Sound swallowed the prince.
The instant his boots met the marble floor, the murmurs of the crowd rose. Dozens of gazes pressed down from rows and from above balconies.
And in the center, stood the demon king, and... Tonic.
Tonic flashed Joshua a smile, barely enough for the prince to notice, but not so much that the crowd would take issue.
"Walk with strength. Eyes forward. Do not bow." Veyla had told him.
So, he didn't. He kept his chin up, ignoring the weight of the room to the best of his ability.
At the far end of the chamber, elevated stone seats curved in a wide arc — each throne-like chair occupied by a demon lord or councilor, their horns gleaming under the crimson light. In the very center sat the Demon King, rigid and regal.
But he wasn't the one who made his way to the front. An old man adorned in black robes did.
Joshua blinked. The demon looked almost human...
High Counselor Vaelthar stood in front, leaning on a moonsilver staff. His white hair hung loosely down his back, his skin pale and thin as parchment, as though a stiff wind might tear him apart.
But his grey eyes were ancient and knowing. And standing directly behind him, silent as a blade resting in its sheath, was the Princess.
Lysandra.
The princess' attire wasn't what he expected. She bore a red dress, with faint silver tracing along it, almost like moonlight caught in motion.
Crimson hair fell straight down her back, tied high with a strip of cloth. Her horns swept back smoothly from her head, polished and simple, more elegant than threatening.
Her posture was disciplined, almost rigid, but the slight tightening of her fingers gave away something she wasn't showing. It lasted only a moment before she nodded at him.
…beautiful, the thought slipped in.
Not now Joshua. Maintain your bearing.
Vaelthar raised his head speaking. The counselor's voice was soft, but it carried the entire court.
"Prince Joshua Vale," Vaelthar said, the weight of centuries of authority behind each word, "step forward."
Joshua obliged. The runes beneath the platform brightened as if acknowledging him — or assessing him.
Vaelthar continued, voice steady as stone.
"The pact between our kingdom and the humans has lasted for over two centuries. A fragile treaty decided in the midst of the endless war between demons and humans."
The balconies murmured.
"Never," Vaelthar said, tone sharpening, "in our history… has a human lived past the first twenty-four hours within these walls."
A chill crept down his spine, but he forced his hands to stay at his sides.
"Never," Vaelthar went on, "has a Princess of our bloodline considered a human offering to be a suitable partner. Never... until now."
Several demons hissed. Others leaned forward with sudden predatory interest. Vaelthar's pale eyes locked onto Joshua's.
If they were waiting for fear, they'd be disappointed. I've lived with worse eyes on me.
"Prince Joshua Vale," the High Counselor continued, "Lysandra, daughter of the great King Darius Nightweave, has deemed you a candidate to become her partner."
The room erupted full of gasps, snarls, laughter, and outrage. The noise swelled like a physical force.
Joshua sighed. I wasn't prepared for this. For her. For any of it.
Tonic smirked beside the Demon King, though he hid it well. The King himself didn't move, but the faintest frown touched the corner of his mouth. Vaelthar, as if bored by the uproar, lifted a hand. Silence took over the room instantly.
"Step forward," he said again, "and do so with confidence. The kingdom is watching you, human prince."
Confidence.
Right.
Joshua forced himself to walk, the room holding its breath with every footfall. His expression held stoic, and his posture rang true for royalty.
Vaelthar watched him with unsettling calmness. "By ancient law, the Princess's acknowledgment invokes the Veil of Concord."
The name alone made his stomach tighten.
"It is the first rite," Vaelthar said. "Before the three trials and the vows. It is a meeting of truth."
Joshua swallowed. "Meaning… what, exactly?"
"The Princess will dine with you," Vaelthar said, as though this were entirely mundane. "Unshielded and unwatched. You will open your heart to her and she will decide."
Joshua's stomach dropped.
"Decide," he echoed, "if the marriage continues?"
"If you continue." Vaelthar did not bother to soften the words. "Only demons have made it here before, and many have lost their lives before the nights end."
Joshua felt the weight of the entire chamber shift toward him. Lysandra didn't move, but he could feel her attention now, cold and steady.
Vaelthar lowered his staff, its crystal glowing a pale white.
"There is more," he said his voice thin. "The Veil of Concord is but the first gate, Prince Joshua. Should the Princess choose to continue the union, you will face what many candidates before you have failed."
The court quieted.
"The Three Trials," Vaelthar said.
Joshua felt the words settle like stones in his stomach.
"The Trial of Flesh," the counselor continued. "A test of endurance. Of your body's right to stand beside ours."
Whispers rippled through the rows of demons, full of interest, disdain, and morbid anticipation.
The Trial of Flesh… I've already survived a kingdom that wanted me gone. What more can they do?
"The Trial of Memory," Vaelthar went on, "in which your past will judge you far more harshly than any living soul."
Joshua's breath tightened.
"And finally," Vaelthar said, staff tapping once against the marble, "the Trial of Soul. The last threshold. Few in our history have reached it. None of your kind ever have."
His eyes, pale and unblinking, fixed on Joshua.
"Should you pass all three, you will stand not as prisoner or pledge…"Vaelthar's tone softened. "But as the 78th prince of the Demon Realm."
The chamber hummed with energy.
"But before any of that," Vaelthar said, stepping back with slow precision, "comes tonight. The Princess will share a meal with you. You will speak truth. You will show her your nature. And she will decide whether you are worthy to face the trials… or whether this pact ends before dawn."
Of course. Leave it to demons to turn a meal into a death sentence.
Vaelthar bowed his head.
"Prepare yourself, Prince of Vale. The kingdom will watch your every move."
Vaelthar raised his hand pointing at Joshua. "Guards," the counselor said, "escort the human prince to the preparation hall. Ensure he is fed, washed, and… presentable. Sloppiness will not be tolerable before our princess."
A few demons snickered.
Veyla appeared at the edge of the crowd, her presence like a shield sliding silently into place. She met Joshua's eyes, and for the first time since he'd arrived, he saw a flicker of something almost like approval.
"Prince Joshua," she said, voice steady, "this way."
Joshua cast one last glance toward the center platform.
Lysandra hadn't looked away. There was no warmth in her stare, but something in it held a deep awareness, as if she had already begun judging the man he would become.
"Moonrise," Vaelthar's voice echoed like a promise.
Joshua forced a breath through tight lungs and turned to follow Veyla.
He'd been thrown away by a kingdom once. He wouldn't let this one break him too.