Chapter 1: I Became the Demon Queen’s Husband

ASHARA – THE WALK

The sun was warm above the human plains, casting golden light across a quiet stretch of countryside. A light breeze stirred the grass. Birds chirped. Peace reigned.

It was, objectively, a perfect day for a walk.

Which made it extremely inconvenient for anyone who ran into Ashara Velnis—Demon Queen of Ashenfall, Empress of the Infernal Legions, and the most dangerous woman alive.

She wandered a backroad in disguise, her horns concealed beneath a hood, her long cloak trailing behind her. No guards. No entourage. No real plan.

Just boredom.

She sighed. “Another perfect day,” she muttered, utterly unimpressed.

Then she spotted a group of bandits harassing a merchant’s cart up ahead.

Her steps slowed. The leader pointed at her and barked a laugh. “Look at this one. Out for a stroll? You lost, sweetheart?”

Ashara raised a brow. “...You interrupted my thinking time.”

A heartbeat later, they become burned corpses. The merchant had long since fainted. A nearby tree burned gently in the breeze.

She dusted off her boots, found a grassy hill, and laid down beneath a tree.

She was a heavy sleeper. It wouldn’t take long.

CAEL – THE DISCOVERY

The bodies caught his attention first.

Cael had just finished picking up herbs and a fresh loaf of bread from the village market. His long robe trailed in the dust as he whistled an off-key tune, basket swinging on one arm.

Then he almost tripped over a smoldering corpse.

He froze. Blinked.

More bodies littered the roadside, burnt, broken, and somehow smote. The air smelled like ozone and regret.

“Oh gods, oh wow, someone really did a number on you guys…”

And then he saw her.

A woman, asleep under a tree, her silver-blonde hair falling over her eyes. She looked completely unharmed. Her skin glowed faintly. Her cloak fluttered in the breeze.

She was, in a word, gorgeous.

Did she do all this? he thought. Wait, did someone save her?

Then:

Wait, is she single?

Then:

Wait no Cael don’t be weird she’s unconscious what’s wrong with you—

He took a breath. “O-okay. Think. If she’s hurt, I can’t leave her here.”

He knelt beside her and cast a warmth spell—one of the only spells he could do reliably. Her breathing steadied. She didn’t stir.

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He hesitated. Then, muttering apologies, carefully gathered her into his arms and began the long walk back to his cottage.

ASHARA – THE COTTAGE

Ashara woke slowly, to the smell of something… pleasant.

Stew?

Her eyes opened. She was in a small stone cottage, wrapped in thick blankets. A fire crackled nearby. There were no chains. No magical bindings. No demonic attendants.

Just silence. Peace. And food?

She blinked. Then noticed the note on the bedside table:

“You were asleep near scary corpses. I hope you’re alright. I’ll bring tea in a minute. – Cael”

She stared at it for a long moment.

The door opened.

“Ah! You’re awake!”

The man from before walked in, balancing a steaming bowl of stew and looking nervous but friendly. His hair was messy, his robes frayed, and his smile warm.

“You were unconscious near burned bodies,” he said. “So I brought you back here. Hope that’s okay? I mean, I didn’t kidnap you, technically. Just a rescue. With soup.”

He paused, sheepishly.

“I’m Cael, by the way. Just a regular mage. Kind of. I mean, I do more cleaning magic than explosions, so…”

He was rambling. He always did that when nervous.

She stared at him.

No groveling. No fear. No suspicion. Just a man doing something kind, without knowing who, or what, she was.

She reached for the stew. Ate slowly. Then put the bowl down and spoke, completely serious:

“You’ll be my husband.”

Cael blinked.

“Wh…I…hold on, what?”

“You’re caring. You fed me. You talk too much, but I like your face. I’ve decided.”

“You’ve decided what?!”

“You’ll marry me.”

He stood up, panic rising. “Th-that’s not how marriage works!”

“It is now.”

And with that, she stood, tossed her cloak aside, and lifted him with one arm.

“Come. We have a castle to return to.”

“Wait, this escalated so fast…”

CAEL – ARRIVAL IN DEMON CASTLE

He’d never seen a palace before. Not one made of black obsidian, surrounded by lava rivers, and guarded by horned soldiers twice his height.

Ashara marched through the gates with him slung over her shoulder like a sack of potatoes.

Guards stared. Nobles gasped. Somewhere, a maid dropped a tray.

She stopped in the throne room.

“Prepare the wedding,” she said, calm as anything.

Silence.

Then: outrage.

“This human is your choice?!”

“He’s pathetic! He looks like boiled cabbage!”

“You can’t be serious…”

Ashara’s aura flared. The floor cracked. The walls trembled.

Everyone shut up.

Even Cael, who had sunk to his knees behind her, flinched.

Then he reached out, pure instinct, and brushed her arm.

A faint warmth passed between them.

The storm… calmed.

She looked at him. He looked like he was about to die from sheer panic.

What a strange little man.

THE WEDDING

Three days later, Cael stood in formal black robes, half-asleep from anxiety and fully convinced he was hallucinating.

Demons, nobles, foreign dignitaries, and warlords filled the grand hall. All eyes were on him.

Ashara stood beside him, stunning in a black-and-gold gown with red gemstones glittering at her throat.

The priest declared them bound.

Cael didn’t remember saying “I do.” He remembered holding her hand. He remembered her smirking when he nearly passed out.

When the crowd erupted in applause, he wasn’t sure whether it was from celebration or sheer fear.

Ashara turned to him and smirked.

“You survived. Impressive.”

“...Did I?”

It was done.

He was married.

To the Demon Queen.

CAEL – WEDDING RECEPTION

The feast began.

Cael picked at roasted meat and exotic fruit he couldn’t name. His wine glass shook in his hand.

The Queen laughed beside him, casually incinerating a noble who made a rude joke.

He sat back and stared at the ceiling.

What have I gotten myself into?