Coronation day is here. My coronation day, as queen of Hell. Luke has insisted that he be called prince regent, at least until the day we tie the knot, so that it’s clear who’s in charge. Turns out my hyper-controlling nerdy self? Loves being in charge.
Porsoth and I have spent days in the library going through arcane regulations and discussing tweaks. Rofocale has been assigned to oversee the first group of second-chancers. He’s come around surprisingly quickly. Porsoth says he always liked me, and I’m aware that’s a lie. But he even takes orders from Luke without complaining directly.
Agnes has been working with Porsoth, putting off leaving, which I didn’t expect. She said this feels like a second chance already—but that she reserves the right to leave if we get too annoying. I have not pointed out the irony that we did all this for her and now she seems happy where she is. A true Agnes move.
We’ve also managed to figure out a handkerchief method so my family can come visit when they want. Mom’s bringing Vale as her date today. We told Jared to let his apartment go to some nice, fully human couple. I hope they’re happy in it.
A low whistle sounds behind me, and I’m grinning when I spin elaborately to show off the swirling black brocade skirt of my gown. The tailors of Hell have worked on this goth confection for six weeks and it’s almost too exquisite to wear. It’s not exactly me, but Porsoth reminded me that I’m also an office now and I have to look the part “today of all days.”
And I like it. I especially like the way Luke looks at me, breathtaking in a perfectly tailored black suit. Bosch and Cupcake scamper in from behind him, where they’ve been hanging out in the outer chamber of our apartments. They do an excited circle around me and then head back through the door. Watching the demon staff treat them like royal pets is so much fun.
“You are a vision,” Luke says, like he just recovered the ability to speak.
“Keep going,” I say and twirl once more for good measure.
“Oh no, you’re turning into me,” he says.
I wrinkle my nose at him to prove I am not. “You’ve got something on your face,” I say as he walks over to me.
He slips his arm around my waist. “No, you’ve got something on your face.”
“Porsoth will murder me if I mess up this dress,” I say.
“You’re the boss of him now. And of me,” he says, and leans in for a kiss. It lasts long enough that it goes from “quick kiss” to “we’re starting something” territory. I push the heavy drape over the window aside to peek out. The plains are still covered by demons on their way to the Gray Keep for the ceremony.
“You know, sometimes I want to say it, the words,” I say. “I love you.”
“And I love you,” Luke says. Our breathing mingles. My skin feels hot, like I could take it off the same way I’d take off this dress. “So,” he says, “do we have to be on time?”
I pause to consider. “No,” I say. “I checked with the woman in charge. We definitely do not.”
He laughs and scoops me up in his arms, elaborate skirts and all, and heads for the bed. Our bed. Our life together.
It’s only the beginning.