That night at dinner, Evelyn descended the stairs, the dark circles under her eyes stark against her pale skin. She tried to sit quietly, hoping to be unnoticed, but her parents were seated directly in front of her, their eyes fixed on her with a mixture of worry and pity. She hated being pitied.
"Dear, Zafil will be coming tomorrow, so please… don't do anything foolish," Queen Victoria said gently.
"Yes, Father," Evelyn replied quietly. She stood to leave, still wondering what her mother meant. Was "Zafil" a name, a title, or something else?
"Don't you want to eat dinner?" King Dave asked.
"I'm in no mood," she said, offering a small, fleeting smile before slipping out of the dining hall. She made her way to her room and slumped onto her bed.
"Why… why do I feel a little happier to see him again?" she whispered to no one in particular.
"Maybe it's because you like him," her mother said suddenly, startling her.
"How did you get in here?" Evelyn asked, wide-eyed.
"Don't forget, dear," Queen Victoria warned softly, "he is a demon—the highest of them all. He might do things you never expect. You may think he likes you… but he doesn't. He wanted to kill your father in cold blood."
"I understand, Mother," Evelyn replied, her voice calm, but her mind was racing.
"Now that's settled… come, let's have dinner."
"Just send mine to my room," she said, dismissing the suggestion.
The next day arrived in a blur. Staff scurried about, decorating the palace for Zafil's arrival. Jade and Jane fussed over Evelyn, helping her into a gown befitting her royal status.
"I wonder what Zafil looks like after twenty years," Jade said quietly.
"Demons don't age like humans," Jane added. "He probably looks the same as the last time I saw him…"
"Zafil, Zafil, Zafil! Why do you always call him that? If you don't follow formalities behind his back, just call him Michael," Evelyn said sharply, exasperated.
The room fell silent. Even the staff gasped, as if the world had ended.
"Your Highness… where did you hear that name?" one staff member whispered.
"Shhh… forget it ever happened," another said nervously.
"After all, she is his betrothed…" Jade began, but Evelyn cut her off.
"Just stop it," she snapped.
She turned to the mirror, taking in her reflection. She looked stunning, but beauty didn't matter. Not now. She sighed deeply, her chest tight, and descended the stairs.
Evelyn stood by her mother's side, her heart pounding as they prepared to greet Micheal. She and her parents wore matching royal robes of red and black silk, trimmed with feathers along the edges. The palace gates opened, and the blue-and-white flags of the kingdom flapped in the wind.
Horses appeared first, not carriages. Their riders exuded an aura that made her stomach tighten. They looked human, yet entirely otherworldly—calm, precise, and commanding a presence that seemed to bend the very air around them.
And then… she saw him, micheal he rode a white horse, the picture of perfection, every movement controlled, every glance commanding. He seemed to own the world itself. Two men followed behind him—advisers, guards, or something more. Evelyn's throat went dry, her pulse racing as she tried to steady her breathing.
The horsemen formed a grand pathway, leading him directly to the palace. Evelyn's heart thudded painfully in her chest. He wasn't a demon in the terrifying, monstrous sense she had imagined. He was… terrifying in an entirely different way—human, yet untouchably powerful, radiating an aura of dominance that made her both fear and desire him all at once.