Chapter 01 An Unexpected Delivery

The castle shuddered for the third time in ten minutes, sending a mist of gray dust drifting onto Molly’s vanity.

“Hey! Come on! I’m trying to do my face here! Some of us wants to look pretty!” she shouted, not looking up from her magnifying mirror. 

She applied the final strokes of glittery, peach-colored eyeliner to her lower lash line. Another tremor, stronger this time. Her collection of perfumes and body mists rattled dangerously. “Ugh, Dad! Dad! Tell your boyfriend to keep it down!”

Outside her tower window, echoed sounds of epic combat. The roar of dark energy. The shing of a holy blade, her father’s booming voice, "Foolish hero! Your light is but a candle before my eternal darkness!"

Molly sighed, blowing a strand of her curled blonde hair out of her face. Today’s look was 'Sunset Glam': warm-toned eyeshadow, glossy lips, contour that highlighted her sun-kissed tan. She paired it with an oversized, fuzzy sweater and dark miniskirt. A far cry from the spiked armor and menacing aura her siblings preferred.

"UGH! Just once," she thought, "couldn’t they schedule their weekly death match on a day I'm not home?" 

Suddenly her bedroom wall exploded. One second there was ancient, demon-forged stone adorned with her poster of the idol group 'Crystal Ravens.' The next, a blur of white, gold, and blue came crashing through in a shower of bricks.

“Wha—?!”

The blur—a person—slammed into her, and the world became a tumbling cyclone of sparkly cosmetics, fuzzy fabric, and sheer momentum. They crashed through the opposite wall—the one leading to her actual bedroom—and landed in a heap on her fluffy bed with a sound of splintering wood and tearing lace.

 Mori found herself flat on her back, buried in the ruins of her duvet. And there was a weight on top of her. A warm, solid, masculine weight.

She blinked, dazed. Blonde hair—silkier than hers—tickled her nose. A scent of sunlight, and something indefinably clean filled her senses. Her eyes focused.

A face was inches from hers. Chiseled jaw, high cheekbones, long lashes resting on faintly tanned skin. A classic ikemen hero face, currently unconscious and perfectly serene. And his lips… were pressed directly against hers.

Time froze.

Molly's brain, usually a lively scroll of fashion tips, snack ideas, and how to contour a nose that's actually a little too pointy for human standards, went completely blank. Then, like a jammed printer, it started spitting out fragments.

"Wait-wait-wait-wait-wait! Is this...? Am I being... kissed? Like, FOR REAL?! My Very First Kiss. And it was an accident with my dad's arch-nemesis?"

A wild, giddy flutter erupted in her stomach. The fizzy, static feeling where their magics met—his pure light brushing against her hidden dark. It was like drinking sparkling cider that danced all the way down, leaving a trail of goosebumps. It was weird, but a good weird. 

"...He's kinda... super, duper, mega handsome up close. Like, sculpted-by-angels level. Those eyelashes are UNFAIR. Okay, Molly. Get it together! This is THE HERO you're kissing! The guy who tries to defeat Dad every week! The one with the 'Purge All Evil' business cards! What are you DOING?!"

A flustered heat exploded from her chest, turning her tanned skin a deep, rosy bronze. With a strangled yelp, she shoved at the broad shoulders above her. The hero—Leon, she knew his name from her father’s furious rants—rolled off her with a soft grunt, breaking the accidental kiss. He lay beside her on the demolished bed, out cold.

The warmth lingering on her lips, the strange, tingling sensation where their magics had briefly met. Before she could process this further, the new hole in her wall was filled with an immense, shadowy silhouette.

“MOLLY! MY SWEETHEART! ARE YOU ALLRIGHT?!”

Lord Malakar, the Demon Lord of the Abyssal Planes, Scourge of Humanity, stood in the rubble. He had hastily shifted from his ten-foot-tall, fiery-eyed battle form back into his preferred 'domestic dad' shape: a tall, middle-aged man with warm features, wearing a '#1 Demon Dad' shirt over his dark armor. 

“I am so sorry! That pesky champion of light has no respect for personal property! Or my daughter’s private time! Did you see where he went? I hit him with a rather strong ‘Void Lance’ and he…”

Before his crimson eyes landed on the unconscious hero lying next to his daughter on her frilly, heart-print sheets, Molly’s instincts kicked in.

In a move born of a thousand close calls hiding her human magazines, she yanked her giant, plush bunny blanket over Leon, covering him completely. She sat up, attempting a nonchalant pose.

“H-hero? W-w-what hero?” she squeaked while pointing a trembling, glitter-nail-polished finger toward her bedroom door, which led to the hallway. “I think I saw a flash of blue go running that way! He looked really scared! Go get him! Good hitting, Dad!”

Lord Malakar’s worried frown morphed into a proud, beaming smile. “He will pay for what he has done! Interrupting my princess’s beauty ritual is an unforgivable sin!” The smile vanished, replaced by a terrifying scowl as he turned toward the door. His body began to spark with dark energy, expanding back into his monstrous form. “NOW, WHERE DID THAT LITTLE SUNBEAM FLEE TO?! PREPARE FOR OBLIVION!”

He stormed out, the castle shaking with each thunderous step, his roars of challenge fading down the corridor.

Silence descended, broken only by the gentle plink of falling plaster.

