I rearrange my collection again—”for the hundredth time” as my eldest sister would say. I comb my hair again, because Ember has singed it again. I let out a sigh, setting him on the marble floor. “I told you, you’re gonna set my perfect fit on fire!” I scold. He just hisses at me. Ember is one of the most rare things in the world. A Blaze Serpent. Extremely rare, extremely dangerous. But it’s fine. Ember’s a baby. Blaze Serpents are basically snakes that are always on fire and can control fire. Usually they die easily because of winter, but I have a special heater for Ember so he stays alive. He hatched about a year ago. I was thirteen. Ember gets right back on me, and a sizzling sound fills the air as he burns my boot again. I let out a growl, shooing him off. “Stop it! What would the guest think if I’m always burning?! I have to be perfect before he arrives!” /A shapeshifter. A side character in my story. Just like everyone. No one but me is important./ I stand up tall, examining myself in the mirror. /Hm. Maybe a different outfit…/ But then Holly bursts in, kicking the door open with her heeled boot. She’s wearing a sleeveless dress that’s fastened around her neck today, most likely something Father picked out. “Come on, shrimp! I gave you an hour to do your primpy thing.” She tells me. “Just because you’re the eldest and heir to the throne doesn’t mean you can boss me around!” I sniff. “Yes it does. COME ONNNNNN.” She grabs my hand and drags me out of the room, ruining my perfect hair. “Nope! Nope!” I protest, wiggling out of her grip. “You ruined it!” I return to the mirror, combing it again. Ember exchanges a sigh with Holly, earning a glare from me. “You’re supposed to be on my side, Ember!” I protest. He does something like raising an eyebrow—if he had any. I finish my hair. “Alright! Fine! I suppose that’ll do for now!” I hiss. “Happy now?” “You’re keeping Father waiting.” She retorts, kicking the backs of my knees. I stumble. The middle child of our family—Gold—dances past. “Come on, slowpokes!” She sings, her cape fluttering. She’s wearing a simple tunic and trousers with boots. I growl. “You’re going like THAT?!” I hiss. “Just because you’re a primped little prince doesn’t mean I’m that way!” She retorts, poking me. “Unlike Holly, Father doesn’t care what we wear!” “Seems like Holly’s the only one he cares about at all.” I mutter. She sighs. “Maybe it’s a good thing you’re not the eldest. You’re a bit too arrogant and cocky for my taste in rulers.” “Alright you two.” Holly says. “We’re here.” Holly is twenty years old now, Gold is seventeen. Leaving me last place at fourteen and a half. We emerge into the throne room, where Father and Mother are in their thrones, speaking with a person who looks about fifteen or so. /The guest is a kid?!/ The guest is grinning, twirling his hand as he talks about something politics, “where this world is coming to” and “you should be honored to have me.” /Huh./ I note how his posture is—how he holds himself like royalty. I suppose we may not be so different. He has obsidian-black hair streaked with neon green, pulled into a ponytail. His eyes are bright orange, and looking like a snake’s—with slitted eyes and wide pupils. He’s dressed in a simple white chiton belted with a simple gold cord, with navy leather arm cuffs and simple lace-up sandals. A silver circlet sits on his brow, engraved with a symbol that looks like an arrowhead pointing up for some reason. His eyes meet mine, and something sparks in them—interest? Respect? Then he bows to Father. “I’m sure this could be a fruitful visit.” He says, seeming to lace his words with honey. “I’ve always wanted to see the famed Demon Kingdom in person!” Father lifts an eyebrow. /Ooh, dial it down a bit, guest. Flattery just makes him suspicious./ “Well yes. We have some of the biggest gemstone mine caves in the world.” He replies. “Could you be so kind as to tell me, immortal Lord Damyan, how old you are as of now?” Damyan stands up, tapping his chin. “I believe I’m running on fifty now. Or sixty?” He spreads his arms. “I guess in mortal terms, I’m about sixteen then.” “Does this mean you are practically a god?” Father asks. Damyan laughs. “Oh, no way. I can die. It’s just extremely difficult. I can’t die of old age, and to kill me, you have to do it before I regenerate.” “So say if you turn out bad in an alliance, you could be tortured and still live if you are given breaks?” Father asks. /Oh damn. That turned out dark fast./ Something flashes in Damyan’s eyes—almost like fear—before he grins. “I mean, yeah. If the people I’m allied with can get a hold of me, sure! But I’m a slippery sucker!” His form shrinks until he’s a snake, then he grows and returns to human. “My wounds heal faster the more I shift, though. Even if it’s just a part of my body.” “Interesting. This could be a fruitful visit indeed.” Father’s eyes land on me and my sisters. “You three are late.”
