Punch-Drunk Love

For the Lord and Lady of Highcliff, the trip back was brisk and trivial.

After their sorely needed visit, they decided that they needed to take some initiative. Elisa really liked the concept of performing small, accomplishable tasks first over solving the myriad of bigger ones that lay rotting in the closet.

Coming down from a high of so much getting done—guerilla surveillance, breaking up some hidden bandit camps as practice who decided one month’s worth of inaction prompted the creation of a base, meeting people where they were.

This was what Highcliffian leadership was all about, and the information they got from their people was invaluable.

Absolutely colored by the fact their King stood by her, but their brutal honesty was a breath of fresh air.

The need for smoother roads on the outskirts of the region, people warming up to the luxuries that the demonkin brought with them—a want for bathhouses, renovating dingy watering holes, more places for the kids to play in since the average age of this country was disproportionately lower than its neighboring contemporaries. All of this and more!

Once the rebellion was dealt with—preferably without more bloodshed—these concerns would be addressed. Elisa could already picture it: bustling markets, laughter echoing from newly built playgrounds, the scent of fresh bread wafting from renovated inns.

All in all, it was a hell of a whiplash once they had gotten back to the manor.

"Pauline’s gone?!"

\\

The Lady of the Manor paced, back and forth, as if sheer kinetic energy could will Pauline back. As soon as she returned, they’d hash it out. That was the promise Elisa made to herself.

Kael exhaled sharply, fingers digging into his temples. “So much cunning—no, so much certainty.” His voice seethed with barely-contained rage. “She’d rather risk humiliation sneaking past us than trust we could ever be reasoned with.”

His jaw clenched.

“We shielded her. Protected her from generals who would've ripped answers from her throat—and for what?”

When Kael spoke again after a long pause, it was quiet but searing.

“It was my fault. For trusting you over my gut.”

Elisa swallowed, her heart hammering.

“Against all better judgement, I did it because she was your friend—don’t forget that.” His voice sharpened, cutting clean through the room. “And now? Everything in this damned castle is compromised. She understands how we operate, and maybe—just maybe—how incompetent we are.”

Elisa’s fists clenched.

“Throwing her in a dungeon wouldn’t have solved anything, Kael. You meet violence with violence, it begets violence. You think she’d have given us the truth then? That’s how rebellions grow.”

Kael let out a short, bitter laugh.

“Something about this land is cursed.” His expression darkened, his hands flexing at his sides. “I am cursed.”

The venom in his voice made her flinch.

“Cursed to be hopelessly in love with someone who wishes for nothing but my downfall.”

Elisa spun to face him.

"This very midday you pulled your arm around my shoulder, and now you're acting like I personally slaughtered your dog! Why do you always blow everything out of proportion?"

Kael let out a slow, shuddering breath.

“Before we invaded, my mother and father were fine. Just fine.” His voice was rough now, like something cracking beneath the surface. “Then we set foot in Highcliff, and something snapped. Made them reckless. Made them crazy enough to throw themselves into an unwinnable war to secure some imagined ‘legacy.’”

His gaze flickered toward the window, toward the storm clouds rolling over the cliffs.

“I was supposed to be a scholar. An expert in human behavior. I studied policy, governance. That was supposed to be my life.”

A sharp pause. His voice turned cold again.

“But instead, I have a rebellion to put down.”

Elisa stepped forward. “Then let me help find them.”

Kael’s expression barely changed.

“You’ve helped enough.”

She scoffed. “Are you serious?”

His fingers twitched. “Do this one thing for me, Elisa.”

"Why are you raising your voice at me?"

Kael's head snapped toward her. "Shit, Elisa, you of all people should know—with your fresh perspective on Highcliff governance—surely I’m allowed to feel anger?"

Her eyes narrowed. "So that’s what this is, huh? One disagreement and suddenly you’re losing your shit? I am just pointing out what you’ve been taught to do and think is psychotic! The demonkin are psychotic!"

“I don’t know what to feel anymore! This morning, I felt like I could die for you, and now—” His voice faltered, his hands curling into fists. “Now, I keep seeing all these reminders that we don’t see eye to eye anymore, and…”

Elisa opened her mouth, but he didn’t let her speak.

Kael's voice cracked. "I don't even know what I’m supposed to feel. If I listen to you, I betray everything I've learned, good people who only want the survival of our collective existence. If I don't, I betray you."

Kael paused, like he’d just run a mile, his chest rising and falling too fast.

Then, quieter—"I’m afraid of what the generals will think of all this.”

Elisa’s expression hardened. “I told you, you don’t have to worry about what other people think of me—”

“I am afraid of what they will think of me!”

Kael dragged a hand through his hair.

“I am afraid that from entertaining you, from adapting too much, they will think I am weak. That I am turning my back on my history.”

"Yeah, your rich history of imperialism and blood-spilling, how grand." Elisa bristled. “Do you not think my suggestions are valuable? Are the humans just stepping stones to more efficient rule?”

To that, he exhaled sharply, looking away. "It just goes against everything in recorded demonkin history that works, Elisa. You’re conceding too much to the humans—humans who already hate you. While I appreciate mercy, there’s a time and place for it. The last time a nation like yours tried to be this idealistic, they got overthrown and absorbed. I don't want for that to happen, even in my wildest imaginations.”

Elisa scoffed. "So this is what it's about? Why are we fighting over this again? Why are we regressing to where we were weeks ago? Why didn’t you tell me this from the start?"

"Because when I talk to you, sometimes you make me so angry, because what you suggest is so irrational and inefficient, and—"

“Stop raising your voice at me!”

“I’m only raising my voice because you raised your own!”

