Red Wedding, Pt. 2

An entourage was approaching—all wearing the standard Blac’hil servant attire, all sharing the same grim expression.

What now?

One of them stepped forward, bowing slightly before speaking.

"Your Highness, we have a situation developing on the main road leading up the mountain."

Kael frowned. "Go on."

"As you are aware, given that the bride is foreign to Highcliff and not of demonkin blood, a carriage was required for the procession. Regular humans are not able to withstand climbing the steps."

Elisa raised a brow. "Isn’t that standard?”

The servant hesitated. "Yes, but we've received reports from other Highcliff humans—concerns of smoke, shouting, and an argument escalating near the road."

Kael's expression tightened slightly. "Shit."

"We doubt it's anything serious. The Lycans are formidable on their own. Most likely, it’s a protest of some kind. Maybe a blockade, nothing more. The Lycans would tear ne'erdoers to shreds. They’re at least civil enough not to kill anyone outright."

Kael exhaled, adjusting his collar.

"I’ll handle it. I’ll speak with them and de-escalate."

"Let me come with you," Elisa said—a little too quickly.

Kael arched a brow. "Are you sure? It might be dangerous."

"It’d probably help that I actually sympathize with the protestors. And they’d probably take it better from me than the colonizer of our lands."

Kael placed a dramatic hand over his chest. "Such a loaded word! Colonizer? And here I thought we were past the name-calling."

"Can it."

Kael smirked but didn’t push. "There also remains another problem."

He gestured toward the mountain path beyond the manor windows.

"I don’t suppose you’d be able to ride on a three-foot bat. The road is long, windy, and not kind to carriages."

"You’re one big, fat bat. Holy shit."

"I got something else that’s b—"

"O-kayyy!!" Elisa cut in, shoving his shoulder. "You can go now, dear."

Kael chuckled.

"Well, if the missus insists… don’t worry, I’ll be back before you miss me."

Elisa exhaled sharply as he and his fellow vampires left the scene. As she said, this was going to be a long night.

\\

Elisa had spent the better part of the evening trying to form connections.

It wasn’t going great.

Most people recognized her.

And most poked fun at her.

“Ah, the Count’s little human, wandering without her keeper?”

It was subtle, always with a smile, always just polite enough to not be outright disrespectful. But the message was clear: she was Kael’s wife, not her own person.

And it made sense.

She reckoned her past self had never bothered to introduce herself beyond the vicinity of the Count. Apparently, she had been content to be the wife of the most powerful man in Highcliff. She was sure that it was not the full story, but that is what it seemed to her.

Why would she? If Kael was always there, always commanding the room, always the one they looked at first, what point was there when everything was so easy?

Well. People were entertained, at least.

But there were also those who didn’t know her.

Or at least, hadn’t met her properly.

Some watched her efforts with interest—especially the women and the demonkin outside the alpha system.

The ones who had never needed to be louder, crueler, stronger to survive.

They saw her trying. And that was worth something.

Elisa was watching the crowd, eyes skimming over the shifting figures of demonkin nobility, foreign delegates, and far too many people she didn’t recognize.

But that wasn’t what caught her attention.

A small thing, floating.

She wanted to get closer, to figure out what exactly it was, but the two stationed guards at its side were enough to halt her steps.

That was, until the thing spoke.

Now closer, looked to be… a short imp-fey hybrid, still lazily leaning against a banquet table, snapped their fingers toward the guards.

"Let her through."

The guards hesitated.

One of them frowned. "My lord, that is—"

"She’s not going to harm a hair on me." The fey grinned, flicking their tail. "And I, shockingly, will not be harming a hair on her. If you’re going to stand there and look pretty, at least be useful."

The guards exchanged a brief glance, but after a tense moment, they stepped aside.

They tilted their head toward her, a sharp grin flashing.

"You’re a bold one. Punching above your weight class. I like that. Just because you’re weaker doesn’t bar you from making a connection."

What is it with demonkin and competitions to see who has the biggest cocks? Like Highcliff but on steroids. "You must think Highcliff is a joke. All this progress, all these efforts. Must look like nothing."

The imp’s grin didn’t fade, but there was a brief pause.

Then, a careless shrug. "I’m not the type to kick a puppy when it’s down. But I respect you, you know why?"

"Enlighten me."

The imp-thing swirled her drink lazily. "I can tell a lot of progress has been made—not the way demonkin see it, but real progress all the same. I like that. You don’t take shit from anyone. You acquire strength as you see what strength looks like."

"And what, before the invasion, this place was just a joke to you?"

"We were shocked, honestly. Backwater as all hell. Even when the Basin was right there for the taking. Now look at it."

"The Concordant allowed us to continue our way of life, for the most part. They couldn’t hold onto it. Too many fingers in too many pies."

Her golden eyes flicked over the hall, the structures beyond the manor windows.

"Still backwater by demon standards, but to humans? It’s a paradise. The envy of the Concordant."

"How do you know that?"

She exhaled through her nose. "A close member of my harem who… who happens to also be my ally. He wanted to work for me first thing I set foot on shore, send money back home—hoping to move his family out to the Basin. He sees where the Concordant is going, and I don’t blame them. At least move to somewhere more stable for the foreseeable future."

Elisa’s lips pressed into a thin line. "You’d settle for a human?"

The imp smirked; just a little too much fang.

"Doesn’t help at all you’re hopelessly weak… and romantic. If I let him go for a second, who knows what will happen to him?"

They leaned in slightly, voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper.

"And do not tell anyone… I have developed a taste most acquired. He would often unleash his pent-up anger behind closed doors—"

"T-too much information!"

The imp had the gall to laugh as her face turned beet-red.

“While that way of life is horribly inefficient, and quite frankly, selfish, I have come to appreciate humanity’s easy-going nature.”

You are one to call people selfish.

The imp-fey’s sharp grin soon faltere as their pointed ears twitched.

Something had caught their attention.

Elisa saw it too—a flicker of movement near the entrance.

The fey sighed dramatically, setting down their drink. "Ah, duty calls."

They turned back to Elisa, and for the first time tonight, the grin softened. Just a little.

"This was fun. You’re a refreshing change of pace from the egos too inflated in here."

Then, with a sharp laugh—"Mine included. But at least I have the power to back that up, hah!"

"Good for you!"

The fey flicked their tail, eyes gleaming. "Consider this a declaration—if you ever need anything, let me know. You are an ally. Any ally of mine is as safe as cards."

They stepped back, already turning to leave.

Then, over their shoulder—"And I’d like to be your friend, if time permitted it. Try not to disappoint me, yeah? Go and make trouble."

The fey disappeared into the crowd.

Elisa exhaled, turning back to her drink.

Well. If that wasn’t a rousing success, she didn’t know what else qualified.

Elisa turned back toward the banquet, fully intending to drown herself in more wine and polite conversation. But first, the washroom.

As she walked down the halls, she couldn't help but notice something seemed off.

Like a prickle beneath her skin. And she was sure she didn't contract the dreaded Skin Borough Worm disease the folk tales told of. 

Her Aura? Maybe. But this wasn’t just instinct.

Something was calling her.

Without thinking, she stepped away from the banquet, moving carefully, deliberately, until she reached a quieter part of the hall.

And then she saw it.

A human figure on the balcony.

Watching. Waiting. And wearing a smile like she saw an old friend.

Elisa’s breath hitched.

Another assassin.

Of course.

But no—that wasn’t what made her pause.

It was the gesture.

A flick of the wrist, a subtle motion, one that had been burned into her memory long before her marriage. 

The worst part was that... she knew what it meant.

But why now?

Why tonight?