CHAPTER 8: PRINCE HURION DEVRAS, HEIR TO THE DEMON THRONE

When I opened my eyes, Shevaun was on top of me.

“…”

“…”

We stared at each other for quite a while, with no side willing to give to the other. Honestly, I had no idea why she ended up in that position with me, nor do I have any clue on what happened to me after I got out of the bath…or did I really get out?

“You passed out in the bathhouse, milord,” Shevaun seemed to have read my thoughts. “Good thing Her Highness the Princess Noir had already left when we remembered you’re still inside.”

“Oh…my apologies if I—” then I remembered, I was naked back then. And now, I’m fully clothed.

“If you want to ask if we saw it,” the chamberlain said with a straight, emotionless face. “Yes, we did. But rest assured, milord, it’s part of our duties as servants, and would soon forget it.”

Oh god…this is awkward! Please do forget about it! Purge it from your memories, if there’s that option.

“In any case, so you understand now, milord?”

“About Lady Noir and Prince Hurion?”

“I’m glad that you can pick up fast.”

Really, Shevaun. If you say you’re glad, at least flash a goddamn smile! “Why did you tell me about this?”

“Two things, milord,” the chamberlain sat beside the bed. “First, as a future reference for our culture. We demons give preferential treatment to males, because we believe that they are stronger than females. Although, there’s a growing faction in the Conclave that promotes the view that we ladies can also do what the opposite gender can.”

Similar to the traditional views of my old world, huh? “How about the second reason?”

“Well, you’re going to stay with us for a while. You need to be aware of some ‘unspoken rules’ about our mistress, and her alter-ego, ‘Prince Hurion Devras’. She doesn’t want you to know that you already learned about her secret. In fact, aside from us, her close servants, she doesn’t want anyone else to know of that matter…be it human or demon, or any other race.”

“But…in retrospect, the Lord Vitalis knew of this ruse,” I pointed out. “I can tell from his reactions, which—I thought—was strange back then.”

“Actually, Princess Noir is a bad keeper of secrets.”

I disagree. There were a lot of new things I learned about her only yesterday.

“Nearly all the demons who knew her are aware; it’s just that, they are all playing along, on the pain of death.”

“Err…seriously?” My hand instinctively went for my neck.

Shevaun shrugged, “Benefits of being the ruler of the most powerful clan in Cherflammen, yes?”

“Fair enough; I’ll remember it then.”

“Well, if it’s you, I think Her Highness wouldn’t have the gall to execute you,” the chamberlain revealed. “I’m sure you heard our conversation yesterday, right? That’s how much she—in your own terms—‘loves’ you.”

I could feel my cheeks turn warm. Nevertheless, I told Shevaun, “Her Highness is my precious student. No teacher—in his right mind—would dare to lay hands on his student. At least, I know some of my co-workers who eventually became the partner of their students…but it is when the student graduated from their school, see?”

“Technically, you’re not ‘student and teacher’ anymore,” the chamberlain countered. “And if I may be clear, Her Highness had long graduated our school—the Conclave—with outstanding honors, too.”

“Err…so you mean, her enrolling at our academy is…”

“She pretended to be a student to search for three people: our missing saint, Lady Natasha Bellingsen, the Devil of the Grey Parka, Sir Loin of Steak, and you…her ‘human friend’. The former two are in connection to the ‘Knights’ threat, and the third one is…well…for reasons.”

“What reasons?”

“I think it’s better if Her Highness would be the one to tell it to you, milord,” Shevaun replied. “If there’s one thing I’m sure of, it’s because she wants to connect with you.”

“Uh…are you sure she’s not rushing her decision? For us humans, your ‘connection’ is something we value, thus, we only do it with someone we love.”

“Do you love Her Highness?”

“Well, I love her, but as a student and a friend.”

“We don’t care about being a ‘student’ and a ‘friend’; I’ll ask you once again, milord, do you love her?”

“Err…” this is getting even more awkward. “Y-Yes…but—”

“Then connect with her.”

“No, I won’t. Don’t misunderstand my intentions, Lady Shevaun,” I reiterated. “Her Highness is my friend, and yes, I love her. But it’s not romantic! We humans have different beliefs!”

“You’re in Cherflammen, the realm of demons, so it doesn’t apply.”

“Haa…” I felt like this chamberlain would give me a hard time. I mean, yes, I’m a healthy, 25-year-old human male from another world. And yes, it would be stupid of me to deny that I do have those ‘urges’ from time to time…after all, this was a different place, so I could make my own rules. I also got the ‘money’ to live the way I wanted.

