“Isn’t it amazing that there’s a child in this belly?”

Rubellan asked.

Rael was leaning against the headboard, reading a book about prenatal education. Beside her, Rubellan lay with his head propped on his hand, gazing at her stomach before gently touching it.

“I think I’m more amazed than you are.”

“How does it feel? Can you sense anything?”

“It’s probably smaller than a bean right now. What could I possibly feel?”

When Rael frowned with raised eyebrows, Rubellan chuckled softly.

“Have you thought about names for the baby?”

“Isn’t it too early?”

Do people usually name their children while they’re still in the womb? Isn’t that typically done after birth? It felt absurd that she had no one to ask about these trivial matters.

“We should start with a prenatal nickname first.”

“Do you have something in mind?”

At Rubellan’s question, Rael’s eyes left the printed text. Come to think of it, she hadn’t given the baby inside her a name yet.

“…Well, it still seems premature.”

“Try coming up with something.”

Did he expect baby names to just appear out of thin air? It wasn’t long ago that she had struggled to name Kali.

“A name…”

A name was certainly necessary. However, giving a name would make the weight of responsibility for this life feel more real, making it difficult to decide lightly.

“What’s so difficult? Lucas, Logan, Liam, Eric, there are plenty of names.”

That comment made her want to smack him.

“Who named you?”

“My father did.”

She recalled hearing in the dining hall that Rubellan had killed his own father. Yet he continued using the name his father gave him, strange indeed.

“Were you close with your father?”

“Haha.”

Rubellan laughed loudly at Rael’s question, treating it like an amusing joke.

“I killed him.”

Surprisingly, Rubellan didn’t hide this sensitive topic. Rael was somewhat startled by his candid response.

“Well, it’s not the kind of impiety you might imagine. For demons, it’s a ritual with a different meaning.”

“A ritual?”

“Let’s say it’s the act of inheriting power completely.”

So to inherit power, one must kill the previous king?

She couldn’t understand such a barbaric method of succession. Then again, it made little sense for a human to comprehend demon physiology.

“…Weren’t you sad?”

She wasn’t sure why she asked this question. Perhaps she thought demons might have some affection for their parents, similar to humans.

“Why would I be sad?”

Rubellan’s face showed no trace of sorrow or shadow. He even seemed shameless, looking at her with confusion about why she would ask such a question. Rael stared down at him with an expression of incomprehension, wondering how such a being could exist. Rubellan, seemingly understanding her thoughts, smiled faintly.

“Not all beings are like humans. Being born and dying when the time comes, that might be a blessing in itself.”

“Are you saying your father wanted this?”

“At least having five children probably meant something like that.”

Having children means dividing power, and dividing power means losing immortality. Did that mean Rubellan’s father created children because he wanted to die?

“…Then, what about you?”

Suddenly, a thought occurred to her. When she reunited with Rubellan, he wanted a child. Later, she learned he was suffering from terrible pain. Perhaps Rubellan, like his father, wanted a child because he desired death.

“You wanted a child because you wanted to die.”

“Senior.”

Suddenly, everything seemed to fall into place. All the pieces were fitting together perfectly.

What if Rubellan was using her to create a child, intending for that child to eventually kill him?

“…So you used me.”

A wave of betrayal washed over her. But Rael quickly mocked this emotion.

Betrayal? Were she and Rubellan even close enough to feel such emotions toward each other? Doesn’t betrayal stem from some measure of goodwill?

Rubellan sat up. His large hand slipped away from Rael’s stomach.

“I’m asking if that was your purpose from the beginning.”

Rubellan remained silent at Rael’s sharp voice.

Rael was angry, truly, deeply angry. Her eyes reddened with frustration and indignation. He could have at least told her from the start, given her a hint that she had value only as a tool.

Perhaps she had instinctively sensed this truth all along, which was why she never fully let go of her suspicions toward Rubellan.

His hand slowly moved toward Rael’s face.

“Yes.”

At his answer, hot tears spilled down her cheeks. Rael couldn’t understand her own reaction. After constantly suspecting his ulterior motives, here she was, hurt by this trivial truth.

“Yes. That might have been why I sought you out.”

“You despicable creature.”

“Feel free to curse at me all you want.”

Rubellan’s hand wiped away the tears wetting her cheeks.

“But I hope you won’t misunderstand.”

