The lady-in-waiting says goodbye at the library door, which is slightly ajar. I push it open and see Vincent sitting in an upholstered chair, looking up from the book he’s reading.

  “Hello again, Bianca. How was the tea?”

  “Very nice, thanks. Your mother is very kind. She’s even going to remove my bodyguard.”

  The one who just stayed in the hallway beside the door.

  The library, by the way, is surprisingly spacious. It doesn’t face outside, but it’s very well lit by candlelight: chandeliers hanging from the ceiling and tall standing candelabras arranged along the walls. There are tons of dark wood bookshelves with decorative carvings. The three tables and chairs are all made of the same solid wood, delicately crafted, and have oil lamps for better reading. There’s an oil painting on the only wall without shelves, the one by the entrance. It shows a couple wearing crowns and ceremonial robes, along with several young children of different ages. Without a doubt, it’s a portrait of Vincent and his family from several years ago. My fiancé is immortalized at about four or five years old, his hair an even lighter shade of blond than now, showing a warm smile.

  “I’m glad.”

  He’s glad? Great! I wouldn’t want him to say something like removing my escort could be dangerous. After all, he already knows about my magic and that I like to take care of myself.

  Well, now that I think about it, not all my magic. He doesn’t know about the darkness one. Neither does Ronan.

  Telling them feels complicated, even to my best friend in this world: Mary. The thing is, I planned something to get rid of Sol and even used light magic to pull it off. Because of that, I now have dark magic. I don’t know how they’d take it.

  “What are you reading?” I shut down my doubts entirely as I address Vincent and point to his book.

  “It’s a political treatise on diplomatic relations between kingdoms.”

  “But isn’t that what your brother will have to do?”

  “Well, I prefer to educate myself too, to be available if he ever needs help. Besides, it’s not uncommon for other members of the royal family to attend foreign events as ambassadors.”

  “I see.”

  “Come on, let me show you the palace.”

  We tour the whole thing, both the royal family’s private area and the rest. The palace is gigantic. A rectangular building with three floors occupying a huge amount of land, with tons of interior courtyards and two gardens: the private one and the one open to everyone. Everything has decorations befitting what it is, a way to display the kingdom’s power and its rulers. It’s definitely way more luxurious than the L’Crom estate, and I imagine the other nobles’ estates too. Must be some kind of social etiquette.

  When we’re done, he walks me to my room, where he says goodbye with a kiss at the door. When I go inside, I find Berta waiting for me.

  “Good morning, miss,” she says.

  “What are you doing here?”

  I’m surprised. How does she know I’m here, and how did she get in?

  “They notified me that you’d be at the palace for a few days. I came with the prince’s valet. I’ve packed some additional garments for you, suitable for the palace.”

  Uh, if she looked at what was missing from the wardrobe, considering I barely took anything... well... thank goodness I have Berta. Because Vincent told me we’re having dinner with his whole family tonight, and nothing I brought has the required level of formality.

  “Thank you so much.”

  “It’s my job, miss.”

  I have lunch alone with my fiancé, though “alone” is a figure of speech considering the palace staff. For starters, the prince’s valet is standing behind him and my personal maid, Berta, behind me. Plus, there are several additional servants near the walls of the dining room, ready to serve or clear plates when needed.

  They’re all silent and discreet, not intervening unless we call on them.

  I don’t know if someone from nobility on Earth would find this normal or fine. For me, personally, it’s one of the things I like least about this world: the strict class separation.

  There’s a middle class, of course, like merchants or artisans. But this lord-servant dichotomy doesn’t sit well with me. On Earth, a waiter serves you and leaves, and they’re a normal, everyday person like you, not someone whose life seems dedicated to serving a minority.

  This, which wasn’t so noticeable at the academy, seems very present here at the palace.

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  And don’t even get me started on dinner. With the entire royal family present except Lily and Faith, the number of servants multiplies, protocol intensifies, and what becomes a tense dinner for me (due to Sigfrig’s presence, who occasionally glances at me sideways with a sour expression) drags on forever.

  I’m happy when I can finally retreat to my room. Supposedly to sleep.

  Supposedly, because Ronan’s golem is going to come get me.

  Oh, as for how I spent the afternoon, I took a walk with Vincent around the capital to see it. Nothing simple like I would’ve liked, just the two of us together; rather, escorted by the royal guard, with his valet and my maid following us, plus a carriage in case we needed to withdraw quickly, and everyone staring and bowing. It killed any desire I had to even go shopping. And this despite being allowed to walk arm-in-arm with Vincent. Though with straight posture, a soft smile, and none of my natural gesturing.

  In Convergence I can be myself. If I’m solo farming or with Ronan or Vincent, too. At the academy, people usually overlook it if I say or do something inappropriate for a count’s daughter. But here... here I’m the fucking fiancée of one of the princes, and everyone seems to be expecting me to be perfect.

  Good thing Vincent isn’t the heir. What kind of pressure Faith must be dealing with.

