Page 43 of Demon's Beauty

She seems more relaxed now that it’s just the two of us, though I still feel the need to apologize for her earlier discomfort.

“Sorry,” I say, resting my elbows on my knees. “For all of that.”

“All of what?”

“The interrogation you had to endure.”

She gives her head a rueful shake. “It’s alright. I’m sure my coven sisters would have just as many questions if a demon came to visit the coven hall.”

The comment brings to mind dozens of questions I’d like to ask her about her life back in the human realm. I’d like to know everything, no detail spared.

“That’s where you live?” I ask, deciding on the most straightforward one. “At the coven hall?”

“Yeah, I’ve lived there for most of my life. I’m apprenticing now, on track to… well… just apprenticing, I guess.”

I let out a thoughtful hum, wondering what she didn’t say, but not willing to press her on it.

Not now, when every step forward I make with her feels so precious.

“What about you?” she asks, changing the subject. “What do you do when you’re not off on a mission with the court guard?”

“I…” My words dry up and my heart falls.

How do I answer that?

I spend my days lazing around the court and my nights hosting parties. I amuse myself with short-lived passions anddistracted pursuits, never taking anything seriously enough to dedicate myself to it.

“Sorry,” Soleil murmurs. “That was prying. You don’t have to tell me if you—”

“No,” I hurriedly assure her. “I mean, I don’t mind the question. It’s just… I don’t have a particular occupation at the moment. This guard assignment was… rather last minute. And temporary.”

I’ve never had a permanent occupation, and I’m not sure I ever will.

Surprisingly, Soleil laughs. “That sounds nice. Sometimes I feel like I’ve nevernothad an occupation. There’s never really been a time when I didn’t have someone expecting something from me.”

“Even when you were a child?”

“Especiallywhen I was child.” She sighs and looks up at the stars, thinking for a moment. “Crescent witches… there’s a lot expected of us. Of our magick. Even when we’re children. Not everyone gets to stay at the coven hall and keep training, and I can remember being aware of that even when I was maybe seven? Eight? Young enough that I didn’t really understand, but I was terrified of not making the cut.”

“What happened to those who didn’t?”

“They didn’t get to stay,” she says softly. “The girls Esme decided were worthy moved into the coven hall and got more training. They were set up for a whole life of protection and favor by the coven. And those who weren’t were sent off into the mundane world, the non-magickal world.”

Given what she said earlier about how magick-users are treated in her realm, I can understand the sorrow in her voice.

“I feel so guilty about it sometimes,” she continues. “Being asked to stay.Agreeingto stay. My sister… I think she understood way before I did how fucked up it was. How eventhough we were consideredluckyfor being chosen, it didn’t mean we fared any better. We all ended up suffering in the end, in our own ways.”

Anger blinks to life in my chest. “How did you suffer?”

The vehemence in my tone startles her a little. “That sounded dramatic, didn’t it? Maybesufferwas too strong a word for—”

“Soleil.” I lay my hand over hers where it rests on the log between us. “Don’t do that.”

“Do what?”

“Downplay something that hurt you. Not for my sake, at least. I never want you to feel you have to censor how you’re feeling on my account.”

Her eyes grow big and round in the firelight, a little damp, though I might just be imagining the sheen of tears with how quickly she blinks it away.