I stormed out of the dining hall, still fuming.
"Sold off like a fucking goat," I muttered under my breath. "Fucking unbelievable."
My steps echoed down the luxurious hallways as I marched back to my prison room. I was still gripping the broken neck of the wine bottle like a weapon, fully prepared to stab the next idiot who pissed me off.
By the time I kicked open my bedroom door, a group of nervous-looking maids was already waiting for me.
"Your Highness—"
"Don't fucking call me that." I tossed the broken bottle onto the floor, making them flinch. "What do you want?"
One of them—a tiny thing with wide, terrified eyes—stepped forward, holding out a new dress.
A very expensive-looking, silky black gown with a high slit and a dangerously short hemline.
And over it? A look-alike royal cape, exactly like Xareth's.
I squinted at it. "Absolutely fucking not."
The maids whimpered.
One of them actually dropped to her knees, clutching the hem of my old gown. "Please, my lady! His Majesty ordered this outfit specifically for you!"
I folded my arms. "And?"
Another maid wrung her hands. "A-and he said if you refuse to wear it, he'll—he'll kill us."
I blinked. "...What?"
The maids nodded furiously, their faces pale.
One of them actually started tearing up.
Oh, for fuck's sake.
"Is this bastard serious?!" I threw my hands up. "He's threatening to murder his own damn servants over a fucking outfit?!"
They nodded again, trembling.
I dragged a hand down my face, inhaling deeply. "I fucking hate him."
One of the maids sniffled. "So… you'll wear it?"
I gritted my teeth. I hated everything about this situation. But if I refused, these poor girls were going to end up dead.
"Fine," I growled, snatching the dress. "But if anyone fucking laughs at me, I'm burning this entire castle down."
The maids beamed like I had given them a new lease on life.
I sighed. This was my reality now.
The moment I put on the dress, I knew I was being set up.
The black silk clung to my body like a second skin, the high slit exposing way too much of my leg. The short hemline barely covered my ass, and to make matters worse, the cape was dramatic as fuck—long, heavy, and exactly like Xareth's.
I stared at my reflection in the giant mirror.
I looked… powerful. Dangerous. Like I actually belonged in this damn castle.
Which was bullshit because I was supposed to be here as a murderer, not a fucking princess.
The maids stood behind me, beaming like they had just won a war.
"Oh, my lady," one whispered. "You look… divine."
I scowled. "I look like his fucking twin."
The maids giggled, clearly unbothered by my suffering.
I turned to them. "Tell me the truth—did that bastard tell you to make me look like this?"
They all exchanged nervous glances before nodding.
Motherfucker.
I groaned, rubbing my temples. "I fucking hate him."
One maid cleared her throat. "Well, His Majesty said you needed proper attire fit for your status."
"My status as his prisoner?"
Another maid gasped. "As his wife!"
I choked.
"Excuse the fuck out of me?"
The maids froze, realizing their mistake. One even looked ready to jump out the window.
"W-what we meant was…"
I narrowed my eyes. "Oh no, no, no, don't start stuttering now. What did he say?"
They remained silent, which told me everything I needed to know.
That smug piece of shit was already treating me like his queen.
I grabbed the nearest hairbrush and threw it across the room. It hit the wall with a loud BANG.
"I will kill him."
The maids squeaked.
I turned on my heel and stormed out.
my new cape flaring behind me like I actually owned the damn place.
Which I did not.
I was supposed to be killing the Demon King, not matching outfits with him like some royal couple in love.
As I marched down the hallway, every single demon servant and guard I passed immediately looked away like they were scared to even breathe near me.
Oh, so now they respected me?
"Where the fuck is he?" I growled, grabbing a random demon servant by the collar.
The poor bastard squeaked, his eyes wide with fear. "H-His Majesty is in the war room, my lady!"
I blinked. The war room?
How did they move from the dinning to the war room so FUCKING fast
And he is planning wars while I was being dressed like his goddamn bride?
Perfect.
I shoved the servant away and kept walking, my steps loud as hell.
By the time I slammed open the war room doors, every demon noble inside flinched.
They turned to look at me, and I could literally feel the judgment in their glowing demon eyes.
Xareth was standing at the head of the room, leaning over a massive war table covered in maps and battle plans.
He turned his head slightly and—I swear on my life—smirked.
"Ah," he said smoothly. "I see you got dressed."
I pointed at him. "Shut the fuck up."
Silence.
The nobles exchanged glances, some looking absolutely entertained by my outburst.
I stepped forward, my boots thudding against the polished floor. "Let's get one thing straight, you oversized demon bastard—I don't belong here. I don't belong to you. And I sure as hell am not your fucking queen."
Xareth just watched me, his golden eyes practically glowing with amusement.
"Oh?" he said, tilting his head. "Then why are you wearing my colors, standing in my castle, and walking around like you own the place?"
I gasped in pure rage.
"Because you're a manipulative little shit! That's why!"
One of the nobles choked on his drink.
Xareth, on the other hand, laughed.
Not a soft chuckle.
Not an arrogant smirk.
A full-on deep, amused, you're-fucked-now kind of laugh.