Chapter 352: The Demon Who Got Lost (And the King Who Made Sure He Did)

Elyn’s POV

Zorathys immediately looked everywhere except at me.

His gaze drifted to the ceiling, then to the floor, then to the shadows curling around his feet. He studied them with the kind of intense focus one might reserve for a life-or-death situation, and he absolutely refused to meet my eyes.

"Don’t even think of lying," I said calmly.

"I wasn’t going to lie," he said immediately.

"You were."

"I wasn’t."

"You were looking at the ceiling."

"The ceiling is interesting."

"The ceiling is not interesting."

"It has texture. It has character. It tells a story."

I stared at him.

"Zorathys."

"Hm?"

"Look at me."

He slowly turned his head toward me. His ruby eyes met mine for the briefest moment before drifting away again.

"Dracolthar was with us when we met Draeven in the castle," I said.

Zorathys opened his mouth to respond, but before he could, Retheris spoke up from across the table.

"That’s true," he said, with the helpful energy of someone who had not yet read the room. "I’d forgotten about it, but there was someone else with us. The big one with the four eyes. The one who kept talking about how beautiful the Queen was."

The moment the words left his mouth, Zorathys looked at him.

It was the kind of look that could have frozen lava.

Retheris’s eyes went wide. His hand flew to his mouth and he mimed zipping his lips shut. He even threw away an imaginary key, his expression the picture of someone who had realised, approximately one sentence too late, that they had said something they really shouldn’t have.

The rest of the table had gone very quiet.

Azerion was pretending to be extremely interested in feeding Veylthar which honestly he wasn’t even doing seeing as he was eating the food himself.

Zayrion had adjusted his glasses and was looking at nothing in particular.

Thalira and Brixton had stopped their argument about borrowed food and were now sitting very still.

Velira was the only one still looking around with open curiosity, which was simply Velira being Velira and having absolutely no survival instincts in the presence of a dangerous situation.

I turned back to Zorathys.

Before I could speak, footsteps approached the table.

I knew who it was before he sat down. Don’t ask me how. I just did.

Dracolthar slid into the seat beside Zorathys, his four eyes blinking happily, his two tails swaying behind him like a pair of excited puppies. His expression was cheerful. His posture was relaxed. He looked like he had just returned from a pleasant stroll rather than having been missing for several hours.

"I finally found you," he said brightly.

I paused.

Then I turned to him.

"Where were you?" I asked.

Dracolthar opened his mouth to answer.

Then he closed it.

His four eyes flicked toward Zorathys.

"Look at me," I said, calm and firm. "And if you even think of lying, I will make sure every being in this realm hunts you down. Every single one. I will not rest."

Dracolthar swallowed.

Then swallowed again.

Then, in one breath — "Igotlost."

I knew a lie by the speed of it. That was the fastest sentence I had heard all day.

"You got lost," I repeated.

"Yes," he said, nodding with great enthusiasm.

"Is that true," I asked, "or did someone make sure you got lost?"

Dracolthar’s four eyes shifted almost imperceptibly toward Zorathys.

"I’m the one speaking to you," I said. "Not Zorathys."

Dracolthar blinked rapidly with all four eyes, which was its own specific kind of unsettling.

"I really got lost," he said. "I was following the shadows and then I wasn’t. One moment I was there and the next I was somewhere else entirely. It was very confusing."

"Are you asking me?" I said.

"No," he shook his head. "I really got lost."

Across the table, Azerion had abandoned all pretense of feeding Veylthar and was now watching Dracolthar with open suspicion. Not because he cared particularly about Dracolthar, I suspected, but because he had spent enough time around liars — himself included — to recognize one mid-performance.

Zayrion was also watching. Quietly. The way he watched everything — without appearing to watch, but missing absolutely nothing.

Retheris had not moved since the look from Zorathys. He was still sitting with his imaginary key thrown away and his lips pressed together, and I had a feeling he was going to be very careful about what he said for the rest of the meal.

"Firefly—" Zorathys started.

"Shut up," I said.

Zorathys shut up.

He picked up his glass of wine — the earthy colour of sand and water mixed together — and took a sip. His eyes fixed on the glass. He didn’t say another word.

I turned back to Dracolthar.

"How is it possible," I asked slowly, "that you got lost when Zorathys teleported all of us? He simply left you behind."

Dracolthar opened his mouth. Closed it. Opened it again.

"I don’t know," he said finally.

I turned to Zorathys.

"Did you leave him behind?" I asked.

Zorathys held my gaze for a long moment, and I thought he was going to lie to me.

Then he nodded.

"Why?" I asked.

His expression settled into that familiar lazy drawl. He set his glass down and leaned back, shadows curling around him.

"He’s a nuisance," he said. "He was supposed to go back already, but he stays because he’s obsessed with you."

Dracolthar immediately spoke up.

"I’m not obsessed," he said. "I just like her. She’s scary. She’s beautiful. She’s demon-like. She’s queen-like. She’s everything a queen should be. She’s—"

Zorathys turned to look at him.

Dracolthar shut up immediately and completely.

I stared at Zorathys.

"You left him behind because he likes me?" I asked.

Zorathys grumbled something under his breath.

"Everyone likes you," he said.

"I’m likeable," I said.

Zorathys rolled his eyes.

Then he stood up.

"We’re leaving," he announced. "I’m tired."

I frowned at him.

For someone who was always tired, this particular tired felt different. It had an edge to it.

"What?" I asked.