“Hmm?” She raised an eyebrow, interest smitten along the face. “Are you saying I would only be around you if I was here?” With the question going through him, she made the man stutter suddenly, flustered about the words.


    “Eh? No, I-” Quickly, his voice cut off under her tongue.


    “Well, you aren’t wrong.” Getting a piercing grin from the demon, the winds around them once again changed as they moved along the floor orderly, their time together finishing only when Luviene’s face flinched up, turning behind her.


    Lutiel, similarly, looked somewhat shocked as he saw the purple-haired demon. Without a single word, Zyponia simply gestured to the girl, who turned back and left her dancing partner with a downhearted expression, swiftly moving away.


    Looking at the back escaping, he caught Zyponia, who stared at him for no more than a brief moment, only to follow the red-headed girl.


    Just like that, he stared at the two girls leaving him alone. And before he could even try to speak, a shackling grasp twisted around his chest, prickling away at his throat. No matter what he did, his lips stayed shut adamantly.


    …


    Listening to her prior advice, Lutiel stood near the end of the ballroom, glancing at the lands beyond through one of the arched windows that also acted as doors to the balconies against the shore. Spectating through the light blue curtains, as well as the metallic grilles separating the window into multiple rectangles, the ship near the shabby platform caught his attention.


    Curving daintily along the shore, the ship anchored in the waters didn’t wobble remotely at the waves crashing into it from behind. Regardless of any repeated attacks, it stood sturdy in its appearance, not fading away in the slightest.


    His eyes couldn’t find a single imperfection perforating against the sleek, curved planks that made up the external walls of the ship. Despite the darkness approaching all around, he could still witness its true beauty, painted with a mix of red and golden that faded into each other from his lengthy distance.


    Its pale sails, rolled up for a resting period, glistened under the bright crystals at the top of the masts and its sides, illuminating the entirety of the ship, along with the waters around it.


    The lines connecting the sails and the masts couldn’t sway in the calm wind, its tautness simply cutting through the wafts.


    Regardless how long his gaze hovered about, his eyes didn’t seem to want to break their reflections apart. Stuck to the enticing ship, Lutiel left the thoughts to himself, pondering his earlier talks with the demon seamstress. Still, he couldn’t keep them all from pouring out to the world.


    ‘I guess even you can call something home, huh?’ He mused as his eyes perked up slightly, glancing at the dark clouds beyond the horizon blending in with the ocean.


    Standing there, as though frozen in time, Lutiel didn’t try to move away in the slightest. His eyes were kept on the waters, glancing constantly into the unknown. However, after tens of breaths left his nostrils, the slave eventually turned around, the entirety of the ballroom finally attaching itself within his pupils.


    Having situated himself near the left corner at the end of the room, a few steps away from the center and from where he danced with Luviene, he promptly started walking back. Without prolonging too much, the man quickly found the sole source of moonlight mellowing out under the crystallic light.


    Briskly, taking only a few glances before going on his way, Lutiel stared at the where the city would have been if not for the nightly shadows veiling the lands. Yet, seeing nothing other than the crescent gingerly disappearing from the face of the skies, he once again looked at the at the ballroom ahead of him.


    With a dim nature, the marbles reflected the chandeliers dully, overwhelmed by the shadows of the people inside. Fully in front of him, amidst the pairs of demons dancing with each other, the man saw more than ten backs facing him as they lingered near the center, where the largest table was set in place.


    Many unknown faces pronounced themselves to him, only two of the figures blaring with familiarity. As for the rest, despite their hidden fates, Lutiel could still tell their importance. Not overly dressed, they hadn’t come to the place to party, it seemed to him. Rather, they looked uncomfortable wearing such loose attires.


    Especially the man, whose image beamed to gather attention. Towering over the rest with his eerily tall and brawny figure, much like Magon’s, a scowl naturally rested atop his square-like head. Matching in with the eyes and horns, his black pupils reflected a simple gleam of the lights and nothing more.


    Glancing down at the table, his pale lips moved swiftly, but identically to the demons around the smaller tables, Lutiel could hear no word utter out into the space beyond their group. The only voices creeping along the expansive room came from those not included in the middle.A case of literary theft: this tale is not rightfully on Amazon; if you see it, report the violation.


    Nearly all of them wore two horns on their heads, except for a sole girl in the bunch, who possessed a singular one. However, they didn’t treat her any less. Listening as she spoke, they exchanged words respectfully, unlike the racket he could hear moving near the doors.


    ‘It must be someone very important,’ mused Lutiel as he ingrained their gestures, along with the movement of their lips. Yet, before he could ponder any more about them, his sight broke apart out of nowhere. Looking in front of him, at the one that came into his sight, his head lowered itself slightly, taking a glance at the glasses filled with a sparkly fluid.


    Dressed in a simple, sleek suit of dark and white tones, the human stood next to the waiter, quickly glancing up to witness the cold, murky gray metal clinging around the man’s neck.


