Why You Should Never Rescue Stray Demons Chapter 107

**KACIA**

After Kaspar Haymish storms off in a flurry of green and gold, robes flapping like an offended peacock. I keep my smile fixed until he vanishes into the crowd, then finally let myself exhale.

“Well, that could have gone worse.” I murmur under my breath. Oz chuckles low beside me, but before I can enjoy it, another figure detaches herself from the onlookers. A woman this time, tal l and elegant, with silver hair woven into a crown braid. Her gown is deep violet trimmed with fur, and every step she takes is measured, graceful without effort. Where Kaspar had been smug and pompous, she radiates refinement. The kind that doesn’t need to work so hard to get the respect and awe he was clearly craving. When she reaches us, she dips into a perfectly executed curtsey. 

“Lady Hunter.” She greets warmly, voice smooth as honey. 

“And Ozraed Faerwald. A demon, what a rare delight.” She adds. Unlike Kaspar, she sounds genuinely polite, but there’s calculation glinting in her eyes.

“You’re far more convincing than the last one.” I reply, matching her smile with one of my own. 

“I might almost believe you’re actually happy to meet me. At the very least you aren’t insulting.” I point out. Her lips curve faintly. 

“Politeness costs me little, and it often buys much. I am Lura Mirath, second cousin to Lord Eryn. I am here today as his representative”. She explains. 

“I suspect that you are more than just his eyes and ears.” I respond, unsure if I mean it as an observation or a compliment. She can take it however she likes. Her eyes narrow slightly, assessing me, but her smile is genuine. 

“I can imagine tonight is not an easy one for you.” She comments, almost sympathetically. I shrug. 

“Easy is boring.” I answer lightly, folding my hands in front of me. 

“Besides, from what I hear, these parties are just opportunities for scheming. And I’ve always liked puzzles.” I say jokingly. I’m not sure if that’s true though. Riddles maybe, but actual puzzles? I’m more likely to rip all the little colourful squares of a rubix cube and stick them on again than I am to actually put in the time and effort to solve it. But hey, the end result is still the same. Right? Her interest sharpens. 

“A puzzle, you say? Then tell me, Lady Hunter… What sort of piece are you? Do you belong in a corner, along the edge, or are you a centerpiece?” She asks. I give a small shrug. 

“That depends on who’s trying to solve me.” I answer. I’m aiming to sound confident and maybe a little mysterious. So mysterious that even I’m not really sure what my answer means! But she doesn’t have to know that. Her laugh is soft, but her gaze pierces deeper. 

“Mm. And what puzzle do you think we’re playing tonight? Is it one of alliances? Of survival?” She leans in slightly, lowering her voice. 

“Or perhaps something larger. Power shifting from one hand to another. An heir standing where her predecessor refuses to stand. Such puzzles can reshape the entire board.” She says, her tone filled with meaning. Ah. There it is. She’s probing, testing if I want to overthrow my grandfather. Honestly, I’d be happy enough if he just left me alone. Still, I let my smile sharpen. 

“I don’t think it matters particularly what the game is. I’m more concerned about making sure no one else plays for me.” I inform her. Her smile grows.

“And if the board is rigged?” She asks, her eyebrow raised. 

“Well, then maybe the smartest move is tossing the board entirely.” I answer, tilting my head, letting the words fall like a challenge. Her brows rise even further, and for a moment her lips part in surprise. Then she smiles, sharper now, like I’ve just given her something unexpected and intriguing. Eventually, she dips her head with graceful finality. 

“Quick minds and stubborn wills survive here. I’ll enjoy watching what you do next, Kacia Hunter.” She says, her tone warm, With that, she glides away, her gown trailing behind her. I exhale, pulse thudding. That had been dangerous. Subtle, but dangerous. And I don’t know if my answer bought me breathing room, or painted a bigger target on my back. With my luck, probably the latter. Oz leans down, his voice low and rough in my ear.

“Round two, also yours.” He says confidently. 

“Let’s just hope I don’t flip the whole table too soon.” I say, a shaky smile tugging at my lips. 

