sovereign_of_wrath
patreon
Sovereign of Wrath Ch220: Sapling
🕑 Added 2025-02-04 05:05:32 +0000 UTCI awoke to two unfortunate problems: one was some powerful aura entering my demesne at the southern edge, and the other was someone banging on my door. Seyari, who’d pulled herself up against me, stirred awake, and I glared at the door through a small gap between her massive wings.
She almost never slept in… she must have done everything in my brief absence. Gently, I pulled a sheet over us just enough to cover the necessary bits.
“What?” I whispered, letting the wind take my voice to the door so I wasn’t shouting in Sey’s ear.
“Problem, Boss!” Taava hissed from the other side. “Need-ta-know problem!”
I huffed.
“Just let her in,” Sey whispered playfully. “Let’s see if she’s as brazen about what we get up to when she’s staring it down.”
I flicked my wrist at the door, but I didn’t have enough finesse to undo the bolt. Sey chuckled, and the door swung open. Taava dashed inside, then froze.
“Uh…”
Her ears stood up, the fur on her tail bristling.
“Close the door, please, you’re letting in a draft,” I lied, tapping the edge of the bed with my tail. “We’re a little busy, but if it’s this important, you can have a seat.”
As if she’d rehearsed it, Sey yawned and stretched her wings before settling her head squarely between my breasts, only mostly hidden by the sheet.
Taava closed the door, looked pointedly away, and took a seat at my desk—backwards in the chair. “Your dumb king’s summoned ya,” she said to the floor.
“Well fuck,” Sey answered, partially muffled. “You going to go, Renna?” She looked up at me, and it wasn’t hard to tell which answer she wanted.
I closed my eyes. That presence wasn’t moving quickly toward the town—at least not yet. “There’s a message, right? Does it say why? Also…” I added the days in my mind. “Wouldn’t any messenger have run into the Church army, those mercenaries, and Shyll?”
“Shyll swiped it from a guy campin’ near the pass. Looks like he just missed ‘em, or was avoidin’ ‘em.”
“Shyll swiped a royal missive?” I pushed myself up on two arms; Sey still had firm possession of the others.
“She put it back!” Taava threw up her hands, then threw her head back down when she saw my bare chest. “Uh, Boss, listen. Could ya… could ya put some clothes on?”
The earnestness of her tone struck me. Despite Sey’s groan of protest, I conjured up a puffy nightgown and pulled the blanket up so that my wife was just a pair of crimson wings sticking out.
“I’m decent.”
Taava looked over, then snorted. “Boss, that almost looks worse! If I didn’t know ya better…”
I looked down at where Sey was. Oh my. She must have heard too, because she finally let my other two arms go as she rolled off me and wrapped herself in the sheet.
“You filth-minded cat,” she said with a smirk.
Taava shrugged and pointed to one ear. “I’m not the one suggestin’ flashin’ my friends.”
“Wait.” I looked between them, feeling the puffy tops of my horn… socks? moving back and forth. “Did… were you faking it or actually uncomfortable?”
The indefatigably obnoxious kazzel rolled her shoulders and her eyes. “Wouldn’t ya like ta know, Boss? Missive’s on your desk—don’t mind the demon brat’s handwritin’. I’m gonna go take a walk and get your fat red tats outta my mind.” With a swish of her tail, Taava got up, walked out, and slammed the door behind her.
“Did… we make a mistake?” I asked Sey. “And how dare she call my bosom anything other than magnificent!”
My wife just laughed. “I think she’s mad we got her.”
“If you say so.” I pouted. “But I might apologize later.”
Sey rolled her eyes and got up, tossing off the sheet as she started to get dressed. “I’m jealous that you can just magic clothes on yourself, you know. Wings and blouses… and cloaks don’t go together.”
“Try finding a tailor for four arms and a tail half as wide as your hips sometime.” I walked over and snatched up the only unfamiliar piece of paper on the desk.
“Oh believe me I know. Before your ‘magic clothes’ ability manifested, I was trying to figure out who to write to get you some proper clothing.”
“Countess Elstein would probably do it,” I answered distractedly as I tried to parse Shyll’s flowery handwriting. How was hers so messy when her mom’s was so neat?
“Countess Elstein?”
“She fitted me for the Winter Solstice Ball.” I scanned the missive, eyes narrowing.
“Does she know you’re a demon?”
I shrugged. “No, but she’ll probably know soon. And she did like my figure.”
