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16. A Lying Fox

    The threads moved horrendously fast, cut into countless smaller portions before weaving into themselves, soon entwining into one, fine material that left his mind and body stupendous.


    Turning into a large square of fine linen fabric in mere seconds, the magical show continued, rendering him useless to answer even such a simple question of her.


    In no more moves and time than before, he saw the material getting turned into a bag, the clothes put carefully inside while he stood there, completely still and silent.


    “So, do you?” She added while transporting the bag through the air towards him, who absentmindedly caught the handles. Though, the action had fully brought him out to the real world back again.


    “I do not,” he said, no longer obtuse in the face of her tricks. “A slave has no reason to know their master’s every action.” His teeth gritted themselves lightly as the jaw became pronounced.


    However, she turned around at his words, amused somewhat. Raising her eyebrow at the supposed attempt of her beguilement, she looked straight into his purple eyes.


    “You will have to train a bit if you want to convince people of your fealty. You look as though you’re constipated,” she spoke, bringing one of her hands closer to her mouth, threatening to break out into laughter.


    He, on the other hand, grew taken aback at the words, his eyebrows twitching a nudge.


    ‘I know that.’ He didn’t dare say it out loud lest she curl him in a cocoon of fabric.


    “Whatever you say, I heard something different from your lady,” she said while her lips curled up. “You have a nice body, so I reckon this one will suit you.”


    As her voice rang out inside his ears, he saw a certain mannequin at the back rattle uncontrollably before something flew up, unable to hit the high ceiling above it.


    “You can pay me back later, however you want,” she winked with an exaggerated, practically moaning tone that if not for the folded suit flying towards him, would have made Lutiel stagger about.


    “I can’t,” he said, shaking his head. “I won’t be able to pay this back in my lifetime.”


    Rolling her eyes, she stared at him, dumbfounded while the elegant suit and shoes had yet to arrive inside the bag.


    “You really need to work on yourself, huh?” Muttering, she promptly put the attire into the bag he held before his body turned around on its own, starting to walk away from the room. “I will see you at the ball. Though, I’m sure you won’t change so quickly.”


    Whispering the last sentence while seeing him leave through the curtains, Lutiel stood frozen in space, having left luviene’s bedroom that acted as a workshop.


    Her words lingering in his head, he waited there, glancing down at the empty shop, a line of demons waiting near the glass outside.


    His mind had been a puddle ever since he saw the real look of her person, but at the same time, he could have no confirmation whether that was even the case. Alas, magic made fickles on his mind.


    ‘Let’s just go back.’ He thought, staring at the bag in his right hand before going down the stairs. Despite the countless stares directed at his being, with concise steps, he quickly grabbed onto the door’s handle, letting the demons walk through while he left for the carriage.


    Coming close to the doors, as his hand rested on the handle and the horses breathed out deeper than before, he took one last glance at the shop, infiltrated with demons moments after he was gone.


    Not waiting any moment longer, he opened the doors before stepping inside, gently placing the clothing on the soft cushions.


    …


    Their hairs danced, pulled on by the irrational wafts brushing them, with a chaotic rhythm they waved across the space around. Standing on ever encompassing green blades, tainted by the fallen leaves, Lutiel watched as the wind caressed the ground’s hairs.


    Stood on a flattened top of a hill between the expansive lands, he stared at the golden tree bleeding at its crown. Next to him, a certain lady wore a long, hooded cloak that mingled with the hair.


    Before he could say or do anything, his head turned to the side, the girl with blue skin walking forward and stopping a few steps in front of him. Meeting at the half-way point between him and the tree itself, the demonic girl’s cape fluttered, but that didn’t stop her.


    Calmly, she waited still whilst closing her eyes. Meanwhile, Lutiel strode quietly, his footsteps subdued under the waving of the wind. With a few careful steps to the side, he took in all she had to offer, an extreme concentration on the one before her.


    The winds quivered through her countless times, similar to the tree, but her focus lingered somewhere else. A leaf fell gracefully, spinning in circles as it flowed to the ground, but just when it conquered most of its way there, a hole appeared along most of its surface, obliterating the golden red leaf. Unable to descend as daintily anymore, it simply sunk down through the air, promptly hugging the soil.


    As the leaf had become shattered, Lutiel’s eyes focused on the thing in front instead, immediately. Though, since all of it happened in the blink of an eye, the deal was already done, and a part of the tree’s bark splintered away, a round impression burrowing into it.Reading on Amazon or a pirate site? This novel is from Royal Road. Support the author by reading it there.


    His eyes wavered, wondering if they saw correctly. Roughly the size of a palm, the attack left the oak shaking, a few more leaves falling down consequently.


    Suddenly the girl’s head turned, right where he was at. Glimmering faintly through the hood, her pink eyes stared at him with a composed manner.


    “Bring me the page,” she said, her voice cutting nippily through the air, right to where he stood.


    “Yes, my lady,” he replied, walking with the papers in his arms, as well as the ink and pen on top of them. Carefully taking the top sheet, on which something had already been written, he promptly gave it to his master, along with the pen whilst holding out the ink.