However, my character as a person won’t allow it. I never liked those isekai protagonists I read before that turned ‘predators’ the moment they were unleashed to a new world…sometimes even violating unwilling women. Like, hey, where’s your dignity as a human? Are these ‘other world’ people sexual objects to you? The last thing on my mind was to turn into the very ‘sexual predator’ I hated.

“…”

Sex was a human need, yes, but I think ‘intimate sexual relations’ were better and special, than those who engage in a free-for-all, rabid sexual activities. Call me a prude or self-righteous, I don’t care. I want my relationships to have the ‘TLC’—‘tender and loving care’.

“Hmm…Lord Greg, the more I talk to you, the more my respect grows,” Shevaun admitted. “However, my irritation is also increasing. Whatever do you require to connect with Her Highness?”

“I love someone else…”

“Yes, we know. You love the Human Saint.”

I couldn’t remember, but I guess ‘Kuro’ did.

“Also, her head maid, your private maid, the Queen of Amaranth, the captain of the Paladin Guards, the Beastman Saint, the Queen of Cherwind, the Falcon tribeswoman governor of the Avinus Isles, the Directress of Cherwind’s Royal Academy, the Chief Royal Doctor of Cherwind, the former First Admiral of the Navy of Cherwind, the Canus tribeswoman owner of the famous Royal Inn—”

“P-Please stop.”

Shevaun flashed a triumphant grin, “You think we didn’t do our assignments, milord?”

Kuro, whatever the fuck you did to gather so many ladies swooning for you? “Alright, I give up. See, my memories are really broken that even I am overwhelmed by the list you gave me.”

“On a second thought, our research did say that, though you’re in relationship with those girls, you haven’t connected to any of them.”

“I don’t know if I’m going to be impressed, or alarmed, with the information you just dropped. Do you also know what type of food ‘Kuro’ likes?” I asked with sarcasm.

“In fact, we do. He cooked a dish called ‘Adobo’ before, and our analysts say that a human won’t do something first if that isn’t what’s memorable to him.”

For goodness’ sake, did I just end up involved with an intelligence agency?

----------

And so, still at an impasse, my ‘first day’ in Darkmoor began. Shevaun informed me that ‘Prince Hurion Devras’ would arrive soon, or at least, pretend that ‘he’ arrived, and welcome ‘him’. She gave me a set of clothes, one that fits a nobleman…though if I could describe it, it’s actually a dress similar to the ones worn by 18th century Europeans. Bold colors, intricate laces, and lots of buttons; the only thing missing was the white wig.

“Please, I can wear this myself,” I told the chamberlain. She was about to do her ‘servant duties’ on me, but I prevented her from doing so, or the last vestiges of my dignity as a human would crumble.

“That won’t do, milord,” she countered. “How can I be sure that you wore it properly, when Chersean clothes are different?”

Well, Shevaun had her point. “Alright, at least, let me be the one to wear the underclothes.”

“Fair deal, milord.” Then she retreated behind the dressing room’s door.

Really…it’s only my ‘first day’, and I’m already tired of dealing with aristocratic bullshit. If this was what it meant to be a noble, then by all means, I’d rather stay as a commoner.

“Milord?”

“I’m not finished yet, Lady Shevaun!”

“No, it’s not that.”

“You need something else from me?”

“Well…uh, just in case I haven’t told you yet,” the chamberlain said behind the partially-closed door, “I personally wanted to thank you.”

“What for?”

“Her Highness, you see, she’s someone you’d call ‘different’.”

“You mean, a ‘weirdo’?”

“Ugh, I already used a different word!”

I chuckled, “My bad, please continue.”

“So yeah, my mistress…she’s ‘different’. The only daughter of a demon father and a human mother, she was an object of scorn before…especially by her ‘pure-blooded’ half-siblings.”

Judging from how their society works, it’s inevitable.

“And so, she grew up preferring to be alone. She’s always in the company of books, or newspapers, and as a result, Princess Noir got admitted to the Conclave at a very early age than average. It earned not only the praise of many, but also the envy of her half-brothers, who see her as a ‘nuisance’.”

“…”

“We all didn’t expect her to end up being the heir to the Demon Throne, milord.”

“But how did she end up there?”

“My mistress is always fascinated with the human world, as she didn’t see her mother—who died giving birth to her. She always wondered what Chersea looked like, for she rarely comes out of her room. Then, one time, Princess Noir gathered her courage, and went to the human realm, disguised as a demon merchant.”

