Devilla
"I can't believe you came home with a privacy spell," Abigail muttered, glancing down at the hand that held her own, before turning to glare at... Something. Not me, exactly. Nor Bailey, who's lupine head was laying upon my lap. The only target I could detect was the wall - or perhaps the tower? The world as a whole? "After everything I went through..."
"That's
what you're focused on?" I questioned, arching a brow. "I'd have thought Lucy's confession of affection to make a much better bid for your attention."
"I mean, sure," she grumbled, shifting her gaze to me. The anger had thankfully left her gaze, but I could sense her frustration all the same. "The fact that the literal nightmare of our people has somehow developed a crush on you is big news. But it's also so mind bogglingly insane that I can't even process it right now. So yeah, I'm more focused on the fact that I apparently unleashed political chaos
and
had to deal with that bitchy lamia for
no damn reason."
"I
still can't believe you met Nivera," I admitted, shaking my head in disbelief. A completely valid sentiment on my part, that was only
partially
driven by pangs of guilt and a desire to avoid eye contact with my poor maid. "Do you have any idea how long it's been since her name passed through my head?"
"Since you made it illegal to
say
her name, maybe?" Abigail remarked, before narrowing her eyes at me. "Speaking of which, it'd be great if you changed that. I usually prefer to insult people by name over species
."
"Right..." I nodded, my cheeks turning pink as I recalled the brash law I'd put in place. An abuse of power, if ever there was one. "Consider it legal."
Abigail didn't say anything, at first. She merely stared at me. Only after several uncomfortable seconds of this did she press a hand against her forehead, let loose a pained groan, and mutter, "I can't believe I'm friends with the fucking Demon Queen... You seriously just changed the law, didn't you?"
"I'll need to alert Sylvanna and have word of it spread... But effectively, yes." I suppose it
was
weird from an outside perspective. Jacob certainly would have found the idea 'mind boggling.' In fact, the mere thought of any American president changing the law with a word was enough to send shivers down my spine. And yet, at the same time, the knowledge that I could do so felt as natural to me as the fact that I could talk at all.
Personally, I was more stuck on the fact that Abigail had actually begun to consider me a friend. It felt to me as if she'd been through nothing but suffering at my hands. She'd been forced to deal with Mifa, then Sylvanna, and now Nivera, all because of me. And for what? A few french fries? Delicious as they might have been, I wasn't sure even paradise on a plate could pay her back for what she'd been through.
She'd probably just glare at me if I pointed it out though.
"Right..." Abigail muttered, blissfully unaware of my likely headache inducing doubts. "Because that makes it any
less
crazy
.
Also, speaking of Sylvanna, what's the deal with you two, anyway? I mean, obviously she hates your guts, and you feel terrible about what you did to her and all that, but... is it just me, or are you sorta
afraid
of dealing with her?"
"I wouldn't go so far as to call myself 'afraid,'" I protested. "I simply... Dislike the way she makes me feel." Small. Insignificant.
Stupid.
Like a child, in over her head, desperately lashing out at the world while simultaneously begging for someone else to take her burdens away. The same as when we'd first met. "We both know I deserve it, though."
"I mean, you
did
threaten to leave her entire population petrified," Abigail confirmed. "But, like I keep telling you, you aren't the same person anymore. You just need to give her time to learn the real you."
"I don't think it's that simple, Abigail," I said, shaking my head. "Fifteen years of forced labor is a bit much to forgive, no matter how much I change my behavior. Even if I was arrogant enough to think myself worthy of a second chance, I'd still say you're asking too much from her. "
"Fifteen years...?" Abigail whispered. The look of horror on her face was expected, painful as it may have been. Her next words, however, were not. "Devilla... How old were you, exactly, when you made that threat?"
"Around seven? It was a little bit after the debacle with Nivera - so more like fourteen years and change, I suppose. Though I hardly think it makes a difference."
"And how old was Sylvanna?" Abigail pressed, again narrowing her eyes. Somehow, despite her glare being pointed in my direction this time, it still didn't feel as if it were meant for me.
"Seventeen, I believe? Too young for the duties I pushed upon her, no matter how you slice it."
"Too... Devilla! You were
literally
just a little kid! And she's been talking to you like... like
that?