The Forty-Eighth Amirate of Deimos
In the Castle Library
Emilia
I stumble upon some intriguing information in a book and find myself rereading the same paragraph over and over. In the past two months, I’ve made significant progress in learning the Deimosian language. It helps that all languages stem from a single root. But maybe I’ve misunderstood something?
“Amir Darius,” I call out.
“Yes, Arch-Amira,” the demon responds immediately, lifting his gaze from the book he’s reading.
Evenings like this, spent reading together, have become quite routine for both of us.
“I can’t quite make sense of this text,” I say, reading the troubling paragraph aloud to him before switching back to the common tongue. “Did I understand correctly that the wife of an Arch-Amir doesn’t automatically receive the title of Arch-Amira?”
“That’s correct, Arch-Amira,” the demon confirms with a kind smile.
“And it goes on to say that this title must be... hmm... earned, I think.”
“The title of Arch-Amir isn’t hereditary, just like the status of Amir. It can be won through a test of strength,” Darius begins to explain, and I nod—I already know this part. “Amirs are the strongest of the high demons, while the Arch-Amir is the strongest of the strong, pardon the repetition. The wives of Amirs, or the wife of an Arch-Amir, also can’t claim their titles by default.”
“And who exactly am I supposed to challenge to a test of strength?” I scoff.
“Women earn their titles under different circumstances. It’s believed that titles come with recognition. In other words, those who believe you’ve earned the right to bear the title will address you as such. And the higher the status of the demon who acknowledges you, the more weight their words carry,” the demon pauses, then adds, “Usually, it’s enough for an Amir, or in your case, the Arch-Amir, to recognize his wife’s title. Then other demons will accept your status as well.”
I stare at Amir Darius in surprise. It’s no secret that the Arch-Amir has never acknowledged my title. The last time I saw him was at our wedding. Our bloody wedding.
For the past two months, I’ve spent my days solely in the company of the true Amir Darius and a handful of guards in one of the provincial amirates.
“But then why do you call me Arch-Amira? From the very first day we met. As far as I know, the Arch-Amir never confirmed my title.”
Amir Darius smiles again.
“Just because he hasn’t said it out loud doesn’t mean he hasn’t confirmed it. I’ve lived many years and have a certain amount of experience. I can tell you that your recognition as Arch-Amira is only a matter of time.”
I close the book and sit up straighter in my chair.
And how exactly did he confirm it? When he tried to strangle me? When he abandoned me in some backwater amirate? When he left me with the real Amir Darius as a babysitter, a constant reminder of his deception and a jab at me?
I don’t say any of this out loud, but the demon must notice the skepticism written all over my face.
“Valtazar has a quick temper, and his personality has never been easy to deal with. That’s just how the circumstances of his life have shaped him. But it’s not my place to recount those circumstances to you. What I do know for certain is that he’s not indifferent to you. He might not fully realize it himself yet. But sooner or later, he’ll acknowledge it—to himself, to you, and to all of Deimos. And he’ll remember everyone who showed disrespect to his wife in the meantime.”
That monster isn’t indifferent to me? Does he really believe that?
But I can sense, through my gift, that Darius truly believes what he’s saying. Lately, I’ve been using my gift quite actively. More like constantly. I can’t afford to be deceived again. One lesson was enough.
“I think you’re mistaken, Amir Darius. What kind of ‘not indifferent’ are we talking about? This is a contractual marriage. That’s no secret.”
The demon just smiles in response and shrugs.
I pick up the book again and dive back into reading. But I can’t focus on the text, rereading the same sentence several times without grasping its meaning.
Irritated, I toss the book onto the small table beside me.
“But if that’s really the case, then what am I doing here? In a castle I’m not allowed to leave! Alone! Oh, pardon me, Amir Darius, in your company, of course. That doesn’t exactly scream ‘not indifferent’!” I don’t even notice that I’ve started raising my voice.
Amir Darius leans closer to me, continuing to speak in the same calm tone as always.
“You’re just not used to the new flow of time yet. For demons, two months is a grain of sand in a vast desert of time. Of course, old demons like me count and cherish every grain. But Valtazar is still young enough not to worry about it. Besides, while he’s busy tracking down those who orchestrated the attack on the brides, he can’t devote enough attention to your protection. So it’s better for you to stay in a safe place for now.”
I look at the demon in confusion—this is the first I’ve heard about Valtazar searching for traitors. But in these two months, I haven’t exactly been curious about his life. I didn’t even want to hear his name.
And does Darius really believe that Valtazar sent me here to protect me? I don’t buy it. More likely, he just doesn’t want me around to be a nuisance. Or maybe he personally wants to kill me. I’d believe that sooner.
Unexpectedly, Darius’s warm, dry hand covers mine.
“I don’t know exactly what happened between you two. But you have many years ahead to come to an understanding. You’re bound to each other more than you realize. And it’s not just about the contract. You know that perfectly well.”
“Thank you for your words, but…” I don’t get to finish or pull my hand away before a voice cuts in from the side.
“What a touching scene!”
The familiar voice strikes my raw nerves, and I jolt out of my chair, leaping to my feet. My eyes immediately lock with a pair of fiery, familiar ones.
Valtazar…
What is he doing here?
I freeze, unsure of where to go or what to do.
Unlike me, Amir Darius rises from his seat unhurriedly and bows his head respectfully.
“Good evening, Arch-Amir.”
But Valtazar doesn’t acknowledge the greeting, continuing to glare at me with a dark expression.
He steps closer and places something on the table. I can’t even tear my eyes away from him to see what it is.
“With me, Darius,” he says to the Amir, and within seconds, they both vanish in a silvery flash of a portal.
I take a deep breath. It feels like I hadn’t been breathing at all until now.
My gaze drops to the envelopes on the table. They’re unmarked. I sink back into the chair, my hands trembling as I pick up the first envelope and hurriedly open it. I unfold the letter, and my eyes immediately catch the familiar handwriting. Olivia! I quickly open the other envelope and see that the second letter is from Tamila.
Overwhelmed, I lower my hands and stare blankly ahead, seeing nothing in front of me.
I had asked Amir Darius to find out about Olivia and Tamila’s fates. All I knew was that they, along with the rest of the group, had made it to Deimos and gotten married. He promised to help and bring me news from them.
And now Valtazar shows up with letters from the people closest to me. In person.
What does his behavior even mean?