    Somewhat perplexed, he stared at the slave, few of which made their way around the ballroom. Wherever they happened to be, however, Lutiel always witnessed their demonic master in the front, as if trying to show off their possession.


    Suddenly, the man’s mouth began to open. “Prie, taca arn,” he said, the meek, yellow skin around his face not moving a strand’s breadth, the orange eyes of his glancing down instead of at the slave, no light bouncing off of them.


    Looking at his nearly dead expressions, he could see a few similarities to the human slaves, at least in the composure. However, other than that, nothing seemed to relate. The man looked as if he had been taken care of every day, his skin as smooth as a candle. Compared to the countless souvenirs of war entwined upon the human ones, the slave with no horns clearly stood out to him.


    Nonetheless, quickly forgetting the thoughts, Lutiel once again glanced at the glasses on the wooden tray. ‘I guess he wants me to take one, huh?’ He mused, staring silently for a few more moments while not responding in the slightest.


    Eventually, he grabbed one of them, prompting the demon slave to back off immediately, turning around and walking away, making sure to not come too close to the table in the middle.


    Glancing down at the cup for a few moments, he swirled it around, however, not a single muscle in his right arm engaged to take even the vaguest sip. Quickly taking his head back, he lingered around the space, holding onto the champagne while letting their bubbles float away into the air.


    ‘At least the music is nice,’ He thought to himself, glancing at the left wall of the ball, also filled with the curtained windows.


    Swiftly, he went over to the side, his eyes kept at the handle of one of the windows. The balcony beyond led to an overview of the large courtyard he had previously walked through with Zyponia. Witnessing the absence of any soul on the platform with stone railings, he grabbed onto the round handle, only to disappoint himself as no amount of strength could open the glass.


    Sighing internally, he once again turned around before lingering next to the left wall of arched windows, nothing greater for him to do in the place. Despite that, leaning on the walls in between the panes didn’t seem to bring great light upon him.


    Under the odd looks he received from other dancers, on top of the demonic guests, before he even knew it, a figure flickered in the corner of his eyes, coming from the left side. Quickly moving his head to the side, he stared at the demon that clearly headed right for him.


    Moving off the wall, he stopped leaning on it, but still gave way for the guest to pass by. Yet, as the man started doing so, he halted himself before turning straight at him, making Lutiel’s brows furrow.


    He quickly glanced up at the short, brown hair the man ruffled through with his black claws against the two dark brown horns, a dismissing attitude covering his cloudy red eyes. The leisurely demon pocketed his left hand before doing the same with the right, hunching his back slightly while gaping at the man.


    “Hmm? Vic ges li dho involni un Zyponia, eh? Tis mesl ges tene yast bec e bisa einc voi,” the man said with lazy eyelids, but the marbles inside screamed something else altogether. Rapidly, Lutiel took a few glances to the side, seeing as all of the demons stopped speaking with each other, apparently no longer interested in the mundane task.


    Instead, all of them, except for the table in the middle, stared down at what was happening to Zyponia’s slave.


    “Tis li nuen,” he said, getting the slave’s attention back with a delayed reaction. “Kozs’o bie ges misl ges li? Tis intomi vier art teca v e kelike involnia. Jun li e zero,” he snorted with laughter at the end before glancing at the glass in his right hand.


    “Ges li stre, huh?” He asked under no speech coming from the man. The demon''s lips promptly churned up into a crooked smile. “Inbie baj, tis’e involnia tane maci arn pil’yj,” he, the grin festering Lutiel’s eyebrows even further.


    ‘You couldn’t have waited any longer, huh?’ He thought whilst feeling the glass wriggle out of his control. Swiftly, without being able to move under his magic’s ploys, the glass fell down to the marble flooring. Shattering rabidly, the shards splashed along with the alcohol, promptly getting all over the hems of his trousers, as well as the glossy shoes.


    Immediately, from the laid-back and grinning expression, he forced the anger out of his face like a thunder, changing too quickly for the human to understand.


    “KOZS LI GES BIE’YR!?” He screamed at the top of his lungs, glancing down at the legs of his trousers, the bottom all doused in champagne. While shaking his left leg off, all of the demons’ sight gathered around them, the voice catching attention of the ones in the middle as well.


    Deftly turning around, the man’s nose scrunched up as he started walking towards the table. The music halted immediately while the immured dancers also looked at the commotion, their sight swiftly following the movements of the angry noble.


    “Zyponia! Pat kozs ges’e involni bei!” He shouted through the space, directing his fingers at the purple-haired lady with a somewhat perplexed focus. However, glancing at the slightly shaking head of Lutiel, she sighed internally before stepping over to him.


    “Kozs?” She asked, somewhat irritated, making the man explode even further as he stopped right before her, almost daring to dig his finger through her gown to prove his point.


    “Kozs? Ges li zaipi’yt kozs? Jun!” He bellowed, showing off his sullied attire, along with a few scratches on the surface of his glossy shoes. “Ars ret e laeg ne tis’e!” Agitated beyond belief, his irk poured out in the room, dissipating any conversations.