A Secretary’s Sorrow

[Lady Fiana POV]

[In the near future...]

It had been five days since our week-long conversation had ceased.

He had left the room long ago, after having an in-depth discussion about "our" plans moving forward. I was his new confidant—his "secretary," to be more specific, according to the title he gave me in earnest—after leaving me to clean up the first of his messes.

We had discussed many things, and in those discussions, I had learned a great deal, both about this "man" and about his "gifts."

He refused to speak of his past, and he refused to speak of his future, focusing solely on the present: on how things would go, on what he wanted to accomplish.

And, boy, did he have a lot to say.

He acted more like a merchant than any king I had ever met, speaking of his "offer," about conducting "business." Contrary to my expectations, he was perhaps the most reasonable and sensible man I had ever had the pleasure of conversing with.

He wasn't a warlord like I had expected from Azuleth's description, nor the demon the Vice-Captain painted him to be. Instead, he was just a man who wanted certain things, things he knew we would provide in return for his gifts.

It was simple, really, aided by the fact that he was a tried and true merchant, "selling" the greatest treasure that had ever been seen in the Kingdom of Alvakia—more valuable than any that surely lay within the Royal Vaults.

Himself.

A genius merchant in every sense of the word. But if that's all he was, I wouldn't be in the wretched state I am now.

'It's a joke.'

Now, with a more in-depth understanding of his strength, I fully grasped that it wasn't us playing the game. This man was playing "house," watching to see what decisions we would make.

'He could have easily made a name for himself, caused unfathomable destruction. He could have gained immense wealth, reputation, status, power by countless other means if he were vain, or just wanted to 'see the world burn'.'

Instead, he walked right up to the highest echelons of the upper class and marketed himself as a priceless "product," cutting to the chase. Of course, no one else in his position would have been stupid enough to do such a thing without being absolutely certain of his ability to face the consequences of his actions.

'No—he couldn't care less about the consequences. What does it matter to gods if a bunch of ants get greedy for their throne? It's not as if they could ever reach the sky.'

Mere language could not describe our meeting—everything I had learned, everything I had surmised, everything he had graciously shown me.

Even now, I could hardly stop myself from trembling.

"How was it?"

A soft voice cut through the air, indifferent to my state. It had no time for remorse, or for pity, or sympathy—only filled with demand.

Had it been anyone else, they would have waited for me to settle down. But the number of people who could see through my constrained demeanor was just as few as those who would disregard my lack of peace.

I raised my head from the plethora of papers stacked upon my desk, only to be met with eyes burning bright, red with desire.

'She's mad.'

Standing before me was the visage of a queen—or at least, I hoped—for all I could see was a woman enraged. Her hair was a mess, her imperial crown surely having been dislodged in her haste to reach this room after hearing the meeting had ended.

"Fiana," her coarse voice was devoid of any novelty, order, or reason. "Would you really ignore the Queen's mandate?"

'Queen? She's calling herself the Queen now HUH? HA! Don't make me laugh.'

It had been thoroughly discussed before the meeting with that man that we would reconvene in the throne room as soon as the meeting concluded, so that we could plan ahead. After all, it was only fair, as any game needed its players to start on even footing.

Looking at her glowing eyes, it was clear my old friend had not taken my betrayal lightly. While she had so generously given up everything about this man—when she could have kept him a secret and played with him herself—I had instead acted as if I had slapped her in the face.

Instead of making my way to the throne room, I had thought it prudent to stay put and use the legendary Round Table, famous from the Kingdom's foundation as the very table that had seen the nation's birth, as my office desk to begin my work.

'If I wasn't crazy before, I sure as hell am now!'

"I can't play right now, Azuleth," I spoke quickly, not allowing her to distract me from my work, instead gliding my hand to pick up another document that being had written for me.

Had anyone else witnessed this display, they would have screamed "traitor" and charged me with treason for being disrespectful to Her Majesty, the Queen. I was sure even my father would have nearly collapsed from a heart attack at the sight.

'Who am I kidding? He'd probably be racking his brain, trying to figure out why I'm acting like this.' My mind wandered, thinking of my father, and in turn, the estate, my title, my responsibilities... all those things that were more important to me than life, the things that preoccupied my entire time

—

'STOP IT, FIANA, AND GET BACK TO WORK!' My mind screamed at me to refocus, lest I waste another moment.

Work, work, so much work... Even as a Duke's daughter, I had never been this busy in my entire life.

"Work, work..." It was as if a little voice was whispering in my ear, telling me to keep working. For if I stopped, if I took a moment to rationalize the situation, I was sure my mind would collapse.

"Work, Fiana. Work!"

However, my current mindset of escaping the situation by pretending everything was normal was met by a queen-shaped roadblock from the start. Still, I had to push forward.

"Just keep working, everything's alright..." The little voice provided comfort. "Everything's normal, everything's fine... Forget that you are no longer a Duchess, but basically the secretary of a Demon Lord. So what if a being of incomprehensible knowledge and strength made you his ringleader and gave you the authority to 'fit him' into this country? You can think about all of that when you're not busy... Shh... Don't let your mind wander... Shh... So what if you haven't slept in days? So what if the very fate of this country hangs upon your shoulders? So what if you can basically have anything you want once all this work is over... Is thinking about all of that going to get the work done?"

I wanted to cry.

I paid no heed, neither to the woman staring daggers into my soul, nor to the teardrops threatening to fall from the corners of my eyes.

"Irrelevant, Fiana. It's all irrelevant. Just do what he said and you'll be free in no tim—ah, and here comes the sword..."

