After an hour of hiking through forest truly bereft of civilization, the Duke and her wife emerged at the edge of a bustling village, its gaslamps gently holding back the dusky-grey prelude to night. They had traveled in silence, Lucia replaying again and again that wonderful, horrid, perfect, impossible moment in her mind. Musket-fire be damned, her heart had taken a far more fatal wound than any soldier could inflict.
She knew she could stir desire in the Duke’s heart. She had known it since the moment she had been summoned. But disgust? Was that what Talia truly thought of her?
Even if they could never be together, the revelation was slowly crushing her.
Talia did her best to fain an air of obliviousness. And, to her credit, Lucia could not sense that spike of discordant revulsion she had so clearly felt before. She couldn’t sense anything from her. The woman kept an iron cage about her heart, and rarely could Lucia manage the barest glimpse through the bars.
She took in a deep breath. This changed nothing. She was a demon, under contract. She had worked with those who hated her before. This was nothing new.
She had a job to do, and she would do it.
Talia held out her hand for Lucia, and the demon took it as she fixed her face in an expression of impassivity.
This would all be over soon.
***
“You seem a little morose,” Talia said as they took to their room at the local inn. One bed stood in the room, along with a few chairs and a small table.
Lucia supposed, a little bitterness still working its way through her system, that her Duke would insist on sleeping in a chair for the night.
The demon sighed. She realized these last few months had been the happiest times she’d experienced for centuries. And it all had come crashing down so quickly. Dreams usually do.
“Can we … do you want to talk about it?” There was a hesitation in Talia’s voice Lucia rarely heard.
Yes. No. Of course, and I will keep the secrets of my heart to the grave. The responsible thing, the honest thing, would be to talk about it, Lucia knew. But she wasn’t feeling particularly responsible right now.
“I saw your heart,” Lucia managed. “I know what you must think of me … of any possibility of us. I felt the disgust within you.” She sat down on the bed, the single candle in the room doing absolutely nothing to enlighten Talia’s features. Her emotions, too, were as guarded as ever.
Eventually, Talia spoke. “There is another option. We could simply walk away, together. I mean, live a life apart from my vengeance, your contract keeping you upon this realm for as long as we—”
“Impossible.” Lucia closed her eyes, wishing it were not so. Her heart leapt in her chest regardless, against all reason. “Why pretend? Even if you did love me, it doesn’t work that way. If I am not actively working towards fulfilling your invoked curse, then I’ll fade away in a matter of months, if not weeks, drawn back into the Dream. And even those weeks would be hellish. I would feel the pull towards the curse—towards your vengeance—constantly, at the forefront of my mind.”
Talia sat on the bed and guided Lucia to sit beside her. “And if the curse is fulfilled?” Her eyes told the succubus that she already knew the answer.
“Then I’m gone. I’d have a day or two left, at best, before the Abyssal Dream claims my soul again.”
Why was the Duke asking this? A false love would be worse than none at all, as far as Lucia was concerned. Talia’s expression was hard, and nothing stirred within her heart—leastwise, nothing Lucia could discern.
Then, slowly, Talia opened her mouth to speak, though nothing came out. She closed it again, closed her eyes, and tried again. “And what if I simply … summon you again?”
“Unless you have my true name, it would be next to impossible to find me again. Demons are vastly outnumbered by humanity in its millions, but we are still innumerable. It would be like hunting for—”
“For a single name among all the inhabitants of Melodia,” Talia finished for her.
“Yes.”
“But if—”
“Stop,” Lucia said flatly, eyes burning. “Why are you asking this? I saw your heart when we … when we …” She couldn’t get the words out, but she didn’t need to. She squeezed her eyes shut. “Why be so cruel?”
Talia had no answer for her. Instead, she stood and crossed over to the chair, face unreadable.
After a while, Lucia slid under the covers of the bed and turned her back to Talia. Sleep found her quickly, the night’s only blessing. The Duke was still sitting in the chair, candle burning down as its light flickered across her unreadable expression, when Lucia awoke hours later. The greyness before dawn lit the room only slightly.
Talia’s eyes were fixed in the middle distance; it was possible she was asleep with eyes open. Lucia saw no motion from her save for steady breathing.
The demon covered her head with the bedsheets and fitfully entered the realm of sleep once more.