  That said, the good thing about tonight is they’ve finally removed my bodyguard. There’s no one watching my room door anymore.

  I’m alone now, I tell Ronan mentally.

  Because I dismissed Berta after she helped me loosen the corset on the back of my dress. She’s used to me undressing and getting ready for bed by myself.

  My lady, good evening. The golem and the bird are hidden outside the capital, awaiting my signal.

  Right, since Ronan is in the area, he can now communicate with them through his bond.

  Perfect.

  I pull back the curtains, opening them, and step out onto the balcony. It overlooks the private garden where I met with the queen and her ladies this morning. I approach the white stone railing and lean against it as I gaze thoughtfully at the sky.

  The moon is waning. Actually, even though I’m not on Earth, it doesn’t feel like an alien world; the satellite orbiting it behaves just like the moon and looks similar up there. I also see some stars. These are grouped into constellations that are different, though.

  I spot a few guards posted below, thanks to the torches that cast some light over the garden and the building beyond. On either side of me, there are more balconies, all empty for now. I look up again. No clouds. But I doubt it’s that easy to notice a golem covered in black cloth just by tilting your head toward the sky. Besides, like Ronan said, people rarely do. In fact, the guards are looking straight ahead.

  I go back inside and close the curtains. Time to change. I brought the pants and shirts I use for dungeon runs specifically for this. After pulling on a pair with some boots, I grab my sword and turn off the lamps so it looks like I’m already sleeping. The last thing I need is light filtering through the curtains or under the door.

  Then I approach the balcony, slip between the curtains without opening them, and crack the door.

  Go ahead, have them come, I ask Ronan.

  This time I don’t go to the railing. I stay pressed against the wall instead. I wait a few minutes, looking up at the sky, while thinking of possible excuses in case I get caught.

  Even knowing what I’m looking for, I have trouble seeing them since they’re flying very high. When the golem begins to hover downward toward me, then it becomes a little easier to see. It’s just a piece of black cloth against a black sky, drifting down slowly. I glance at the guards; they don’t seem to notice. The neighboring balconies are still empty.

  Maybe I should’ve tried to get on the roof.

  The golem finally arrives. It doesn’t land on the balcony. Doesn’t make a sound. It hovers a few inches above. I grab the cloak covering it and put it on. It’s black. The mask too, simple and the same color. I’ve got my hair tied in a braid I did myself, so it won’t get in the way and no strands can escape the hood. With the shoulder pads, which are ridiculously large, the cloak makes me look bulkier. When I sit on the golem and it falls down around me, I better understand Ronan’s idea. The golem starts to levitate slightly upward. The heavy fabric lifts off the ground. It must be over two meters long. No doubt, I look like a tall, imposing demon king.

  Ready, my lady? I hear Ronan’s voice in my head.

  Yes.

  The golem starts levitating faster, quickly gaining altitude. When the palace looks tiny and I can barely make out the guards, I let out the breath I’d been holding.

  So far, the danger’s passed.

  The small zombie birds start flapping, and we move toward the city’s public gardens.

  Once we’re flying over them, the birds and the golem stop.

  You need to wait a bit now, my lady, Ronan tells me. We have arrived, but I prefer to make them wait. You are too important for it to be otherwise.

  I understand.

  The truth is, at this height I can see the park very well. The trees and the water areas. Like when a plane took off on Earth and you looked down through the window. I also think what’s directly below us might be people gathered, though I can’t make it out very well.

  After a few minutes, the birds approach so I can untie the thin cords attached to their legs. I readjust the cloak so my arms won’t show, and we descend. Fast at first, but as we get closer, the golem slows down.

  I can see it’s a landscaped area with benches. Standing there are about twenty hooded figures, one of whom has a different hood with red-trimmed edges.

  As I get closer, Ronan lowers his, revealing his head and face. The golem sets me down on an elevation. It looks like a wooden platform they’ve placed there for musicians or events. It’s perfect for me. I’m not touching the ground, but the cloak is. It grazes it.

  The hooded figures haven’t knelt or anything. They just stare at me. I focus on appearing imposing, powerful, and threatening. Without moving, of course, or speaking. Just my presence.

  “Welcome, Demon King,” Ronan says, bowing and putting one knee on the ground.

  The others don’t move or, at most, some turn their heads toward the one with the red-trimmed hood. Probably Count Bloodwynne.

  My lady, make them kneel.

  With pleasure.

  My earth control is faster than usual. And brutal. Is this from practicing so much earth magic at the goblin village?

  I sink them into the ground, all of them, up to their necks. They don’t even have time to scream.

  With pleasure? Ronan replies, puzzled. He sounds delighted too.

  Oh, right. I enjoyed it. I just used my power to bury these cultists who won’t kneel before their demon lord, and it felt good.

  Before I can start lecturing myself about a possible abuse of power (not that much, though—I’m not squeezing them), I start hearing some beg for forgiveness and others call out to the first priest for help.

  “Are you fools? You stand before your demon lord and do not kneel?” Ronan’s voice comes out cold and annoyed.