Promise of Judgment

Whatever the Ancient's background was, he had the knowledge to tell a demon apart from a devil.

It was something that even Zhevra, herself, had trouble with... as the the bloodlines of her kin were largely diluted after so many generations. 

So regardless as to whether her respect was real or feigned, she decided to take on a servile role. She'd practiced it often, as people were generally easier to deal with when their egos were properly stoked. 

"Yes, Sovereign. I would ask the noble Sir to forgive my outward appearance. This humble one counts devils amongst her ancestors... though I know not their names."

Zhevra hid her widening smile, her eyes still directed to the ground. Her position allowed her mark an excellent view of her ample cleavage... enough for any hot-blooded man, Ancient or not, to go mad with lust.