There was a room deep below the stone castle that the demon lurking inside him liked to visit.
The demon prince even let him out sometimes, through the eyes that might have once been his.
It was a room cloaked in endless night. Or maybe the darkness was from the demon.
But they could see; they had always been able to see in the blackness. Where the demon prince had come from, so little light existed that it had learned to hunt in the shadows.
There were pedestals arranged in the round room in an elegant curve, each topped with a black pillow. And on each pillow sat a crown.
Kept down here like trophies—kept in darkness. Like him. A secret room.
The prince stood in the center of it, surveying the crowns.
The demon had taken control of the body completely. He’d let him, after that woman with the familiar eyes had failed to kill him.
He waited for the demon to leave the room, but the demon prince spoke instead. A hissing, cold voice that came from between the stars, speaking to him—only to him.
The crowns of the conquered nations, the demon prince said. More will be added soon. Perhaps the crowns of other worlds, too.
He did not care.
You should care—you will enjoy it as we rip the realms to shreds.
He backed away, tried to retreat into a pocket of darkness where even the demon prince couldn’t find him.
The demon laughed. Spineless human. No wonder she lost her head. He tried to shut out the voice.
Tried to.
He wished that woman had killed him.