My feet are already aching, and we’ve only been in here for what, half an hour? My head still throbs from the portal, my body is heavy with exhaustion, and I can’t stop thinking about how much I’d kill for a cup of coffee. Just one. Strong, black, scalding hot. But of course, this is Faerie. The tables here are stacked with glittering goblets, bowls of jeweled fruits, delicate pastries that shimmer faintly with some kind of unknown magic. All beautiful. None of it is useful. Remind me to talk to Raylah about giving notice before kidnapping me from my bed. I need more sleep than I got for sure. Oz and I drift toward a table of food, his hand brushes against mine every few steps like he’s reminding me he’s there. I would complain that he’s hovering except that I don’t mind at all. There’s a definite confidence boost from having him at my side. I find a plate piled with something that looks sugary. Glossy little confections rolled in powdered gold. They’re probably not poisonous. At this point, I don’t care. Maybe sugar will do something for this damn headache. I take one and bite. Sweet. Too sweet. But better than nothing at least.

“That’s disappointing.,” I comment to Oz under my breath. 

“Not even a pot of tea. Let alone coffee.” I complain. Oz huffs, a small smirk twitching at his mouth. 

“Guess the fae don’t survive on caffeine.” He observes. I fight the urge to groan. 

“They must be monsters.” I sigh dramatically, nibbling another of the sugar bombs. My mouth now feels almost gritty with the amount of sugar I’ve just had, but hopefully it helps keep me going for however long I have to be here. Before Oz can reply, two figures approach. Siblings, judging by their near identical faces and deep green hair. The woman looks serene, her gown a simple but lush green that seems modest compared to the glittering excess around us. The man smiles broadly, his attire neat but understated, dark green with silver accents. They both bow politely, the gesture less stiff than Kaspar’s peacock display but not nearly as refined as Lura’s practiced curtsey. The woman speaks first. 

“Lady Hunter, Faerwald. I am pleased to meet you both.” She says politely. Her brother steps forward. 

“Truly an honor.” He says warmly, almost shyly. 

“I am Cyrus Poe and this is my sister Anette. We’re not from a family of great importance compared to most in this room. Nothing like… Well…” He gestures vaguely toward the crowd, where jewels and silks dazzle under the enchanted lights. 

“But still, it means much to stand here and meet the heir of Alhwin herself.” He says, his tone filled with… Awe? I blink, caught off guard by the warm welcome and the self-depreciating behaviour. Compared to Kaspar’s arrogance, it’s almost… Refreshing. I smile politely. 

“Well, you’re here, aren’t you? That means you matter more than you give yourself credit for.” I answer. The woman dips her head with gratitude, but her brother lingers, his gaze fixed on me with something more intent. 

“Still, it likely takes great courage, walking into this room knowing all eyes are on you. And you carry yourself well, Lady Hunter. With grace. With strength. It’s… Inspiring.” He says, voice smooth. I keep my smile in place, though it feels tight at the edges. 

“That’s kind of you to say.” I answer, trying to hide my awkwardness. 

“And your dress… Exquisite. But then again, I imagine you’d make anything exquisite.” Cyrus adds, his eyes sliding over me a little too appreciatively. Heat creeps up my neck, and I force myself to chuckle softly, trying to keep it polite. 

“You flatter me.” I answer. He doesn’t stop. 

“It’s not flattery. Simply the truth. Anyone can see it.” He immediately responds. Beside me, Oz stiffens. His tail twitches once, sharply, before curling tight against his leg. His jaw is set, and though he doesn’t say a word, the air around him suddenly feels sharper. Darker. I resist the urge to elbow him in the ribs. Eventually, Anette nudges her brother gently, clearly aware of his attention to me, and far more aware of Oz’s glare than he is. 

“We should let them enjoy the evening.” She says softly. With another bow, they drift away into the crowd. I let out a slow breath, setting down my half-eaten sugary confection. 

“Well. That was… Nice.” I comment. At least I know the compliments were genuine. Fae can’t lie. 

“Nice?” Oz’s voice is low, incredulous. 

“He was practically drooling. That wasn’t nice, that was… Fishing.” He says, sounding irritated. I glance up at him, amused despite myself. 

“Fishing?” I echo. 

“Trying to get in early.” He mutters darkly. 

“In case you actually DO overthrow your grandfather. If you end up on top, he can claim he was the first to show his support. Or worse, first to try and charm his way into your favour.” Oz’s mouth twists. 

“Probably thinks he can flirt his way into power.” He grumbles. I raise an eyebrow. 

“Well, I think he’s pretty harmless. And it costs me nothing to be polite.” I decide. Oz snorts. 

“Harmless? You’ve got too much faith in fae motives.” He says, still cranky. I smirk, nudging his arm. 

“Or maybe you’re just jealous.” I prod him. Oz growls low in his chest, but doesn’t deny it. And that, more than anything else tonight, makes me smile.