8. His Ruthlessness
704 Words
All through dinner, Liam made Amelia uncomfortable without meaning to. Or maybe he did mean to. How would she know?
When the main course was served, Amelia’s narrowed as she tried to recognize what it was made of.
“Aren’t you going to eat that?” The demon king, who was sitting right next to her, let out in a teasing tone.
“I don’t know if I should,” she told him, sounding and feeling very hesitant, almost reluctant. “Is there shrimp in there?”
“Oh, I totally forgot that you’re allergic to shrimp,” he said simply, and with a snap of his finger, a servant appeared at their side, and he instructed her to take away the dish and bring something else.
Now, that was a big surprise for Amelia. She barely knew the guy. And for all intents and purposes, he didn’t know her either. How did he figure out she was allergic to shrimp? She didn’t believe her thoughts gave her away, as she hadn’t been thinking of her allergy per se, but of what could happen to her.
“Care to have my salad, sweetheart?” he offered, “I know how fond you are of it.”
Yet another surprise.
Amelia’s eyes widened impossibly, and she blushed when she saw him smirk at her. He must find her and her reactions very amusing.
“Indeed, I do,” he breathed out.
“I couldn’t possibly eat your salad,” she stammered on her first two words, and her blush deepened.
“Why the hell not?” His eyes narrowed at her in a half playful half angry manner.
She was sure he wasn’t used to getting talked back to, and it showed in the gasps that left the audience they had. Although they were speaking in hushed tones, making it almost intimate, it seemed like their conversation was not entirely private.
“Don’t worry, Amelia. Liam doesn’t like salad,” was Ilyne’s input.
Amelia looked in the princess’ direction and then back at the demon king, although without meeting his eyes. She ended up surrendering, not brave enough to argue, and thus reached out for the salad.
“Do you, humans, have any table manners?” A woman iced out.
And Amelia froze in her spot, blushing to the roots of her hair for some unfathomable reason. She wondered what she could have done wrong, and her eyebrows knitted in confusion.
“You do not get to…” The woman began in a reprimand, only to be cut off by Liam’s harsh, “Enough! Who do you think you are to talk to my bride to be that way?”
A strangled gasp escaped her lips, and she was quick to say, “My apologies, your highness. I didn’t intend to come across as rude.”
“Didn’t you?” He taunted in an impossibly cold voice. “You’re dismissed, Lady Annalyse. And don’t show your face in front of me, ever again.”
The elegant brunette he had called Lady Annalyse looked shell shocked. Amelia couldn’t blame her. She, too, would be shocked to be dismissed so cruelly in front of everyone, as if she were nothing but trash. She pitied the woman. And yet, the brunette’s eyes only held malice when they met Amelia’s. And this latter flinched almost as if she had been slapped.
“Your highness,” Lady Annalyse tried to soften his heart a little bit.
“I’m a man of one word, Lady Annalyse. And I believe I just told you to never show your face in front of me again.”
The demon king wasn’t just a title. And there was more to him than just a pretty face. The demon king was as ruthless as they come, it seemed. And Amelia wasn’t sure she felt completely comfortable knowing that.
How was she to deal with his ruthlessness?
- Writer