"You can go the rest of this week bloodless then if you are going to be this petty."

Kael’s eyes widened.

"How could you…?”

“If you are going to be such an asshole about everything, then I will be one too!” Elisa screamed, voice cracking. “You could have not taken my suggestion at my word, and you decided against me. It’s both our faults, why are you always trying to blame it solely on me?”

Kael’s breathing was uneven, his voice hoarse from the weight of his own frustration.

"I need your blood to live and function."

His fingers dug into his sleeves.

"After everything I’ve done—after everything I’ve sacrificed—you said we should listen more to each other. You preached that."

His eyes bored into hers.

"So why doesn’t that apply to me? Why is it only you who gets to be heard?"

Elisa opened her mouth, but he pressed on.

"You think that’s fair? Huh?" His voice wavered now, low, pained. "Why are you trying to punish me for treating you like my equal?"

Elisa’s chest tightened. "I am not trying to punish you!"

The words ripped from her throat, and for a while afterwards, neither of them said anything.

Their throats burned from shouting.

Then, Kael let out a half-laugh. "I don't even remember what we were arguing about anymore..."

Elise's next words came out softer, weaker—but no less desperate. "Please, just let me help. Let me in. I barely know anything about you beyond what we’ve accomplished together. You live in a different world than me, and I get that—but you keep pretending you’re fine, when you’re not."

Elisa’s breath hitched. Her fingers trembled.

"I’ve tried to reach your generals, tried to understand how your world works. But every time I do, I see her—Mom, crushed beneath rubble. Blood running down her scalp. And I can’t shake it."

Her voice cracked, but she pressed on.

"And I feel like this is the only way to make you listen. Maybe it’s fucked up. But I can’t pretend it doesn’t eat at me—that I’m in love with the same demonkin who tore Highcliff apart."

Kael’s lips parted slightly, something flickering in his eyes.

"Why haven’t you thrown me out?" Elisa whispered. "Why didn’t you throw me out years ago?"

Kael froze.

His breathing faltered. His fists clenched at his sides.

Then—"Because I love you."

Elisa stared at him.

Her voice dropped to a whisper.

"That’s not enough. Why do you love me?"

Kael’s throat bobbed.

"What did I do, Kael? What do I offer that someone else can’t?"

A pause.

Then, his voice emerged—quieter, more wounded than he’d ever allowed himself to sound.

"Because to you, I wasn’t Kael Blac’hil. It was just Kael." He gave a hollow laugh. "I couldn’t bear living with my family back home. Especially my extended family. I was Kael with the feats. Kael with the highest scores. Kael with achievements hanging around his neck like a plaque."

He exhaled slowly.

"You think I had a life in the capital, outside of my education?" His voice dropped lower, heavier. "No."

His gaze met hers, unflinching.

"And that’s all I ever was—until you came along. And now? Now I’m here. The spoiled child who had it too good. The coward. The disappointment. The man whose family killed yours. The man whose allies mock him for loving someone they see as lesser. You told me they died in the Invasion—you made it clear. And I’ve lived every day knowing I kissed the skin and lips of someone whose life I helped ruin. And I loved it. I loved every second I loved you, despite that. I’m a monster." His voice was barely a whisper now. "And you know what? I’d do it all again."

Kael breathed in for a second. "The expectations, the obligations—they all faded away. Left a husk. And I filled that husk with you. I was a demonkin. That’s all I’d ever been. But with you, I was more. It felt wrong to love you… and yet..." Kael let out a breath. "I became Kael the Eccentric. Kael who painted and danced ballet. Kael, collector of menageries. The vampire who mastered Piledin cuisine and spent too long perfecting his bread-making."

His lips twitched, though his eyes stayed solemn. "You completed me. Gods, I wanted you to like me. I wanted you to love me so badly, I—"

His voice caught. He swallowed hard.

Elisa didn’t breathe.

Kael continued, fingers tightening into his sleeves. "If we’re going to take each other seriously—truly—then I have to start from a place of honesty."

A pause.

Then, softly—

"My decisions were being warped by you." His voice quieted. "In good ways… and bad ways. And this time, I ask myself—is our love worth it if one of us has to become something we’re not? If we have to carve out pieces of ourselves just to fit?"

His gaze locked onto hers, raw, unguarded. "I couldn’t help it. I can’t live without you. And I think…" He exhaled sharply. "There’s no kiss in the world that can kiss away all our shit."

Silence.

For a while.

A beat.

Elisa blinked at him—then snorted.

And for some godforsaken reason, they lunged forward and embraced.

They sobbed. Both of them. Graceless and snot-nosed, a tangled, tragic waltz of muffled cries and shaking shoulders.

Elisa let out a wet laugh, pressing her forehead to his shoulder. “We’re both fuckups, huh?”

Kael chuckled, his grip tightening. “Yeah.”

Then he angled her neck toward him—and she might’ve protested, if not for the kiss that followed. A kiss that turned her thoughts into gloopy mush.

No more pretences. No more playing coy. This wasn’t just love—it was hunger. Like a tiger that hadn't eaten for weeks. And no mistaking it, he was starved.

A raw, unfiltered need for her—and only her. As if kissing alone could show his devotion, his commitment.

And godsdamn it all—it was working.

\\

“My dog of a husband…”

For the first time in a long while, Elisa felt at peace. More at peace than in all those nights beside the Count. They were going to get through this.

She felt the rise and fall of his chest. The slow, steady beats of his vampiric heart. Who knew the undead could hold so much warmth?

All it took was… well.

The laughter came. First Kael. Then her.

Until it spiraled into something uncontrollable and hysterical and the most beautiful thing in the world.