I looked at him directly. “Do YOU even want me to know it?”
The entire room went still again. One council member actually leaned forward slightly like this conversation had become significantly more dangerous. My demon held my gaze for a long second before answering carefully.
“In demonic royalty, true names are not spoken casually.”
The ruler smiled again. “Because names are power.”
Another council member added coldly, “A royal name given freely becomes a vulnerability.”
Nina blinked once. “Oh my God. Hell turned trust into classified information.”
“That is actually an excellent summary,” Anderson admitted.
My attention drifted back to my demon as my thoughts tangled together painfully again.
“So all this time,” I said quietly, “I didn’t even know the real you.”
Finally his expression cracked slightly after that, and for the first time all night he seemed genuinely afraid of losing me again, which affected me far more than it should have considering I was still actively trying to stay angry at him.
The throne room remained painfully silent around us while silver fire crackled softly against the palace walls. Every demonin the chamber watched us with open fascination now like this had stopped being politics and become something far more dangerous.
My demon stepped toward me with the same careful hesitation again, like he genuinely thought I might move away from him this time, and the worst part was that some stubborn part of me still wanted to.
“You know me,” he said quietly.
I snorted softly once before I could stop myself. “That feels statistically questionable right now.”
A few demons nearby were deeply offended that I was joking in front of demonic rulers. The sight of their horrified faces improved my mood slightly. But my demon didn’t smile though.
“You know the parts of me that matter.”
The words landed harder than I expected. Because my brain betrayed me with memories again. Him making coffee barefoot in my kitchen. Him silently fixing things around my apartment without asking. Him wrapping blankets around my shoulders while pretending it meant nothing. Him kissing me like leaving physically hurt him.
Those parts were real. That was the problem.
I glanced down briefly at the glowing mark on my wrist before asking quietly, “Then why does it feel like everybody in this room knows you better than I do?”
The rulers exchanged brief looks across the throne room while my demon visibly struggled for an answer that wouldn’t hurt me further.
That hurt too. Finally, he admitted quietly, “Because they know what I am,” and the honesty in his voice pulled something painfully tight inside my chest.
I turned back up at him. “And what exactly are you afraid I’ll do if I know your real name?”
The entire throne room went quiet again. Not the normal kind either. The kind where every person in the room realized something had gone very, very wrong. Even Anderson went still beside us.
The younger brother muttered, “Oh this conversation is becoming illegal.”
One older council member answered before my demon could.
“A true royal name gives power over the one who speaks it.”
Nina blinked. “Oh absolutely not. That is terrible system design.”
Another ruler spoke coldly from farther up the throne platform. “Names are sacred among demonic royalty. They are revealed only during the mating ceremony.”
My stomach dropped instantly at the word ceremony because of course Hell had ceremonies. That felt exactly like the kind of terrifyingly formal problem this situation would turn into.
Nina stared at him in horror. “I'm sorry, the WHAT ceremony?”