My mind barely registered what was happening before I realized the Queen had ordered her loyal Excalibur and was about to chop off my head in frustration at my insubordination. The edge of the blade was but a hair's breadth from cleaving my neck when she stopped.

'Why did you stop?'

Death would be a gift, a release from this accursed fate. Having to maneuver the addition of a nation-level asset with all that he offered... just digesting all the information was causing my mind to weep in pain, much less trying to come up with a suitable "plan" for the future.

'Forget talking with Azuleth about her 'responsibilities' that she also dumped onto me. First, I need to figure out what the hell I'm even supposed to do!'

Another thought I was desperately trying to avoid: the fact that I had essentially been placed as the Queen by Azuleth, in every sense of the word except for the title itself. She had given me the Royal Seal, with the power to turn any scrap of paper into a Royal Decree as if it were nothing more than a child's toy, and had passed off her share of the work just as easily as she had passed off her affections to her beloved.

My not-cleaved head dropped into my hands as I used my fingers to try and soothe the searing migraine overtaking me. I had never felt a headache this severe, not even in the Academy when I was studying for my final examinations. They were worlds apart. In fact, I would give my left arm to return to those days.

'Forget a measly arm. How about a leg—no, take my entire body. Just get me the hell out of this room!'

'Work, Fiana. Work... goooood... Work....keep working..goooood.' Although it was my imagination in the first place, I couldn't help but think the voice was growing more sinister, taking pleasure in my pain.

"Azuleth, I will talk with you later! Right now, I'm busy!" I screamed at her with a frustration that would normally never see the light of day, much less directed at the Queen herself. Sure, Azuleth had always sensed this side of me since we were young, with her madness, but this was the first time I had been pushed far enough to let it slip.

It was liberating.

"Either kill me or bug off. I don't have time for your shit, Azuleth." My friend stared at me wide-eyed as she slowly sheathed her sword. However, I continued. "I'm busy trying to make sure this Kingdom stays afloat."

"Don't mind me, I'm just managing the start of a whole new era for the Kingdom. On one hand, I have a being with God-like knowledge offering treasures I still haven't fully grasped the ramifications of, much less understood their use. On the other hand, I have an annoying Queen whose responsibility all of this should be, but who's off enjoying herself, frolicking around in her pretty little dress, with her pretty little crown, too preoccupied with her first love to think about the reality of the situation."

Let's just say the past few days had not been a vacation—at least, not for me.

'Goddamn it, things would have been so much easier if you'd just started a rampage or become the King! Why the FUCK did you have to be so civil?'

Shouldn't Demon Kings be all badass and start killing people out of nowhere instead of just... training? Why then have you stayed locked in that crazy room? Is that your castle? At least kidnap the princess and take her with you.

"Just what the hell are you doing in there with all that stuff—ah, can't think about that—"

'Work, Fiana, work!'

The sound of Excalibur sliding into its sheath echoed through the room, filling the silence that followed my outburst. Azuleth's eyes never left me, narrowing as if she were trying to see something behind the mask of my frustration, behind my frantic desperation to keep myself from spiraling into madness.

For a moment, I thought she would draw her blade again. But instead, she spoke, her voice calm, though the fury still simmered beneath.

"You've changed, Fiana." Her tone was cold, cutting in a way only Azuleth could manage. "You're different now. Not the girl I knew."

I barely managed to contain my laugh. Different? How could I not be?

"You're damn right, I've changed!" I spat, slamming the paper I had been holding onto the table. The reverberating smack felt like a release of some of the pressure crushing me. "You'd change too if you had to deal with him! You think I wanted this?" My voice wavered for a moment before I steadied myself, forcing a deep breath. "You think I wanted to become some..secretary for a demon who's too lazy to destroy the Kingdom he can easily rule so he send's me in to clean up his mess?!"

She took a step closer, her eyes never leaving mine, measuring me. Azuleth always measured people, always calculated. She never acted without purpose. It was unnerving. Her madness was the calm kind, the kind that let her move freely while others drowned.

"I had dreams Azuleth, DREAMS!" I was telling the truth, I had dreams. Aspriations. Of inheriting my father's title, of leading the family name to prosperity like never before.

All of them were fulfilled the second I finished my conversation with that 'thing'."

And all of them turned useless soon after, for I learned of their true insignifance in the face of a much greater 'prize'.

"And yet," she continued, her voice soft but laced with poison, "you're still sitting here, scribbling like his little clerk. Why haven't you done anything about it, Fiana?"

Her words were like knives, each syllable carving into me. I wanted to lash out, to scream at her for not understanding. But I knew better. Azuleth understood far more than she let on.

The silence stung the air.

Azuleth's lips twisted into a small, humorless smile. "So, you're going to just wait for him to hand you a leash?"

Something inside me snapped, and before I could stop myself, I stood, knocking the chair backward. Papers flew off the table as I faced her, my fists clenched so tightly my nails dug into my palms.

"I don't need a leash!" I shouted aloud. "I'm trying to figure out how to survive this! FUCK OFF! SHOO! Why don't you try a new hairstyle? I'm sooooo sure THAT'LL be the thing that makes him like you!" My sarcasm was blatant, but the Queen had gone mad—scratch that—the Queen had gone mad again, as if once hadn't been enough.

As if I had just given her groundbreaking advice, she hurried off in her puffed-up dress, not even noticing that the Imperial Crown—the very symbol of the nation—had slipped from her head and clattered onto the ground in her rush to return to her chambers and change.

The crown rolled along the floor, tumbling until it finally stopped at my feet, its journey complete.

'How fitting.' I couldn't help but think those words, but before I could dwell on them, another set of thoughts plagued my mind, and at last, the dam burst. Silent tears leaked from my eyes.

'Work, Fiana, work!'