“…”

“Her travels eventually brought her to a town called Fen, where a festival in honor of the Human Saint’s visit was being held. A tourney was also organized—the ‘Tri-Skill Tournament’, where powerful nobles around Chersea were invited. As she was going around the town plaza, selling her wares, she was subjected to the hate and discrimination by the common folk, and the nobles treated her like some oddity.”

This story is awfully familiar…

“When Princess Noir finally gave up and decided in her heart to return to Cherflammen, she saw a black-haired man on a bench. He was holding a demon weapon, and his face was utterly dejected. As it turns out, this man is a contestant of the ‘Tri-Skill Tournament’—the first commoner to fight in that tourney, yet no one sold him demon powder.”

“And that man is…”

“Yes, milord, that’s you…’Kuro’.”

“Oh…”

“You’re the only one who talked to her that time, though you mistook her for a male demon. Princess Noir told me countless times of the things you conversed about, and though it was not her interest, she did gain a lot of useful information from you, like how to properly deploy a crack horn—that’s how we call the demon weapon here—in an actual battle and such. But the most important thing is, she enjoyed your moments together. Because of you, her views about the relationships of humans and demons changed a lot…she wanted our races to get along.”

I felt like that scene really did happen. There’s a faint part in my memories that showed it was true.

“And because of that, our mistress became fixated on succeeding to the Demon Throne. It is originally given to one of her half-brothers, but because of your influence on her, she gained her determination to be the strongest demon lord in our history…for doing so will give her the right to change the culture and traditions of our land. And our saint, Lady Natasha Bellingsen, gave her full support on her dreams.”

So, it’s like, this is all my fault, then?

“But of course, some traditions are hard to kill,” Shevaun added. “The demon folk are having a difficult time accepting the fact that Princess Noir—a lady—can unite and lead them, so she created the persona of her ‘twin brother’, Prince Hurion Devras—the name she used to disguise herself—to silence the naysayers.”

“And your people readily accepted that?”

Shevaun nodded, “What’s strange about us demons is that, while there are certain parts of our tradition that is ‘off-limits’, we still keep an open-mind in other matters. They know that Princess Noir and Prince Hurion are the same person, but their pride of having a male lead them is satisfied, as long as Her Highness acted like His Highness.”

Reminds me of some Egyptian rulers of the ancient Earth. According to archaeologists, some of the pharaohs are women, and they purposefully changed their gender (at least in their statues and statuettes) to satisfy the long-standing traditions their people set.

Well, it’s a reasonable course of action, though I’d say it’s just a temporary solution to an age-old problem. See, what if the demons found an equally-powerful ruler to contest Princess Noir’s claims? As I could surmise, the traditionalists in their society would willingly throw their lots on this ‘rival’, for they’d believe that a ‘real’ male demon lord was better than a ‘fake’ one. Rebellions could erupt, conspiracies abound, and all the hard work Her Highness had built so far would come crashing down.

“…”

“Milord?”

“Yes, I’m still here. I’m just thinking of something, after listening to your story.”

“And that is?”

“I’m concerned of what will happen. Obviously, some factions in your society are just maintaining the balance; meaning, they’re only complying with you because they see no one else whom they can support. Now what if another demon noble rises—a male, let’s say. Don’t you think they’d throw their support on that rival at the first opportunity?”

“I have the same reservations too, milord. Nevertheless, just like the Demon Saint, I wanted to see the dreams of the child I raised turn into a beautiful reality.”

“I understand.”

“Thank you, milord…”

----------

A round of silence occurred between us after that. However, there’s this one thing in my mind that never went away after listening to Princess Noir’s story, “Lady Shevaun?”

“You need something, milord?”

“I’d say, if you want to change the system of your people, then change the way your education is being taught.”

“What do you mean, milord?”

“You have heard before that I’m a teacher of your old hero, Lady Cassandra David, right?”

“Yes…”

“I may not be an expert on this, but I’ve taught in schools back in my world long enough to acquire personal philosophies about how education should be imparted to our students. This is based from my experiences and observations, so it may not be necessarily valid,” I took a pause for a moment, gathering my thoughts. “You see, although it may sound questionable, schools are great ‘mind-conditioners’…meaning, if you want to bend someone’s mind to your liking, you can task the teachers to teach your view of the world.”

“Whoa…I never thought that schools can be seen that way.”

“Yes, I know it’s hard to believe, but my world has always romanticized schools in an edifying, ideal manner. However, in practice, it is like a well-oiled propaganda machine, supported by the people’s taxes and directed by the government they put in place. Now, I may have used negative words; nevertheless, schools are important in shaping the future of a nation. It is where minds are galvanized into doing the state’s goal.”

