I stewed in rhetorical upon rhetorical, but what did this breadth of time mean for me?
I had to wait, but I’d call on the curses of every god known to the pantheons for the barest hint of knowledge on when I’d see Love again. After all, nine months in the mortal realm could be two weeks, two days, or two hours in Hell, for all I knew, and that wasifher soul was reborn.
At any time, she could choose to leave her cycle, to follow the light that led her to the afterlife of her chosen realm, to join her gods, her people, the path laid before her.
But if…if…if she’d stayed…
Its inconsistency was of countless infuriating inevitabilities in our entanglement.
A knock at my door, too loud to be a servant, too soft to be my father. “Open up, Amagi.”
“Leave me.”
The door cracked. We weren’t full siblings, but her mother’s status as Queen of Succubi gave her certain privileges that would have landed any other disrespectful citizen’s head on a spike, royal or otherwise. She was the first daughter of her court, just as I was the first son of mine. Our relationship was equal parts siblings and ambassadors—Hell’s Royal Court, and the Court of Nightmares. Our father ruled over Hell’s other courts, from the Draconian to the Infernal, but only ours shared family.
At least, for now. Eternity was a long time, and the earthly world wasn’t the only one that valued the blood ties of political allegiance.
Maybe the rumors of new siblings forced her hand, but for fuck’s sake, Izi was newly unbearable in a way that would have ended in her banishment, had she been anyone else.
She slipped in and closed the door.
“Bite your tongue. I don’t want to hear what you’re about to say.”
Izi’s inky cloud of hair wafted around, defying gravity. “It seems you know why I’m here.”
“I have a guess. And you being my sister won’t stop me from killing you.”
She caught me at the same desk I’d been at for the last six visits. My posture remained unchanged from her last however-many visits. She pressed her back against the door, saying her piece softly from across the room.
“You’re making a mistake.”
I pressed the tips of my fingers into my temples. “Your opinion is noted, unwelcome, and has been disregarded. Leave.”
“Amagi—”
“Is not my name,” I bit. “You don’t know me, and I don’t know you. Whatever advice you’re about to give is to the sibling you want, not the one you have. Deal with your court as you must. Tell our father you tried your best. But the next time you weigh in on my human, you’ll leave without a tongue.”
There was a tiny squeak to her sound that caught me truly off guard. “Brother, you know not what you say.”
“Sister.” I gnawed off the word with as much venom as I could muster. “You know not to whom you speak.”
I didn’t look up when the door opened and the lock clicked as it closed.
I had nine mortal months.
It wasn’t enough time to come up with any true plan, but it was enough to think about what Izi had said. I didn’t give a fuck about relaxing or thefunto which she’d referred. I would throw my title to the fire over what mistakes I may or may not be making.
My sister was right about one thing, though I wouldn’t admit such truths to her.
It was a mistake to let others know about my human.
The courts, the realms, the pantheons—immortals would have a reaction to the way I followed a human soul. I didn’t care what it meant for the kingdom. My father could handle royal business. He could appoint new ambassadors. He could call upon our counts, our dukes, our duchesses, our marquises.
Legions awaited his command. His, mine, and all who served him.
As his only son, heavy was the crown, or so the saying went.
But my care was trapped with what this meant for my human.
