had made the reasonable plan to ensure Daniela sat at the very end of the table. She needed to be diminished, made less present.
"I hear you have a joy for swords, Prince Jasper," Ashley said, attempting to start a conversation. He was exceptionally quiet, and she didn't understand how Daniela always seemed to get a reaction out of him. Every time she got close to him, she felt as if she was speaking to stone. Ashley fidgeted with the lace on her cuff as he didn't speak a single word, her unease growing.
"I quite enjoy jokes. I am known to have a wicked sense of humor, Prince Jasper," Heather chimed in from just one chair away, leaning slightly toward him in hopes he would speak to her.
"Are you the court jester?" Dahlia asked the silly girl who believed a good quip would gain her son's attention. "Go on, dear, beguile us with your wit?"
A maid walked gracefully past, her arms laden with a silver tray of fresh pastries, her presence a soft, momentary blur of movement. The air shifted, marking the transition from the strained silence around Jasper to the painfully uninteresting conversation across the table where Miguel sat.
"I have fought in many skirmishes in my father's army. I have complete control over my air magic. I am the strongest air-contra amongst the group, probably in the entire kingdoms. My mother gave birth to one daughter and four sons. And her mother before her—" Miguel could not understand why Bella was polluting his breakfast with her inconsequential muttering.
At the furthest end of the table, Daniela grinned and chuckled. The soft sound easily made its way to the very opposite side of the long dining table. The princesses felt mocked and diminished; with that simple chuckle, she had drawn all eyes to herself and didn't even bother to capitalize on it. She ate her porridge and drank her tea in complete and utter serenity.
"How was your rest, Princess Daniela?"
Daniela had to stop her eyes from widening as she heard Prince Landon shout down the table as if he were at a tournament, his voice carrying in the now-silent dining area.
He really did remind her of her father in this world. He was socially clumsy; when he wasn't quiet, he was too loud, and he was extremely passionate about anything he cared about.
"It was quite well. Thank you for your inquiry, Prince Landon. You are too kind to me."
Daniela paused, carefully setting her teacup back into its saucer, stopping the humorous smile from growing on her lips as she raised her voice, unceremoniously, to respond to Landon. It was ridiculous, but it was very cute. She could only imagine how loud she would need to yell if there were still 300 women. This dining room had been scaled down to accommodate the new numbers, and with only a little under 60 princesses left, the room was starting to feel quite large and empty. "How was your rest Prince Landon?"
"I hunted for a good portion of the evening, but when I did rest, it was refreshing!" he answered back with excitement, happy that she wanted to know how his evening went.
"I am glad!" She chuckled, giving him a kind smile. He really was like a baby bear.
Jasper's chair scraped loudly against the expensive floor as he abruptly rose from his seat. His steps echoed with purposeful resonance as he made his way down the line of princesses until he reached Daniela. She was seated in her chair, no longer eating; her meal had been removed, and she was simply sipping on some tea.
"Follow." His words were low and whispered directly into her ear so no one else but her could hear him.
A servant poured a fresh stream of steaming tea into a nearby princess's cup, the gentle clink of the porcelain and the soft hiss of the steam marking Jasper and Daniela's movement away from the table.
Standing, she gave a polite bow to the Kings and Queens before following Jasper to the balcony she had been on earlier.
Jasper went straight to the edge of the balcony, easily stepping onto its railing. The warm sunlight illuminated his pale skin.
"Will you join me?" he asked, looking down at her as her hip was easily leaning against the railing.
"Only one of us has wings!" she answered as she looked at the rushing water below, remembering how he rescued her the last time.
"I'll save you."
"We don't how to save anyone!" she murmured, reaching her hand up to him.
He easily pulled her onto the ledge, his arm wrapping around her waist to keep her steady before releasing her entirely.
"The view looks better when you have something to lose."
It was strange; Daniela felt like he was in a good mood, but at the same time, something seemed off about him.
Her heeled shoes were the last thing she should wear on this ledge, but it was a beautiful sight. She turned to face him, her arms crossed over her chest.
"Is something wrong?"
"My queen knows me so well!" Jasper intended for it to come out as a jest, but his words were more muted than he intended them to be.
"We are allies. If you cannot trust me, then who would you trust?"
It's not as if she wouldn't discover what was happening. "Demons have an inherent hunger. After your first kill, you're supposed to feel it. It's like you uncorked a bottle. I never have... Until I touched you. Once I tasted you, you ignited my hunger, and I don't know how to control it yet." He looked at her so seriously, with a tension of desire mixed with want.
"Me? Why would I ignite your hunger—"
"It's not because you are very pretty," he said, side-rolling his eyes as if he thought her ego was too big. "The gift in your chest. It is the most satiating thing I have ever tasted, and it is enough to make me feel as if I am starving every second."
Daniela placed a hand over her heart and offered a mock-offended gasp. "For a moment there, I thought I would have to listen to declarations of love about my unending beauty. Alas, I am just a savory meal for my future husband." She chuckled, a dry, nervous sound.