Sey looked at the note and walked over, mostly dressed. “Renna, your figure is something that’d get a sculptor shamed for unrealistically sensual proportions.“ She snatched the missive from my slack claws while my brain skipped a beat.
“Oh damn, think he might finally be growing a spine.” She showed teeth—not a smile and damn if I didn’t know the difference by now.
“Do you approve then?”
“Of him? Fuck no, never. He tried to put a leash around you, love. Break him.”
“We’ll see what he does.” I smiled back, all fangs and sharp edges. “If this is about stopping a war, I’m all in—and the Church is after me anyway. I know I’ll be fighting them again.”
“But you won’t be a weapon of war, right?” Sey reminded.
“Yep. If he tries to pull that leash, I’ll bite it off.”
“Good.” Sey held the copied missive between two fingers and set it alight. Together, we watched it burn.
“I’ll go, of course,” I said when the last bit of ash fell to the ground. “It’s time everyone knows about the Demon Marchioness of Astrye—and I’ve also got a bone to pick with the Duke of Norgath.”
“You could just kill him,” Sey offered.
“And then what? Kill whoever replaces him and tries to get revenge on me?” I stuck my tongue out. “No thanks. If King Carvalon doesn’t want to lose me, he’ll shove the duke back in line, and if he’s already lost me, the duke’s going to have bigger problems.”
Sey raised one eyebrow. “Not bad. Agreed. And you’re certain Shyll didn’t make this up?”
I blinked. “Hadn’t considered it at all, actually.”
“I think we should wait until the missive shows up proper, then.”
I could still feel the presence—it certainly wasn’t Envy, or Utraxia. And I’d like to think I’d recognize Quiraxa too. “Good idea. I’ve got something urgent to take care of today anyway.”
“You don’t mean all the work you’ve been avoiding, do you?”
I shook my head. “Nope. Strong aura to the south, just entered. Probably a demon because I don’t know what else it’d be.”
“Strong enough to worry about?”
I shrugged. “I don’t think so, and they’re not really moving much.”
Sey nodded sharply. “Go deal with it then. I’ll keep covering for your ass a little while longer, but if you’re going to leave in just a few days, I’m going to work you to the bone first. Hope you don’t want sleep.”
“I got some on the island. And speaking of the island, since that aura isn’t moving I demand you and I take a few minutes and eat out on the balcony.” I crossed two arms under my chest to emphasize the point.
“Eat what?” Sey’s eyes moved away from my face.
“Durian.”
Seh looked up and twisted her nose. “Can I say no?”
“You’d make me very sad if you did.”
“...Fine. But we’re making it quick.”
***
Flying out of my castle, full of fruit and fresh memories of last night, I felt lighter than I had in months. Troubling as the unknown future is, I’m at least doing my best. Right? And flying—getting up above everything and seeing how small we really were—always cleared my head. I’d resolve to kill whoever had destroyed Seyari’s original wings, but she’d already done that.
Despite the clear head under cloudy skies, I couldn’t help but feel a pang of uncertainty when I came across a scene of geological carnage. Rocks, dirt, and the scorched remains of trees were strewn about an area just outside my demesne, and I wondered why no one had heard such a commotion. Had we not stopped manning the watchtowers, surely someone would have noticed. Though as I eyed a split boulder, I wondered if it might be better no one had noticed. The trail of carnage looked more like the impact of a snowball on a wall than a true path. A single burst of energy, and a sad trail down to where the aura had stopped moving in a thick stand of trees.
I landed outside, next to the last bit of destruction. When I hit, a sapling fell over—it’d been bent roughly, then propped back upright using a fire-charred stick. Without really thinking, I took a step toward it, and propped the sapling back upright. Maybe it’d heal.
When I turned back toward the trees, a demon stood there, naked as the day she—probably she, anyway—was born. She was a mess: half-healed cuts and bruises lined her limbs and torso. From a quick glance, she could almost pass as crimson-skinned demon-blooded. Heavy-looking black horns jutted out and up from her temples, coming to twin points two hand spans above her head. Black lips pulled tight under cold brown eyes, defined cheekbones, and long, mussed black hair made her look like a noble who’d somehow both entered and lost a bar fight.
Below the shoulders, she was built like a trained soldier, one with sharp black nails and a large spade-tipped tail that I felt a strange sort of jealousy toward with how similar it was to mine. In fact, she could probably pass for a distant cousin.
She looked at the sapling, then up at me. I couldn’t feel much anger, not until her eyes met mine and she tensed.
“You.” The word dripped scorn, pain, and hatred.
