All the Queen's Angels

Ch. 28: Heat

The Infernal Courts are deathly cold.

As I stand sopping wet in an opulent black marble lobby, I fear I will turn to ice. Malcolm, on the other hand, seems fired up. Grinning wildly at the hollow chamber, he takes a deep breath.

"Daddy's home, heathens!" he sings. At first, all I can hear is my hair dripping water. And then the chaos begins as the lobby fills with everyone from servants to generals and nobility. Each person is dressed more fantastically than the next, drowning in extravagant luxury. They scream and holler with glee, shattering the glass chandeliers above.

"The Infernal Lord has returned!," they rejoice.

As glass rains down on us and the crowd floods into the grand hall, someone stops and turns to me.

"Who is that?".

A hush falls over the chamber as Malcolm remembers I'm still there.

"That..." he begins, and awkwardly pries himself from the crowd to wrap an arm around my shoulder, "is my fiancée...and future Queen."

"She's awfully plain looking."

"Peculiar eyes though."

"Poor thing is shivering like a chihuahua!".

"This is Evangeline Vlahos of Gardenia," Malcolm announces. The whispers stop as the people stare in shock.

"A cursed Queen?," someone asks, breaking the silence. And then they erupt in maniacal glee. People swarm towards me and I struggle to keep track of Malcolm while they sweep me away into the palace.

When we meet eyes, he simply grins and waves cheekily, turning toward his warlords awaiting him in the shadows.

I'm royally screwed.
...

I retreat from the chaos into to the Queen's quarters, a series of drawing rooms and closets with a massive bedchamber overlooking the bleak ocean.

Everything is elegant black marble and silk, from the walls and ceiling to the drapes and sheets. But everything is empty. There's no clothing, no soap, no towels. I groan. I just want a warm bath to rid myself of the slimy sea monster saliva on my clothes. I'm still wearing the tattered scarlet pantsuit from the wedding. It still has Leanders blood on it.

I creep over to a second door in my room leading to a short passageway that opens to another bedchamber. The air is thick with dust, the sunbeams filtering through the skylight illuminating the ivory walls. It must have been decades since anyone has stepped in this room. It's bare except for the massive bed in the center. An identical door is opposite my own, the only other entrance to the room.

I take a chance, stepping into the passageway and cracking open the door.

This room is nearly identical to my own, except more lavish and adorned. There's also copious amounts of dust, but from here I spot towels and bath soap and a large robe.

This will do.

I'm having the best shower of my life when the door bursts open. I scream and throw a shampoo bottle as Malcolm curses loudly.

"FUCK—," he yells as he slams back into the now-closed door. He averts his gaze. "Kindly tell me why the hell you're in my shower, darling?".

I quickly wrap myself in a robe—his robe, oh hell—and step out of the shower soaking wet.

"My room is completely empty and the monster saliva was getting gross," I say sheepishly. "I didn't realize this was your room since it looked so...old."

"I was imprisoned for over a century so pardon me if there's a little dust," he scoffs.

"I'll leave."