"The gift in your chest," he repeated, ignoring her joke. "It's the most satiating thing I have ever tasted. And it is enough to make me feel as if I am starving every second."
Daniela swallowed, her throat suddenly dry. This was more than what she had expected.
"So what do we do?"
"I spoke to my King father about it. He told me to keep fucking and killing maids for now! He said it's one of those things that runs its course. Eventually, you get to understand the hunger, and you just feed it. But right now, it's been starved for years, and he thinks I just need time."
Stepping closer to him, she looked up into his eyes—eyes that were as dark as coal but somehow felt as bright as the sun. "Should I stay away? I can't imagine a starving demon to be too delightful."
"No!" he growled, feeling his horns press against the skin of his scalp, but he was quick to suppress the urge. He didn't want to show his bestial form to everyone.
"Then I will stay at your side!"
He wasn't sure if he thought she was brave, stupid, or careless. A princess utterly defenseless, and still she always seemed to move closer to him—closer to darkness, closer to death, as if it was a path illuminated by the sky and not a dark, shadowy alleyway.
"What did Miguel and Eric speak to you about?"
"Miguel told me I smelled good, which was different. And Eric wanted to tell me that I should choose him because of all the women you sleep with. He wants to kill me, blah, blah, blah. And I swore to him that you are a gentleman and we are in love."
Jasper's eyes turned into crescents as he chuckled, the sound low and deep in his chest.
"I'm sure this was just his first attempt at sabotage. He will try again for sure. He's a cockroach."
The wind picked up, blowing around her dark green hair that she had left loose around her shoulders. His own curly mop of hair lifted in the wind.
The silence of their moment was only disturbed by the sound of three hard knocks on the ground, a rhythmic thud that announced Patrick was ready to make an announcement. The transition from their private moment to public duty was abrupt.
Jasper jumped down from the railing. Unlike his normal self, he didn't wait for Daniela to direct him. He grabbed her by her waist, easily placing her back on her feet. His fingers span the circumference of her middle, and he noted how vast the difference was between the size of his hand and the slender curve of her body. Her dress fabric was so thin that, for a startled second, he thought he felt raised scars, thin ridges of tissue beneath her ribs. He dismissed the feeling as the lining of her gown, but the confusion lingered. His fingers lingered on her sides for a moment past proper.
Only for her to brush them away. They went back through the balcony doors, and Jasper stood just behind her as they listened to Patrick's declaration. Daniela's hands were folded behind her back, only to feel his larger palm hold one of her hands. The gesture was so normal she found it odd, her eyes drifting to him over her shoulder, wondering what he was doing and why. But he looked just as confused as he stared at their joined hands.
Jasper had wondered if his hunger would completely disappear if he touched her, and he had been correct. The second their hands connected, his overwhelming appetite seemed to vanish. It was strange for a demon that was completely fueled off of intimacy, sex, and violence. Here he was, holding a tiny little princess's hand, and all of his hunger had dissipated as if it had never existed.
Dahlia leaned toward her husband, the fine silk of her gown whispering against his velvet tunic as she watched Jasper take Daniela's hand into his own.
Dahlia had changed her mind on Daniela since the previous night's excitement. Along with the other kings and queens of various kingdoms, they had all watched the massacre that happened during the evening and Daniela sleeping peacefully throughout it all. If the young women hadn't stopped fighting to speak about why everything had turned so chaotic, they would have never known that Daniela had poisoned them all and that she was the ultimate creator of this chaos.
As she watched Daniela's peaceful sleeping form against the violent tornado around her, she felt as if she could see Daniela as her daughter-in-law. She was formidable in a way that took patience, and dangerous to overlook. In that evening, Daniela had won Dahlia's vote of confidence. She was exactly the kind of queen that the demon province would like, and for an added bonus, her son did like her. Now it was only her husband who needed to be convinced. He was more open to Daniela, but he wasn't sold on her quite yet.
Dahlia tapped her husband's shoulder as she stared at Jasper, who had decided to take Daniela's hand into his own—her stoic and reserved, hostile son was finding simple joys in holding a young woman's hand. The gesture seemed completely misshapen when done by her son.
"Do you think he loves her?" Dahlia asked her husband.
"Jasper doesn't really love anything. He's probably just obsessed. When you are as young as him, it's hard to tell between obsession and love." His stepson was exceptionally odd, even for a demon. Anything was possible, but their kind wasn't known for their loving spirit.
Eric knew that they were being so close to spite him. That Daniela and Jasper were flaunting themselves in hopes that they would get a reaction out of him. Both of them were trying to ruin him. She knew that only he would be able to love her. No one cared about Daniela the way that he does. Eric understood her. She used to say that she loved him, and no one just said that. You only say that if you meant it, and he intended to hold her to those words. She loved him. Him only. Only him. There could be no one else. She deserved to be with someone proper, and he was the only right choice. He just needed time—time to make her understand that she was his, even if he had to force her to understand. The glass of blood in his hand trembled, a tiny, visible vibration. He calmed himself enough to swallow the liquid in one gulp, hoping the fresh blood would ease his restless soul. The blood of children was always so sweet; it had its own calming effect.