Split of the Worlds (18+)

Chapter 11.1

After she had bound herself to N'Arahn, a lot had changed. And nothing at all.

She was given a larger room, this time with direct access to a bathroom. This room not only contained a wide bed, but also a table and two chairs. Basically, Veidja thought to herself, her chamber and the room where the demonlord dined with her had been combined. The furniture looked absolutely the same, and the room itself showed no new colors or decorations. At least she was now spared the humiliating and painful walks to the bathroom.

As a further privilege, she had been given a shelf with a small selection of clothes. Everything she had worn so far, or at least clothes that looked just like them, was there. She was no longer forced to wear clothes chosen for her all the time.

Nevertheless, she was still a prisoner, of course. She still fought in the arena, took her mana with the demonlord and was guarded by demons everywhere outside her chamber. There weren't so many of them anymore, though.

And... Of course, what she had experienced had shaken the angel, even if in a different way than she had feared. Although the routine filled a considerable amount of her time again, there was enough left over to ponder. About her situation. About what she would do. What she might have to do.

There was one thought that kept coming back to her, but which she would have preferred to eradicate. It made her despair more than the fact that she had been lying with a demon. She had, if only for a moment, really fallen for it. Didn't just feel compulsion or anger. But devotion. Had let herself be beguiled by the longing in N'Arahn's eyes.

It had only been a moment of weakness. Right?

No, she wouldn't let him confuse her like that again.

She had waited a turn or two for N'Arahn to show up at her new abode to exercise his "right". That he expected her to share his bed without resistance.

She remembered how unnaturally cold she had felt when he had first come to her after their union.

She had just washed off the dirt from the last arena fight and changed into comfortable clothes, a pair of pants and a loose shirt made of a gray fabric. The sound at the door made her freeze, but she forced herself to be calm. Her "feeding" was due, so the demonlord had probably sent for her.

Instead, N'Arahn himself stood in the doorway. He waited a moment, then entered the room and closed the heavy door quietly behind him. Without further hesitation, he headed for one of the chairs and asked with a wave to it: "May I sit down?"

Veidja nodded, but remained standing, just leaning against the second chair. "I can't stop you anyway."

N'Arahn pulled his chair slightly away from the table to sit down. He looked relaxed to the angel. Well, he probably had every reason to be. She wouldn't be able to attack him without risking her soul. At least that was her assumption; after all, she was bound to him. What exactly this bond meant, she did not know, as she had since admitted to herself.

Would she ever fight him directly again?

The warmonger looked at her openly, the green of his eyes seemed muted to her.

"Sure. But I told you that you would be entitled to certain privileges. Me asking is one of them." A wry grin let her see a few of his teeth. "How would you like your mana?"

Veidja searched for malice in his gaze. Or simply triumph. He had gotten what he wanted and could now easily be generous in trivial matters. To her disappointment, she found nothing. The demon's gaze was blank, perhaps even a touch friendly. At least he wasn't looking at her as piercingly as...