Sympathy for the Demons (Promised to the Demons #1) - Lidiya Foxglove Page 0,70

fireplaces at the ends.

You could host a big party here, but I had a feeling Variel never did. Each colonnade was two steps up from the reception hall. As I walked up, I saw an extensive miniature model of the garden maze Variel was building, with tweezers and scissors and paintbrushes, scraps of dried moss and twigs, and tons of other materials.

"So this is what you were talking about. It is like a dollhouse!" The maze was peppered with tiny traps. I saw a thin string connected to an axe hidden in the shrubbery, and a tiny paper-mache beehive.

"You were pretty happy here, weren't you, Variel? As demons go, I don't think killing people is your favorite activity."

My ankle was starting to throb where the fish bit it. I kept exploring until I found the kitchens, and an infirmary next door. I didn't recognize most of the names of the herbs, so I wasn't sure what to put on the wound, but I bandaged it up.

I didn’t see a scrap to eat, just some ingredients. I guessed the servants had made off with all the cheese and so on. Well, no problem. I whipped up a simple loaf of yeast bread and left it to rise under a clean towel.

"I wonder why I'm here, though," I mused to the empty rooms. "I want to get away from Variel...not tour his home."

Was Variel's fortune true? Was I somehow meant to be with him? It was Bevan I wanted. I wouldn't soon forget the drawing of me...and Bevan…the realization that he just made us perform for his entertainment, like pornography. Just when I thought I could forget, the humiliation came rushing back and knew I could never look at him again. It was in my nature to forgive, and I didn’t even want to give myself the chance to forgive him…simply because I was a sweet, naive girl that anyone could take advantage of.

Even though I know power and domination are inescapable...those are the things that pulled Bernard away and changed him forever. I'll never love anyone like that again.

A wave of dizziness passed over me. Hopefully the ankle wasn't getting infected. Maybe I was just exhausted. I was tempted to collapse on the nearest sofa, but it looked stiff and I didn't see any blankets. I forced myself up the steep stone steps, growing more and more woozy and shivery.

Upstairs, I reeled down the hall until I found a very grand canopy bed, and I heaved myself onto the mattress, which nearly came up to my chest.

Oh gods. I think my ankle is infected. Or maybe those fish are poisonous. And here I am all alone.

The bedroom felt like it had been abandoned for years. Cobwebs were hanging inside the canopy over my head. I knew Variel hadn't been gone that long. How quickly a home just turns back into a house when no one lives in it.

But when I flopped onto the pillow, it smelled like Variel. I hadn't realized I knew how he smelled.

I clutched the soft bedspread and I couldn't help thinking that I could make this castle into a welcoming home, but only if it was filled with people like Gillian and Jameson. Not Uram, though. I wouldn't forgive him for that picture either.

I crawled under the covers as the room seemed to get colder, and my skin, hotter. I remembered Variel’s horses, and I thought that I should check on them to make sure the servants didn’t leave them penned up without food, but I knew if I climbed out of bed I'd never be able to get back in. Anyway, if they stole the cheese, they surely stole the horses.

I should have brought a glass of water to bed with me.

I noticed a half-empty glass of water on the nightstand. It had a layer of dust on the top and had clearly been evaporating. Ick. That was almost worse than no water at all. There was also a gold case with cameo portraits of Variel's parents—I guessed—and a very old book with some papers wedged inside.

Now I was just getting nosy. I opened the book and it looked like Sinistral legends about all the many High Demons. The papers were tucked in the entry about 'the Devourer'.

It was a letter from Variel's father.

To My Son,

The mortal life I have chosen since I married your mother now draws to a close. As you read this, you will have taken on the mantle of our family and