    Not moving her arms a single bit, the paper hovered on its own, holding rigid against the splendid gales. Lacking any sort of crease or wrinkle while floating towards the demon holding her pen seemed to defy everything.


    Soon, Zyponia dipped the pen before touching the space left after a few words on the paper. Trickling less than he would have thought, the ink glued itself to the paper as she poured words onto it.


    Yet, as speedily as she did the process, Lutiel stared at the girl, her disposition waning. Unlike the day prior when she deftly wrote the words, at the current moment, she hesitated momentarily in a few instances.


    Seldomly, the curving of the letters went off course, the demon lord correcting her mistakes with a scribble over the imprecise grammar. However, they started to accumulate throughout the process. Just when she neared half of the paper, the fault she had amassed accounted to six.


    Silence followed a dot as she stored the pen in the holder Lutiel had in his left hand. Putting it there, along with the paper on top of Lutiel’s arms, Zyponia remained unmoving, instead of going back to attacking the tree.


    Placed in front of her slave, she stared momentarily into his eyes. Nonetheless, before long, she turned back to the tree, under a bizarre gaze of the man.


    ‘Was she trying to say something?’ He puzzled himself with a straight face, quickly washing the thoughts away when Zyponia placed herself against the tree once again.


    This time, with a clear, deep breath reaching his ears, she raised her hands somewhat, sprawling out the fingers towards the ample oak.


    Her cloak no longer fluttered like before, the hairs returning to their casual style while the girl moved one of her legs back, taking on a ‘stance’, as Lutiel mused.


    Tightening the muscles of her hands, they shook slightly, at the same time changing the course of the wind. The man’s eyelids raised themselves vaguely, his hair starting to move towards her.


    At that moment, he knew instinctively. He understood the need to observe the tree before something could happen.


    Much to his disheartenment, however, regardless how long he stood there, nothing came forth by observing the tree.


    Instead, a dispirited, clear sigh resounded through the space, catching him unprepared. Quickly turning his head back to the wail’s source, he looked at his master, hiding her hands in the cloak like before.


    “My lady, is something wrong?” He asked with a clenched jaw, getting a swift reaction. Zyponia turned around suddenly at his words, her usually composed face no longer visible.


    With furrowed eyebrows, she opened her mouth towards the servant.


    “Why did you take the suit?” She asked tersely, making Lutiel keep to himself for a few moments, stunned at the lack of reason floating through his head.


    “I didn’t want to, but Luviene convinced me to,” he replied, making the purple-haired girl raise her eyebrow a bit.


    “She did?” Zyponia followed, with more gusto than he ever anticipated. “What else have you done together? Didn’t I tell you to go in and just take the dress?”


    Although somewhat starstruck, he couldn’t express it in any profound way.


    “My lady? I didn-...,” he spoke up, or at least tried to before his words were cut off by himself, a striking hot, a searing pain mediating from the middle of his chest. “After I saw her other form, she pulled me in and kissed me.”


    The man briskly fell to his knees, clutching his chest with a hand while the items slipped out of his embrace, descending rapidly. Before they could be soiled, though, they hovered above the ground when something seized them in the air.


    Stretching out her arms, the girl swiftly caught the papers, ink, and the pen holder while the man started huffing, a heavy breath ascending through his lungs.


    Looking up at the world with a clenched jaw, his vision no longer played ploys with him, starting to unfold through the hazy murkiness.


    At the same time, Lutiel no longer scratched onto his tie, the pain subsiding considerably.


    “That vixen, I knew I should have gone there myself,” muttering under her breath, she kept staring at the slightly curled up slave, who began patiently raising himself up from the ground.


    Breathing as though he had just run around the manor a few times over, it smoothed out eerily in a matter of moments, all while regaining his reasoning through the space.


    Staring at the girl that glanced back at him, he felt her pink eyes scouring right through every bit of him, nothing to be kept before his master.


    “What did she tell you?” A simple question left her mouth, but he needed to stop for a second and think carefully.


    Only after a few seconds passed did he finally utter some words, without a searing pain that clouded his mind anymore. “She mentioned something about a ball.”


    “Anything else?”


    “No, my lady,” grinding his teeth through the voice, he couldn’t risk something getting blurted out. Even if Luviene advised him earlier, it wasn’t loyalty he tried to evince.


    Keeping a blank face at him for a brief period, a sigh followed once again, a bit exasperated compared to before. “Alright. There will be a party I’m attending in ten days, and you’re going with me thanks to her. You will have to tell Raeyine you’re replacing her.”


    Hearing her, his eyebrows creased ever so slightly, pondering over the matter.


    “My lady, did you not request a suit for me from Miss Luviene?”


    “Hmm? No, why are you asking?” She questioned the man, looking at him with misty understanding.


    ‘She lied,’ he thought to himself, his lips parting soon after.


    “She told me the opposite,” his voice quickly reached the ears of the demonic lady, prompting to spread her eyes wider.


    “No wonder,” Zyponia whispered, on the verge of silence.
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