Hell's Consort

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The Vampire King Apollyon

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"The Faerie Prince Aspen is here to see you."

Apollyon raised an eyebrow at that strange news. "Where is he right now?"

What was the Faerie Prince doing in the Vampire Realm when Apollyon had clearly told the Kings in haste to pick up the women they fancied from his Consortium and fuck off?

Well, just as long as they had consented to the King's personal arrangements.

Apollyon didn't care if he might come across as a rude host for canceling the remaining days of the Marriage Auction years ago.

The Kings had outstayed the Castle, and all of these events were useless if Luna wasn't here to witness its success.

He had managed everything well to impress her when she returned under the wire.

If the Kings couldn't help Apollyon's wife return to the Vampire Realm, the least they can do was go home and not bother him.

He wanted all of them gone.

They needed to return to their own Kingdoms while handling his own problem.

Apollyon didn't tell them what happened to his wife.

The Kings were oblivious of his recent affairs.

There was no point in asking for help when none of them have ever handled Archdemons before.

In the beginning, Apollyon had asked them for help, but they couldn't do anything except regard him with eyes full of pity.

The expressions on their faces made him livid, making him see red, but he fought the urge to strike them dead.

His nostrils flared, and Apollyon couldn't explain how much he hated that.

The next morning of the Masquerade Ball, the Dragon Emperor and the Fae Prince had offered assistance when they saw him at the Council Room with messed-up hair from the constant brushing of his fingers out of frustration.

They somehow knew that something was wrong.

The last thing they heard of him was that Apollyon and his wife had retired early at the Masquerade Ball to enjoy the baby-making pleasures of married life.

Apollyon wanted to keep it that way.

He didn't want any gossip to spread outside the Vampire Realm that the Empress was gone when they go back to their respective kingdoms.

He might be accused of killing her.

His royal subjects were already open to her presence as a reigning monarch, and if they found out that she was eternally unconscious--

Once, it can be considered an accident, but this 'accident' had already happened twice.

The Kings had sworn their secrecy at the Council Room when the Empress was missing the first time.

If Apollyon broke the news again that the Empress's soul was lost, his iron-clad control of the Vampire Kingdom might backfire.

He had made an enemy of King Panterra because of the Sword Duels.

His dues to Apollyon—his blatant disrespect of the Empress—was a debt already paid by his defeat and humiliation at the Tournament.

Apollyon would never rule out the possibility of revenge when he least expected it.

The loss of his Empress will make him vulnerable that was why he had kept it under wraps for years, and to his relief, there was no attempted siege of his Castle while he was distracted by his suffering and loss.

Apollyon could never afford to look weak.

Gossip and rumors can destroy a person's reputation, but…was there a need to defend himself when his so-called reputation was destroyed a long time ago?

Apollyon's 'reputation' had no use when his Empress was gone, but still, his ears perked up for Cederic's next reply.

"I brought him to the Throne Room, Your Highness."

Apollyon didn't dally in the Ivory Tower.

He shut his eyes and materialized at the bottom of his golden throne steps.

Glancing around the unoccupied seats inside the Great Hall, his lips pressed into a white slash when he couldn't find the Faerie Prince in sight.

Was the military general toying with him just so that Apollyon could quit getting holed up inside the Ivory Tower like a voluntary prisoner and actually talk to people?

Was the Faerie Prince even here?

Clearing his throat, Apollyon adjusted the back of his robes before sitting down as he waited for the Faerie Prince to appear.

He hadn't bathed himself for two sennights, but vampires rarely reek of sweat.

He shall not care if he smelled like roses or rotten meat right now.

It wasn't like the Faerie Prince would be near enough to scent him.

He would not care if Prince Aspen had a sensitive sense of smell, either.

Apollyon's couldn't help but doze off as he waited with his head cradled in one hand, his elbow resting on the armrest.

Alerted by the murder of crows coming out of the window, his eyes narrowed to slits when they gathered into the single chair positioned in front of him.

Prince Aspen had arrived in his golden chariot the first time, so Apollyon shouldn't be surprised when he pulled off something like this.

Apollyon waited until they morphed into Prince Aspen's androgynous beauty with his long auburn hair, which was a stark contrast to his bulky physique.

Aspen wore a black hooded cloak, which was also a paradox to his leaf-green faerie wings.

He minutely shook his head as he changed his stance, propping his head up with the other fist.

Apollyon didn't even stand and pay respects to the Prince even if he had placed a fist over his heart and bowed his head in a greeting.

Apollyon bit his cheek and shrugged in nonchalance.

People who disturbed his peace don't deserve his courtesy.

He had deeply regretted telling Prince Aspen about Luna's soul being taken by Archdemons.

Apollyon had asked for the Faerie Prince's help, which he couldn't even provide.

It was a mistake—a slip of his emotions and a moment of weakness.

Apollyon clenched his fists every time he was reminded of it.

Never again.

He didn't waste time.

"What brought you here, Prince Aspen?" He asked impatiently, but still, he  pretended like his long nails had interested him more than the Fae's unexpected visit.  "Are you returning the candidate that you have taken home to the Fae Realm from my Consortium?"

"Trouble is brewing in the Fae Realms, cousin."