Veyla's boots clicked sharply on cold stone, dragging Joshua away from the suffocating spectacle of the Royal Court. The obsidian doors hissed shut behind them, cutting off the toxic buzz of demon nobles.
Joshua sucked air into his lungs and felt some tension bleed from his shoulders.
"Preparation hall," Veyla said, voice flat as steel. They moved through a corridor that never seemed to find proper light. "We will provide you a fresh outfit, a place to bathe, and a light amount of food."
"Thank whatever god hasn't abandoned me yet," Joshua muttered, his stomach twisting into knots. "Your princess left me to rot last night. Found crackers and stale water."
He frowned. "Wait—isn't the Veil supposed to be some grand feast? Why do I need food before dining with her?"
Veyla's yellow eyes flicked over him like he was missing something obvious. "The Veil of Concord isn't simply dinner, Prince. You need to be at your best shape before meeting the princess. Many demon candidates have died before the veil was over, killed by their potential spouse. This kingdom sees you as disposable. Does that not concern you?"
"Death's been chasing me since birth," Joshua shot back. "My specialty is being too stubborn to die."
The faintest smile cracked Veyla's mask. "Stubbornness rates well. Ambition gets you killed. Tonight, Princess Lysandra will dissect who you really are."
They stopped at an unguarded door. Veyla's hand glowed red against the frame, and it hissed open—white stone bath, steam rising and resting on the walls.
"Thirty minutes," she ordered. "Don't waste time and ensure you prepare yourself."
"Hold on." Joshua stepped in her path. "Why are you helping me so much? You're a demon—I'm human. I don't understand you."
For the first time, Veyla's stoic mask faltered, her yellow eyes uncertain, as if she didn't know the answer herself. The door sealed with a thud.
Thirty minutes later, he emerged wearing palace-issued black cloth, and the fabric was surprisingly high quality. It fit around his physique snugly and held no dust or markings.
The bath had dulled his aches, but the phantom pain from Damage Conversion still clung to him like old wounds.
Veyla waited outside, already focused ahead.
They left the sterile halls behind. The Royal Court's obsidian doors groaned shut, releasing them into the courtyard.
Night pressed down—deep indigo sky scattered with ice-chip stars. The moon sat low and sickly, lighting their path toward the Hollowed Tree.
Cool air hit his face. Better than the palace's choking heat.
At least if I die tonight, it'll be under open sky.
"Here." Veyla gestured to a dirt road that sloped upward, away from the palace's glow.
The lush field around the walkway caught the moonlight. In any other situation, Joshua might have appreciated the spectacle. The demon realm was unexpectedly beautiful.
"Prince. We will be greeted by beings that serve forces higher than the Demon King himself. You would do well to say little."
"Higher than the Demon King…?"
"Even I as the princess' guard am not privy to that information."
The path crested, and the Hollowed Tree's grounds spread before them.
Anticipation pressed down like a weight. Leaves rustled, carrying whispers of things better left forgotten.
Joshua's pulse hammered. This wasn't just a meal—it felt like judgment day.
"You know why it's called the Veil of Concord?" Veyla asked.
"Enlighten me."
"Truth gets revealed. Tonight decides if you're worthy."
Joshua studied her—formidable, controlled, but something churned beneath the surface.
"I thought this was dinner," he said. "You're making it sound like an execution."
"Royal dinners hide behind manners. This strips you bare." Her gaze sharpened. "Sometimes showing weakness is the strongest thing you can do."
"Thanks for the honesty. It's refreshing after all the court bullshit."
Surprise flickered across her face—like no one had thanked her for anything in years.
"I protect by providing truth," she said quickly. "My job is making sure things proceed as they are meant to."
Joshua felt something click into place. Veyla wasn't just a guard—she was someone who understood duty and sacrifice.
They approached the edge of the Hollowed Tree's grounds. The air grew thicker here, charged with ancient power that made his skin prickle.
Two figures emerged from the shadows—silent sentinels wrapped in armor so dark it seemed to swallow light itself. Their forms were completely obscured, faces hidden behind masks carved with symbols that hurt to look at directly.
What the hell are those things?
Veyla dropped to one knee instantly, her head bowed low.
"Arch Knights," she said, voice barely above a whisper. "I bring the Prince as commanded."
One of the armored figures tilted its head, and when it spoke, the voice seemed to come from everywhere and nowhere at once. Ancient. Otherworldly. A sound that bypassed the ears and spoke directly to the soul.
"Raise your head, Shield of Lysandra. We are... grateful for your assistance in preparing the Veil. We will handle the proceedings from here."
Even Veyla kneels to them. What kind of power do these things have?
Veyla rose slowly but kept her gaze lowered. "Of course, honored ones."
The second Arch Knight turned toward Joshua, and he felt a pressure settle over him like the weight of centuries. When it spoke, the words drifted through the air like smoke.
"Prince of the human realm... the Tree awaits. Walk the path of truth. Let the sacred grounds receive you."
The way forward opened, lit by a soft pink glow that seemed to dim and glow with his every breath. The Arch Knights stepped aside, becoming shadows once more.
Joshua walked past the silent sentinels into the sacred grounds. The clearing opened around him—beautiful and haunting under silver light. The massive trunk rose like a monument, its roots webbing the ground like old scars. Pink mana pulsed faintly in carved hollows.
This place feels like it's been waiting for me.
Movement caught his eye—a flash of crimson through the branches. Gone before he could focus.
A rustle—deliberate, intentional.
Joshua's head snapped toward the sound, but the shadows between the ancient trees revealed nothing. Just darkness and the faint pulse of mana from the Hollowed Tree's carvings.
She's here. Watching.
"Princess, are you there?"
Silence.
Then—footsteps. Soft, measured. The sound of someone who moved like death itself. Lysandra emerged from between the trees, and Joshua's breath caught.
Gone was the battle-ready demon princess from yesterday. This version wore a flowing dress of deep crimson that seemed to absorb the moonlight. Her hair fell loose around her shoulders, softer somehow. Almost... human.
Almost.
Her red eyes still burned with that predatory intelligence. Her horns still curved back like a crown of bone. And when she smiled—
That smile could gut a man.
"You called for me," she said, voice silk over steel. "How... presumptuous."
"Seemed more efficient than waiting all night." Joshua kept his posture relaxed, hands at his sides. "I assume this is where you decide whether to kill me or marry me."
Her laugh was low, dangerous. "Such crude simplification. Though not entirely wrong."
She moved closer, each step deliberate. "Tell me, Joshua Vale—do you fear me?"
Yes. Absolutely. Completely.
"Should I?"
"Most would say yes." She circled him slowly, like a predator sizing up prey. "You survived ten strikes from my blade. That makes you either incredibly lucky... or something else entirely."
"What kind of something else?"
She stopped in front of him, close enough that he could smell the faint scent of blood and roses that seemed to cling to her skin.
"That," she murmured, "is what I intend to discover."
The mana lamps dimmed further, casting the field of purple grass in deeper shadow. Somewhere in the darkness, Joshua heard the soft clink of glass and metal—a table being set.
Here we go.
"Shall we dine?" Lysandra asked, though it didn't sound like a question.
Joshua nodded, jaw tight. "Lead the way, Princess."
Her smile widened.
"Oh, I intend to."