Chapter 15: The Prince of the Obsidian Gulf

THE DAY PRINCE VAERDANIS ARRIVES

Five days.

That was how long Cael had been forced to sit in a pit of slow-boiling anxiety, marinating in the absurd rumors that trickled into Ashenfall from faraway kingdoms.

The first two days he had gone full investigative journalist, pestering guards, cornering servants, interrogating Nyssa with increasingly desperate “what have you heard?” questions. By Day Three, however, the results had been so ridiculous that he’d given up entirely.

Rumor #1: Prince Vaedranis could speak to shadows. Not in a metaphorical way, but actually hold long conversations with them. One traveler claimed to have seen the prince nod politely to a wall before walking away.

Rumor #2: He once fought a kraken. Not on water. On land. In a library. Over a book.

Rumor #3: He eats soup with a knife.

By the end of Day Three, Cael decided ignorance was better for his sanity. And it wasn’t like Ashenfall was short on distractions. In the span of two days:

* One of the castle gargoyles came to life and demanded a vacation.

* A street in town was blocked for hours because three imps got stuck inside a barrel of pickles, voluntarily.

* In the palace kitchen, an oven somehow became self-aware, announced it was now the “Head Chef,” and challenged the actual head chef to a duel.

By the morning of Day Five, Cael’s nerves were raw again. The prince would arrive today.

UNDERWHELMING ARRIVAL

The reception hall felt far too large and far too quiet. Cael sat beside Ashara on her throne, pretending to look calm while his brain ran worst-case scenarios at lightning speed.

When the heavy doors opened, the prince’s arrival was… underwhelming. No army. No flashy parade. Just himself, an advisor, and four soldiers.

That in itself set off alarm bells in Cael’s mind. Is he so powerful he doesn’t need an army? Assassin. Definitely assassin.

The prince’s cloak obscured most of his face. Another red flag in Cael’s mind. He’s hiding weapons under there. Or poison. Or a smaller assassin.

In truth, Vaedranis had simply come with a small entourage to avoid attention. He was hot and handsome, yes, as all demon princes apparently were, but his posture, almost inward-leaning, gave away something Cael didn’t expect: shyness.

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They approached the dais and bowed deeply. Ashara’s eyes sharpened.

“State your purpose in meeting my husband,” she said, her voice smooth but edged.

The entourage took a reflexive step back.

“We come in peace, Queen Ashara,” the advisor said quickly. “The prince has… a request of your husband.”

Her aura withdrew slightly. “And what would that be?”

The advisor glanced at Cael, who was frozen in a state somewhere between ready to faint and ready to run. “May we speak in private?”

THE QUEEN’S OFFICE

Inside Ashara’s office, the request finally came out.

“I want you,” Vaedranis said quietly, “to teach me how to cook.”

Cael blinked. “...What?”

Vaedranis explained that the woman he loved enjoyed Cael’s food.

Ashara’s eyes narrowed. “You cooked for other women?”

“WHAT? No! That’s not…I didn’t even…I only cooked in the palace!” Cael sputtered, arms flailing like a man trying to swat away invisible accusations.

The adviser quickly interjected and said she had once been a judge at the trade fair food contest, the same contest where Cael’s dishes had won over the panel.

She had given Cael perfect scores every time, simply because she adored his cooking.

Vaedranis, still hiding under his cloak, muttered, “She… was in the elimination round. Always smiling when eating your food. She… has rough skin, a wide nose, four tusks. Beautiful tusks. And she likes stew.”

Cael had to pause at that. Not the description he expected for the love interest of a hot demon prince, but then again, looking at his own situation, perhaps this was just normal demon romance.

Ashara leaned back, clearly amused now. “And so you think learning to cook like my husband will win her heart?”

The prince nodded silently.

Nyssa was summoned. Ashara outlined the situation, then began negotiating.

Soon, the Obsidian Gulf would be sending a generous amount of rare goods to Ashenfall… in exchange for lodging, food, and cooking lessons for one shy, handsome prince.

Cael’s opinion was never consulted.

They would start tomorrow, Cael said, during the Demon Court breakfast so Vaedranis could watch the kitchen in action. Nyssa led the prince and his entourage to a tour of the palace and then to their chambers.

POTION VERSION 6

Ashara, however, had other plans for her husband.

Back in their room, she pulled out a vial with a wicked smile.

“Version Six. Improved endurance and strength. Let’s loosen up your tension.”

Twelve hours later, Cael was only slightly worse than half alive. Ashara was glowing.

“Only a few more tweaks and you’ll last a full day.”

Cael passed out in horror. Ashara chuckled.

“We’ll get there soon, darling.”