“So, what you’re saying is…”

“Yes, if you want to change how your people think, start in schools. Order the teachers to teach your views, your beliefs, and make the students see reason behind those opinions…even if you have to invent it sometimes. It is a slow, arduous process, but it’s a sure one, especially if you’re preparing for the future.”

“Milord?”

“Yes?”

“If ever, would you help us?”

“What do you mean?”

“Would you like to teach in the Conclave?”

I fell silent when that request was put up on me. I hadn’t thought of that possibility, since I view my stay here as somewhat temporary. Nevertheless, I guess it would take some time, and I never wanted to live off the finances of my benefactor. If ever, I’d like to look for a job as well.

“…”

Though, on the other hand, if Shevaun was thinking I could put into practice the words I told her just now, it’s an impossibility. No one could sway the people’s hearts and minds within a few weeks of teaching; it always takes time, tons of resources and effort from the persons involved in that undertaking.

That’s why there’s a saying that ‘If you want a brighter future, invest in education’.

“Milord?”

“I’ll do my best, but don’t expect much…”

“I’m aware, milord. Education is truly a long, continuous process, and I know that you don’t intend to stay in Cherflammen for long…after all, we only ‘borrowed’ you. It’s just that, if you teach in the Conclave—even for a short time, the seeds you’ll sow will remain there. And we demons can take from where you left.”

Well, Shevaun had made her point. I missed on what she intended for me to do: pass my ideas to the demons of the Conclave, and it’s up to them whether to nurture those concepts, or leave it to the pages of their history.

I guess I can do at least that much…

“Alright then,” I told her, “But, help me convince the prince.”

It became awfully silent on the other side of the dressing room door. I think Shevaun was pondering on what I said, and while she was in deep thoughts, I took the opportunity to finish putting on my underclothes.

And then, I heard the chamberlain say, “Now it makes sense…”

“What is, Lady Shevaun?”

“I finally understood the reasons behind Her Highness’ actions. Why she’s so fixated on you…”

“And that is?”

“I love how your mind works, Lord Greg,” Shevaun admitted. “You’re making me see the blind spots on what we used to believe. If you happen to die, I’d like to preserve your brain.”

“Ahahaha…that’s a good joke!” But really, I’m getting scared by her statements.

“No, really. Think of it as my way of complimenting your wisdom.”

“I think I’m okay with you not praising me…”

“We demons value new knowledge, or intriguing perspectives. Hearing your words would be impossible for us not to give compliments.”

“It’s okay…I’d rather—!!!”

I was about to say something else, but then, we heard the trumpets signaling the ‘arrival’ of the Prince’s convoy at the castle courtyard. Shevaun then quickly entered the dressing room—embarrassment be damned, and helped me put on the rest of my clothes.

----------

Prince Hurion Devras appeared at the courtyard of Castle Darkmoor in all his splendor. Smart-looking princely clothes, complete with medals and sashes. Shiny, military-style boots. A large, white mantle on his back. Disciplined lines of soldiers, armed with swords and matchlock guns, flanking his sides. And a battalion of maidservants following him…

Yeah…Princess Noir created an impressive display of power and glory, just for me…

A herald then announced, “Make way for His Infernal Highness, the Prince Hurion Devras IV, lord of Helfan, Fangborough and Darkmoor. Custodian of the Saint’s Tower. Lord Protector of Orcdwelt and Goblinhom. Ruler of all Cherflammen and its noble people!”

At that point, everyone in the courtyard bowed before their prince, including me, of course. I didn’t want to stand out, so I followed the servants’ cue. We remained in that position, until the prince came to where I was, and said,

“Please raise—ahem,” Prince Hurion quickly changed his voice to a ‘manly’ one, “Please raise your head, Lord Kuro—I-I mean, Lord Greg of Arles.”

Heh, I love your slip ups, Your Highness. Nevertheless, I did what she—I mean, he—told me, taking care not to let the Prince know I was already aware of his ruse.

“Thank you for having me, Your Highness,” I told him. “Your sister is a big help to me.”

“Yes, Noir is a reliable lady,” he replied, though there was a faint blush on his cheeks. “In fact, she’s so responsible and smart I’d want her to be my connection someday.”

Oi, aren’t you praising yourself too much already?

“Ahem, i-in any case, I hope you’re enjoying your time, milord?”

“Lady Shevaun is attentive to all my needs; I’m already getting embarrassed by the privilege.”