Holly curtsies. “My apologies, Father. Leaf took forever primping.” I lift my chin defiantly. Father only nods. “Don’t let it happen again.” He says. “Lord Damyan of the Shapeshifters and Hollowlight family, these are my children. Damyan’s eyes are locked on me as Father continues. “Our eldest and line to the throne, Princess Holly.” Father gestures to Gold. “Our middle child, Princess Gold.” And finally to me. “And our youngest, Prince Leaf.” “You will most likely get to know them quite well.” Father says, standing up and sweeping out of the throne room. “Enjoy your stay.” Having dealt with standing next to my less-important sisters, I sidle away from them. /Ah, much better. I hate standing next to such… side characters./ Damyan’s eyes follow my every move, kind of unsettling but also flattering at once. Then he steps up to Holly, bowing deep. “It is an honor to meet you, your highness.” He purrs, then bows to Gold. “And an honor to meet you too.” Then he steps up to me, bowing down. /A little bit too relaxed, and too quick to stand up./ “An even more pleasure to meet you, Prince Leaf.” He smiles, holding out a hand. “I look forward to knowing you.” Gold gestures at Damyan, giving Holly an open-mouthed “why does LEAF get the flattery?” look. Holly only shrugs in reply. I shake Damyan’s hand, whispering in his ear, “I personally look forward to seeing you kick our father off his high horse.” Mother raises an eyebrow at me—as if trying to figure out what I said from my face—and leaves the room. Damyan chuckles. “Could be nice to have some inside help, then.” He whispers back. And Damyan’s escort to his quarters arrives to take him away. I let out a yawn and shoo Ember off my boot again. “Why are you even out of my room?!” I hiss. “You’re lucky the castle is made of gemstones!” I pull my fireproof gloves out of my pocket—fashionable navy that goes great with my outfit—and put them on. I pick Ember up, and he curls around my wrist comfortably. Damyan shoots me a look like, “holy crap, you have one of those?” before letting his escort sweep him out of the room. Growling at Ember for breaking my “stay in the room” rule, I exit the throne room on the other side of the door, striding towards my room in the center of the royal hall. I tighten my grip on Ember as he tries to get to the extremely flammable tapestries. Another growl escapes my throat, but he just hisses in response. “Can you maybe BEHAVE?!” I snap, opening my bedroom door, and throwing him on the floor. “I’m going to the kitchens to see if they have any more sweets. STAY.” He shoots me a look like, “sure, like you behave just fine, hypocrite,” before curling up on his fireproof bed. Rolling my eyes, I shut the door and walk towards the main hall of the castle. On the way, I pass Lianara Tuskwhirl, an Animal Demon with a creative streak. If only she made real art. Pictures of main characters, like me. Instead of landscapes and the animals she admires. Animal Demons are demons who are represented by a certain animal—it’s seemed random so far—and they have the traits of those animals. Like say, they were cat represented. They would have catlike eyes, along with the personality traits. So far, I’ve seen cat demons with curious, skittish, predatory, or sociable traits. And all the cat demons I’ve seen love sleeping in the sun and strange places, sitting in high up places, water play, stealing small objects, and time alone. /Too many times have I found the couple cat demons I know stealing my collectables. And there was that raven-represented demon who stole my gemstones. Dang Animal Demons./ Lianara has dyed pink hair and swanlike eyes. She makes her own clothes, often being elaborate dresses with crazy patterns, or tunics and trousers with colorful swirls. Lianara doesn’t even notice me at first—typical. She’s hunched over her sketchbook like the fate of the world depends on whatever she’s scribbling. Probably another deer. Or a mountain. Or a deer on a mountain. /Honestly, broaden your horizons. Draw someone interesting. Like me./ I clear my throat loudly as I pass, just in case she wants to acknowledge royalty. She doesn’t. She just flicks her eyes up for half a second, gives me a polite nod, and goes right back to her sketching. /Rude./ I keep walking, chin high, cape swishing behind me in a very regal manner. The castle hall is quiet at this hour; most demons are either working, training, or doing whatever boring things non‑main‑characters do. My boots click against the gemstone floor, echoing dramatically. I like the sound. It makes me feel important. As I turn the corner toward the kitchens, I hear footsteps behind me—quick, light ones. Someone trying to catch up. “Prince Leaf!” a voice calls. I sigh. Loudly. /If this is another servant asking if Ember escaped again, I swear–/
