Lily had started to adapt to life in the demon kingdom. It was nothing like her old life—nothing like the palace she once called home—but she was learning. Slowly. The fear that had gripped her initially still lingered, but now it was accompanied by something else: curiosity. She had begun to observe the world around her, piecing together how things worked in this strange, harsh kingdom.
At first, she had seen all demons as mindless monsters—savage, bloodthirsty creatures who lived only for violence. But as time went on, she began to realize her view had been simplistic. The demons had their own culture, their own way of life. Some of them even had their own struggles, much like the humans in her kingdom. That didn't mean she didn't still resent them for beating her every day under the guise of "sparring." Even though she was learning from those brutal lessons, she couldn't shake the bitterness she felt. But at least now, she understood that strength was their currency. In this kingdom, weakness was an invitation to death.
Then there was the Demon King. Azaroth.
He'd been acting strangely as of late. He had even asked for her name, which was shocking in itself. Now, instead of calling her "princess," "you," or simply "human," he addressed her as "Lily." She had even learned his name. Azaroth. It was a fitting name for a demon king—strong, ominous, and filled with dark power. But even though she knew his name, she wouldn't dare use it. She had never addressed him directly, anyway. The idea of initiating a conversation with the Demon King still filled her with dread.
To her surprise, Azaroth had also started giving her real advice during her training. No longer did he simply command her to "do it right" without any context. Now, his instructions were more practical, more detailed. "Move your arms lower, and put more strength into your strikes," he had said once, his voice as cold as ever but far more useful than before. Lily had to suppress the urge to applaud his improvement, though she'd never actually do something so foolish.
One day, after an especially brutal session in the forest, she returned to the castle more hurt than usual. She was on the brink of death, barely able to stay conscious. Through her blurred vision, she saw Azaroth watching her closely. For a brief moment, she thought she glimpsed something in his eyes—a flicker of concern, hidden deep beneath his usual cold indifference. He ordered the healers to tend to her, and though she couldn't hear his words clearly, his tone made the healers shiver with fear.
As he turned to leave, Lily thought she heard him mutter something soft, almost foreign to his character: "Get well soon."
She blinked in disbelief, wondering if she had imagined it. The Demon King—wishing her well? It seemed impossible. And yet, she couldn't shake the feeling that something had shifted between them.
As Lily recovered, she continued to learn more about the demon kingdom. She observed how it operated, why its people valued strength above all else, and how survival required a heart hardened by the harsh realities of life here. It wasn't just cruelty for cruelty's sake. It was a way of life—one that had been ingrained into their very existence.
She was still frightened, unsure of herself, and reluctant to embrace the lessons forced upon her. But she could no longer deny that she was changing. She wasn't the same weak princess who had fled her palace, terrified of the world outside. She had learned to wield a sword, to endure pain, to survive in ways she had never thought possible.
Even if she didn't fully realize it yet, Lily was no longer powerless. There was strength growing inside her, a resilience she had never known before.
Azaroth had noticed it too.
At first, Lily had been nothing more than a fragile pawn to him—weak, breakable, and useful only for whatever leverage she could provide. But as he watched her, he began to see something else. Beneath her fear, beneath her trembling exterior, there was a quiet strength. She had survived everything he had thrown at her. She had endured every brutal lesson, every fight, every near-death experience.
And she was still standing.
That intrigued him. Lily wasn't as weak as she appeared. There was something in her—a will to survive, a determination that even she didn't seem to recognize. Azaroth found himself watching her more closely, drawn to that unexpected resilience.
He didn't show her much compassion, at least not openly. But there were moments—small, fleeting moments—when his actions betrayed a subtle care. He would give her advice that actually helped her improve, offer a gesture of protection when things went too far, or ensure the healers tended to her wounds when she was pushed to her limits. It wasn't out of kindness, or at least that's what he told himself. But still, it built a fragile bond between them.