The silence in the Grand Ballroom dragged on, growing so tense it felt like it might break at any moment.
King Theodoric held the balcony railing tightly, his knuckles turning white. His face was pale, making him look older and afraid. Next to him, Princess Fiona stood still, her smile frozen in shock.
"Mirabelle?" the King croaked. "But... we saw you fall."
"I did fall," Mirabelle said as she walked farther into the room. The crowd moved aside for her, nobles pulling back from the dirt and the strange darkness around her. "I fell into the dark. And I found something there."
"This is impossible!"
Father Malachi, the High Priest, forced his way through the crowd. He was a fat man in red robes, sweating heavily. He pointed a shaking finger at Mirabelle.
"The sacrifice is absolute! Once given, the Abyss does not return! This... this thing is not the Princess! It is a shade! A demon wearing her skin!"
The guards around the room drew their swords. The metallic sound echoed through the hall.
Mirabelle stayed calm. She ignored the guards and kept her eyes on the High Priest.
"A demon?" she repeated softly. "You call your own Princess a demon because she survived?"
"Seize her!" Malachi screamed, his spit flying. "Kill the abomination before it curses us all!"
Three guards charged.
Revas let out a sigh, full of disappointment.
"So rude," he muttered. "Interrupting a lady."
He moved.
He didn't reach for a weapon or change into his monster form. He just stepped in front of Mirabelle and stomped his foot.
BOOM.
There was no physical impact. Instead, a wave of pure, focused Killing Intent swept through the room.
The air in the room grew heavy. The stained glass windows shook in their frames. The three guards charging forward stopped suddenly, unable to move. Their knees gave out, and they fell to the floor, overcome by fear and started to vomit.
Everyone in the ballroom gasped. Some nobles grabbed their chests as the air felt thin and cold.
Revas stood over the guards on the floor and brushed off his coat. He looked at the High Priest, his violet eyes shining with a faint, dangerous light.
"I would advise against drawing weapons," Revas said, his voice smooth and projecting to every corner of the room. "My Lady is tired. And I have a very short temper when she is threatened."
King Theodoric found his voice. "Who... who are you?"
Revas gave a dramatic, mocking bow, placing one hand over his heart and sweeping the other out wide.
"I am Lord Revas," he lied effortlessly. "Guardian of the Deep. Keeper of the Pact. And the personal protector of the Chosen One."
He stood up straight and motioned toward Mirabelle.
"The Chosen One?" Fiona spoke up, her voice shrill. "She is a sacrifice! She was food for the monster!"
Mirabelle stepped forward, standing beside Revas. She looked up at her sister, her expression serene, almost pitying.
"The Monster did not want food, sister," Mirabelle lied, her voice clear and ringing with false pity. "The Great Guardian of the Abyss spoke to me. He told me that he is tired of your offerings. He is tired of the corruption in this city."
She raised her hand, showing the iron bracelet that matched the invisible collar Revas wore.
"He spared me," Mirabelle declared. "He appointed me his Voice. I am not a sacrifice anymore. I am his Saintess."
A murmur spread through the crowd. "Saintess?" "Did the Monster speak?"
Father Malachi turned purple. "Blasphemy! The Beast is a mindless eater of worlds! It has no voice! It has no—"
Revas appeared in front of the Priest.
No one saw him move. One second he was by Mirabelle, the next he was towering over the fat priest.
Revas leaned down and sniffed the priest's neck.
"You smell like pork," Revas whispered, loud enough for the front row to hear.
Malachi squeaked, stumbling back.
"The Beast has a voice," Revas said, his smile terrifyingly wide. "And he is very displeased with the quality of the clergy. He finds you... greasy."
Revas turned toward the King.
"King Theodoric," Revas said, his tone shifting to one of icy formality. "Your daughter has returned, blessed by the very power you fear. If you strike her down, you declare war on the Abyss itself."
Revas' eyes narrowed, and for a moment, the illusion faded. The King saw the shadow of the World Eater behind him: white hair, red eyes, and endless hunger.
The King staggered back, clutching his chest. He recognized the aura. It was the terror his ancestors had warned him about.
"She... she is blessed," the King whispered, terrified.
"Father!" Fiona hissed, grabbing his arm. "You can't believe this!"
"Silence!" the King shouted. He looked at Revas, then at Mirabelle. He saw their power and the guards on the floor. He weighed his options.
If he killed her, the monster might attack. If he accepted her, he could control the "Saintess."
"A miracle," the King declared, his voice trembling. He raised his hands. "A miracle! The Abyss has returned our daughter! The Gods have smiled upon us!"
The crowd, confused but following the King, started to clap. At first it was hesitant, then it grew louder.
Mirabelle watched them. The same people who cheered for her death were now cheering for her return. She thought it was all a farce.
She looked at Revas, who was winking at a frightened Duchess in the front row. "Welcome home, Mirabelle," Fiona said from the balcony. Her eyes were cold, promising murder.
Mirabelle gave a deep, mocking curtsy.
"Thank you, sister," she said. "I have so much to tell you. I'm sure we're going to have a wonderful time."
Revas offered his arm to her again.
"Well played, Saintess," he whispered in her ear as the music nervously started up again. "Although, I really did want to eat the priest. He looked like he was filled with custard."
"Later," Mirabelle whispered back. "We have the run of the palace now. We can eat them one by one."
Revas grinned. "I love a buffet."