Mori let out a breath of relief. She stared at the blanket-covered lump beside her. Slowly, she peeled back the corner.

There he was. The Hero Leon. Asleep like a fairy-tale prince. In her bed. Her heart did a strange, fluttering somersault.

"This is bad. This is so, so bad. He’s the enemy. He tries to defeat Dad every Tuesday and Friday. I should… call a guard. Or a sibling."

Instead, she found herself leaning closer. His lips looked… soft. The accidental kiss had been a shock, but not an unpleasant one. Her face heated up again. She bit her glossy lower lip, her gaze fixed on his.

"Just… one more kiss. A proper one. To see if… if it feels the same. To see if the fizzy thing happens again. The first one didn’t count. It was an accident! A crash-landing! That’s not a real first kiss at all. A real kiss is… on purpose. Purely for research. Obviously. This is it. My first real—"

Her face hovered inches from his. She could feel the gentle warmth of his breath.

His brow twitched. A soft, pained grunt escaped his lips. “Nngh…”

Mori froze, eyes wide.

His eyelids fluttered. Azure blue eyes, cloudy and unfocused, slowly opened. They looked directly at her but didn’t seem to see her clearly. He blinked slowly.

“Wh… what happened…?” 

Mori’s mind blanked. All that came out was a high-pitched, nervous squeak. “You-you-you’re dreaming! This is a dream! A very normal, not-real dream!”

The blush returned heating her entire face until she felt she might glow in the dark. Her words seemed to be the final straw for his concussed brain. Leon’s eyes rolled back, and he went perfectly limp once more, out cold.

“Right. Okay. It's not the time for kisses. Plan. Need a plan.” Molly jumped off the bed, pacing on the rubble-strewn carpet. “Can’t leave him here. Dad will literally eat him. Can’t give him to the guards… same problem. Even worse if my brothers and sisters' finds out!” 

She snapped her fingers. “I know! The human town! He lives there! I’ll just… drop him off.”

She knelt beside the bed, placing a hand on Leon’s shoulder. A complex, three-layered magic circle of teleportation flashed beneath them.

There was no sound, only a sudden, sucking vacuum. The destroyed bedroom stood empty.

-------------------

In a small, sun-dappled park in the human town of Rosendale, the air warped. A few pigeons scattered as Molly and the hero materialized on a wooden bench with a soft pop.

Molly staggered, the long-distance teleport on top of her emotional whirlwind leaving her dizzy. She gently propped Leon upright against the bench back. 

“Okay,” she whispered to herself, brushing dust off her sweater. “Mission accomplished. Hero returned. No one saw..."

She took a seat next to him. Her eyes drifted back to his face. To his lips.

"But… he’s right there. Sleeping like a prince from a novel. And it’s not like he’ll ever know. It’s a… a farewell gift! For me! From me! A little souvenir from the demon princess he’ll never remember. Just one. One proper, intentional kiss. Just… poof. A memory for my secret treasure box!

Okay, Molly. You can do this. You’ve practiced on your pillow a hundred times. Channel your inner romance heroine! It’s just a cute, stylish, see-you-later kiss! Think of it as… applying lip-gloss to his lips! With your lips! Wait! Do I even need to justify this to myself? I’m a demon. We take what we want."

She closed her eyes, puckered up, and leaned in.

And stopped a breath away.

"WAIT WHAT AM I DOING?!  What if he wakes up? ABORT! ABORT THE CUTE MISSION! Time to go before—”

A low groan.

Leon stirred. His head lolled to the side, his eyes struggling open. This time, awareness returned more steadily. He blinked, focusing on the greenery, the cobblestone path, the fountain… and then on the very attractive, very flustered-looking young woman sitting next to him.

Molly was caught mid-panic, one hand raised as if to snap her fingers for another teleport. She looked like a startled, glittery cat.

Leon slowly sat up straighter, wincing and touching the bump on his head. He looked at her, confusion writ large in his clear blue eyes. 

“I… apologize, I seem to be… disoriented. The last thing I remember is facing the Demon Lord. And now I am here. With... you. Did you… help me, miss?”

Molly stared. He didn’t know. He had no memory of the crash, the kiss, the blanket. He didn’t see her in the castle or sense her suppressed demonic aura. All he saw was a strangely dressed, blushing girl in a park.

 A giggle, born of sheer nervous hysteria, bubbled in her throat. She swallowed it down, her brain spinning. This was her chance. A clean slate. Not as the Demon Lord’s daughter, but just… Molly.

She took a deep breath, mustering a smile that she hoped looked friendly and not deranged.

“You, uh… you took a bad fall! I found you… near the park! You must have hit your head. I was just… making sure you were okay!”

 “I see. Thank you for your kindness. I am in your debt.” He tried to stand, swayed, and sat back down hard. “Ah. It seems I am not quite recovered.”

He looked up at her, and a small, embarrassed smile touched his lips. It was devastatingly handsome. “Might I ask the name of my guardian angel?”

Her heart performed a gymnastics routine it had no business knowing. The tingling, fizzy sensation where their magics quietly called to each other—light seeking dark, dark seeking light—hummed beneath her skin. It felt like promise. Like a secret only they shared.

She smiled back, cunning and sweet beneath the glitter and gloss.

“It’s Molly. And you are…?”