“Please don’t. Treat this place as your own home, Lord Greg.”

Even if you say that, I’m the type of person who prefers to be in his own place rather than stay at someone else’s.

“Ah, it’s been long since we last talked to each other,” the Prince put an arm behind my neck, just like long-time buddies do. Now that I noticed it, Princess Noir—I mean, Prince Hurion was considerably taller than me…perhaps she used a magic spell that made his body that way, for a more convincing disguise. His hair was also of golden-white shimmer, too. “I want to listen to your stories, Lord Greg! Will you like to grant me a little of your time?”

“Err…” my eyes quickly fell on Shevaun, who kept on gesturing at me to agree with whatever the prince was proposing. “Well, I’m good with it,” was my answer, though in all honesty, I had no idea of what story to tell him. After all, Princess Noir already heard it all; it’s kind of awkward to repeat the words I said before to a person who knew about it already.

I really wish Shevaun will pick up on my signs and make an alibi for me this time…

“Your Highness!” Perhaps the chamberlain read what was on my thoughts, that she stepped forward and said, “Before you get on your stories, I think the Lord Greg has something else to say first.”

“Hm?” Prince Hurion threw a glance at me, “What is it, Shevaun?”

“Well, the Lord Greg and I had a short chat earlier, just before you arrived, about the state of our education here in Cherflammen. As your sister may have had told you, the Lord Greg is Lady Cassandra David’s old mentor from her world, and he has a lot to say on the situation of the Conclave.”

“What do you mean, milord?” he turned to me.

“Lady Shevaun brought to my attention some societal issues you’re trying to solve, Your Highness,” I began. “However, after her story, I surmised that you’re fighting an uphill battle, unless you deal with the very roots of the problem.”

“The roots of the problem, you say?”

“Yes,” I nodded. “I’m talking about your system of education here.”

“The Conclave, huh?” Prince Hurion threw a doubtful stare at his chamberlain. “Well, before we get into that, how about we go to the reception room and have a nice tea?”

“That would be a great idea, Your Highness,” Shevaun bowed. “I’ll have the reception room prepared at once.”

----------

The Conclave. That name had been mentioned multiple times whenever we talked about education and schooling. At first, I thought it’s some kind of a ‘secret society’ within the demon realms. However, Prince Hurion explained to me that it was the institution of highest learning here in Cherflammen, similar to the functions of a university back on Earth. It was where the brightest scions of the demon clans were sent to study about…well, almost everything they could think of. A graduate of that place was held in high esteem, so much as the title of ‘Scholar’ was given upon their graduation.

“It was founded by the hero, Lady Cassandr David,” Prince Hurion added.

“Oh…sounds like a prestigious school, huh?”

“Yes, Sir—I mean, milord,” the prince nodded. “So, what is it that you wanted to talk to me about the Conclave, then?”

“I wanted to teach in that place, if it’s possible.”

Prince Hurion froze when he heard that proposal of mine. He was actually about to drink his tea, but he stopped halfway, as his eyes—wide in surprise—stared at me. Then he asked his chamberlain, “Shevaun?”

“Yes, Your Highness?”

“What did you tell the Lord Greg?”

“Nothing, Your Highness. Rather, it is milord who put up some great ideas that might interest you.”

“Lord Greg?” the prince’s attention turned back to me. “What does my chamberlain mean by that?”

“Well…” So, I told him all that Shevaun and I talked about their culture, traditions, and how education could remedy those problems. The demon prince listened to me the entire time, never taking his eyes off even just for a second. I didn’t know whether or not he managed to get all the things I said; but—unlike my old students on Earth, Prince Hurion Devras was really attentive.

When I finished my explanation, His Highness said, “Lord Greg, while I don’t doubt the plausibility of your proposals, I’m afraid I can’t help you with your request to teach in the Conclave.”

“What do you mean, Your Highness?” it was Shevaun who asked. It seemed that the chamberlain was more eager than me to enter the Conclave.

“You know how life is like inside that place,” the prince’s voice was returning to its normal ‘girly’ tone. I doubt that Prince Hurion noticed that, but I’d still pretend I didn’t notice the change. “As the Lord Greg’s friend, I won’t let him experience such a thing!”

“W-What?” I don’t think I like what I just heard.

The most powerful ruler of Cherflammen suddenly stood up, and lowered his head before me, much to my—and Shevaun’s—shock. Then he said, “My apologies about my chamberlain, milord! She tends to decide ahead of me; however, I cannot allow you to enter the Conclave…lest we all regret it in the end.”