She recognized me? Who is she? Or… who was she?
“Come to finish the job?” She looked like she was about to either lunge at me or fall over. Maybe both.
“I’m just here because a potentially dangerous aura entered my demesne,” I answered honestly.
The demon snorted, but her eyes didn’t leave me. “You don’t even remember, do you? Killed so many you can’t, or do you just. Not. Care?”
I narrowed my eyes and growled. “I do care. If I didn’t, I’d have a lot more dead friends.”
“How many then? Hundreds?” She took another step forward. “Thousands?” Another, her claws flexing. “How many dead by your hands, demon?”
I stared at her face again. Something about her voice was familiar. But it was hard to focus as my stomach twisted. “I don’t know,” I replied honestly, softly. “I always try to talk it out, you know. But—”
“You kill them if they don’t agree? Are you happy when they don’t?”
This time, I took a step towards her—I was taller by at least a head’s height. “Do you think I haven’t been down this road before? That I haven’t thought about and regretted all the people I’ve killed wondering if there’s a different option? I spent so damn long trying to play the hero, trying to get everyone to see eye-to-eye and trying to make everyone accept me as a demon.
“I’ve been double-crossed, I’ve been shot in the back, and I’ve willingly tied fucking puppet strings to my arms just to hope that I can take a chance at coexisting with mortals.” I listed each point off with two hands, flames flitting out of my lips with each word.
“And now you’re done?” She looked up at me, defiant. “Just going to give up—show your true colors?”
I almost leapt at her. Almost. Her eyes flicked down to my claws for just the barest of moments before meeting my gaze once again, filled with pain so damn clear I wondered if I’d gotten a demonic sense for that too.
“No,” I replied. “Mercy is my color and I’m too damn stubborn to give it up. But I am not going to be a doormat, I’m not going to give people twenty-third chances and smile when they take me for a fool yet again. So what I want to know from you is simple. Are you a threat to me and mine, or not?”
“What if I am?”
“Then I kill you here and I go home.”
“What if that’s a mistake.”
“Then it’s another mistake I’ll need to live with. And since you’re asking me all these questions, I’ve got a damn good feeling you won’t be dying here today.”
That seemed to catch her off guard. “I won’t follow you.” She squared her shoulders, eyes glowing. “I am not yours, I am not your subject or your servant.”
Her voice was so familiar—I almost had it, but I felt like I’d only heard it once—shouting. Wait. “You’re the high priestess who tried to kill me and laid siege to Astrye last week!” Sylvia was her name.
She clenched her jaw.
“I remember her name, but I won’t say it if it’s not you anymore.”
“What?” Her composure faltered, and she blinked.
I shrugged. “Demons, people—folks change. Or sometimes they stop hiding from themselves. I won’t judge and, well”—I pointed to her—“you’re of Wrath, I can feel it. But I’m not your overlord if you don’t want me to be. Only exception is if you want to be in Astrye—if you do, you’ll need to follow its laws and be a citizen.”
“So you’d just let me go. Do you expect me to believe that?”
“Yes. And yes.”
She started to circle around me, eyes never leaving me, scanning for movement. When I waved, she nearly jumped; I suppressed a smile and an unSovereignly giggle. After circling around me, she turned and started south, head over her shoulders, posture tense and gait a little unsteady. I had to remind myself that she almost certainly had fire magic, was well-trained, and did not need either sleep or food.
I also had to stuff down the part of me that wanted to kill her again for what she’d done. But if I had the right of it… I glanced at the sapling again. She’s already punishing herself more than I ever could.
“Every penitent deserves forgiveness,” I whispered, loud enough that I was sure she heard it. “Dhias knows I’d be such a hypocrite otherwise.”
With a flare of fury, she took off in a run. Slow, injured, weak. I’d taken a step before I forced myself not to give chase. She’ll either be back, live as a hermit punishing herself for a thousand years, or run into Utraxia’s demesne and get herself killed.
She was strong; I could feel that much. And I had a pretty good imprint of her aura in my mind. If she came back, I’d know. And I was damn certain she wouldn’t return with claws and fangs bared. If anything, this was all the more reason to help Sonia with her demon-blooded-supporting organization. I wasn’t innocent enough to lead something like that anymore.
Besides, demons counted as demon-blooded, right?
Comments
Genebeep (LadyLinq)
Yikes, I wonder what messed her up so much? The crash?
Ophelia Magos
I mean they've gotta, right? Gotta get the blood from somewhere.