“What more is there to misunderstand? The truth is already out.”

He was simply a demon trying to use her.

Rael believed everything about Rubellan was an act, his words, actions, everything designed to manipulate her.

“You could have captured another demon worshipper instead. Or chosen another demon. Why did you need me, bringing up our insignificant past connection?”

Her anger wouldn’t subside. Was it her fault for feeling sympathy? Was she enduring this miserable situation because of that meager goodwill?

“You’re thoroughly angry.”

Rael swatted Rubellan’s hand away and turned to the side. Her feet touched the floor. Though she wanted to storm out of the room, she felt she needed to say what was on her mind.

“Why don’t you drop the act now?”

Rubellan embraced her from behind. His face settled on her shoulder.

“I understand what you’re thinking, and I won’t say you’re mistaken. Those feelings weren’t entirely absent.”

“You should have said so from the beginning, instead of pretending at some pathetic imitation of love.”

“It couldn’t be just anyone.”

Rubellan stretched out his hand, trailing it from Rael’s elbow down to her wrist.

“Only you can kill me.”

“Nonsense.”

“And only you could save me.”

“Why on earth…”

Rael couldn’t understand Rubellan’s words or actions. She had no shred of trust in him, suspecting that everything he said now might also be lies.

“Is it too ridiculous for a demon to seek salvation from a human?”

Rubellan brought Rael’s hand to his lips, stopping just short of touching her skin.

“In one spring, I wished for your happiness. In one summer, I hoped you would remember me. In one winter, I think I felt a little sad. And when spring returned, life was tedious. To the point where I thought it would be better to stop my heart if I couldn’t bring warmth back into it.”

Rubellan continued speaking slowly while caressing the tender flesh inside her wrist.

“So I thought it would be good to see you one more time. At least once before dying.”

Does everyone with the fate of choosing their death become this deranged?

“But the moment I faced you again, my colorless seasons became vibrant once more. I realized I needed you. I became convinced that I wanted you to be the one who either saves me or kills me.”

This is sorcery. Wordplay. A demon’s trick.

“So… if you won’t let me live, at least kill me. Senior.”

Why? Why did this demon’s voice sound drenched in sadness?

Rael turned her head to the side. Rubellan’s black hair was disheveled, and beneath it, his red lips were visible.

“My Rael.”

The truly damnable thing was that in this moment, she felt more compassion than anger toward Rubellan.

An emotion, whether anger or sadness, she couldn’t tell, filled her. Through her blurred, tear-soaked vision, she thought she glimpsed Rubellan’s sad smile.

* * *

Rain poured over the Demon King’s Castle for a while. It came down so heavily that one might mistake the sky for having burst open, drenching everything throughout the day. This blurred Rael’s sense of time and dampened her mood considerably.

They say rain makes people melancholy. Normally, Rael would have appreciated the sound of rain and enjoyed its ambiance, but after experiencing days of downpour so heavy that she couldn’t even see outside the window, she was thoroughly sick of it.

“The downpour has finally stopped.”

At last, today the rain ceased. The sky was brilliantly clear, decorating the window like a painting, with no trace of the previous downpour.

“That was some insufferable rain.”

“I was worried the castle might start growing mold.”

Aware of Rael’s poor mood over the past few days, Esh deliberately made a joke to lighten the atmosphere.

“I think we might need a thorough cleaning. Who handles the cleaning around here?”

“Magic?”

Esh answered with an expression that suggested the question was obvious. Rael nodded, not having expected these demons to clean by hand either.

“I’ve been so inactive lately that my body feels stiff. Let’s clean together.”

“What?”

Esh realized that Rael’s suggestion wasn’t about using magic to quickly tidy up. Was she joking?

“There’s nothing better than cleaning when your mind is cluttered.”

Rael gathered her hair with both hands and tied it with a string. Her silky hair rippled as it came together.

“Shall we start by dusting?”

Esh finally realized that Rael wasn’t joking.

“Cleaning the castle by hand won’t be easy. Won’t it be too much strain on your body?”

“I’ve heard moderate movement is healthier.”

Long ago, she had heard village grandmothers giving this advice to newly married women who became pregnant.

“Let’s do it. Let’s clean.”

Esh moistened her dry lips. Who would have thought that after hundreds of years of demon life, she’d be cleaning with her own hands?