Caged By the Lich

1. Astrid

1

ASTRID

I glide through the gilded halls of Father's mansion, my midnight blue gown whispering against the polished marble floors. The air thrums with the low murmur of conversation and the clink of crystal glasses.

Demon nobles crowd the space, their horns and sharp features a stark reminder of my otherness. The scent of exotic spices and fire hangs heavy in the air, a heady mixture that never fails to make my head spin.

"Lady Astrid." A volvath demon bows, his crimson eyes gleaming like fresh blood. "How... delightful to see you this evening."

I paste on a smile, ignoring the slight pause before 'delightful.' The contempt in his voice is barely concealed, but I've grown accustomed to such thinly veiled insults. "Lord Vexus. I trust you're enjoying the festivities?"

"Oh, indeed." He takes a sip of his drink, some viscous black liquid that makes my stomach turn. The way it clings to his sharp teeth reminds me of tar. "Your father's taste is, as always, impeccable. Though I must say, his choice in... companions remains questionable."

I nod, scanning the room for an escape. A matron demon catches my eye, her lips curling into a sneer that reveals needle-like teeth. I straighten my spine, refusing to wilt under her gaze. My fingers itch to reach for the dagger hidden beneath my skirts, the knife I always keep strapped to my right thigh, but I resist the urge.

"If you'll excuse me," I murmur to Lord Vexus, not waiting for a response before gliding away. His chuckle follows me, grating on my nerves like sandpaper.

I weave through the crowd, exchanging nods and brief pleasantries. The demons part before me, some out of respect for my father's position, others out of distaste for my human blood. Their whispers follow me like a shadow, a constant reminder of my place in this world.

"Can you believe Ilreth lets her attend these functions?"

"Well, what can you expect from a human? They're barely more than animals."

"At least she's not as hopeless as her sister. That one's a lost cause."

I clench my jaw, keeping my expression neutral. Years of practice have honed my ability to appear unaffected by their barbs, but each word still stings like acid on my skin. I snag a flute from a passing server, grateful for something to occupy my hands. The bubbles dance on my tongue, a momentary distraction from the sea of hostility surrounding me.

As I navigate the crowded room, a commotion in a secluded corner catches my eye. A hulking demon lord, his horns twisted like gnarled branches, looms over a trembling human servant girl. The stench of alcohol wafts from him, mixing with the acrid scent of fear emanating from the girl.

"C'mere, pretty thing," he slurs, grabbing her wrist. "Don't you wanna have some fun?"

The girl's eyes dart around frantically, searching for help. My blood boils, and before I can think twice, I'm striding towards them.

"Lord Kravix," I call out, my voice sharp as a blade. "I suggest you unhand her immediately."

The demon's head snaps up, his yellow eyes narrowing as they focus on me. "Well, if it isn't Ilreth's little pet. Run along, girl. This doesn't concern you."

I plant myself between him and the servant, my chin raised defiantly. "I'm afraid it does. As a guest in my father's home, you're expected to behave with a certain level of decorum. Harassing the staff falls decidedly short of that expectation."

Kravix's face contorts with rage, his sharp teeth bared in a snarl. "You dare speak to me like that, human? I could crush you with one hand."

"You could try," I retort, my hand inching towards the hidden dagger. "But I doubt my father would appreciate you manhandling his daughter. Now, step away from the girl."

The demon hesitates, his alcohol-addled mind struggling to process the situation. I can see the moment he realizes he's cornered. With a growl, he releases the servant's wrist.

I turn to the girl, keeping Kravix in my peripheral vision. "Are you alright?"

She nods, her eyes wide with a mixture of fear and gratitude. "Y-yes, my lady. Thank you."

"Go to the kitchens and stay there for the rest of the night," I instruct her softly. She doesn't need to be told twice, scurrying away like a mouse fleeing a cat.

By now, our confrontation has drawn attention. Demons crowd around us, their expressions ranging from amusement to disgust. I can hear their whispers, feel their judgment pressing in on me like a physical weight.

"Defending a human servant? How quaint."

"She forgets her place. Ilreth should keep her on a tighter leash."

I ignore them, focusing on Kravix. He's swaying slightly, his eyes narrowed as he stares at me, clearly drunk and humiliated. "This isn't over, girl," he hisses.

"I believe it is," I reply coolly. "Unless you'd like me to inform my father of your behavior?"

The threat hangs in the air between us. Kravix's eyes dart around, taking in the audience we've attracted. With a final snarl, he pushes past me, shouldering his way through the crowd.

As the spectators disperse, their gazes linger on me. I've made a statement tonight, one that will undoubtedly have consequences. But seeing the relief on that servant girl's face, I can't bring myself to regret it.

But I need a minute alone after that.

I slip away from the oppressive atmosphere of the ballroom, seeking a moment of solitude. My feet carry me to a secluded balcony, the cool night air a welcome relief against my flushed skin. As I step out, I spot a familiar figure leaning against the ornate railing.

"Athena," I breathe, tension easing from my shoulders.

My sister turns, her golden curls catching the moonlight. Her eyes, so similar to mine yet warmer, soften as they land on me. "Rough night?"

I snort, joining her at the railing. "When isn't it?"

Athena's hand finds mine, squeezing gently. "I saw what happened with Lord Kravix. That was brave of you."

"It was stupid," I mutter, gazing out at the sprawling demon city below. Red-tinged clouds drift across the perpetually crimson sky, casting eerie shadows. "I've probably made things worse for both of us."

"You stood up for someone who needed help," Athena argues. "That's never stupid."

I shake my head, frustration bubbling up inside me. "It is when it paints an even bigger target on our backs. You know how they see us, Thena. We're barely tolerated as it is."

"Maybe we don't have to be," Athena says softly, her voice barely above a whisper.

I turn to her, brow furrowed. "What do you mean?"

Athena glances over her shoulder, ensuring we're alone. "I've been... looking into things. There might be a way for us to leave. To find somewhere we actually belong."

"Leave?" I hiss, shock and anger warring within me. "Are you insane? This is our home, Athena. Father-"

"Isn't our real father," she cuts me off, her usually gentle eyes flashing with determination. "He's protected us, yes, but at what cost? We'll never truly be accepted here, Astrid. You know that as well as I do."

I pull away from her, crossing my arms. "So what, we just abandon everything? Throw away everything Father's done for us?"

Athena sighs, reaching for me again. "That's not what I'm saying. I'm just... I'm tired of feeling like we don't belong anywhere. Aren't you?"

Her words hit too close to home, and I turn away, unable to meet her gaze. Of course I'm tired. Exhausted, even. But the thought of leaving, of giving up... it feels like admitting defeat.

Besides, where would I go?

"We can't just run away from our problems," I argue weakly.

"It's not running away," Athena insists. "It's finding our own path. Don't you want to know what it's like to live somewhere we're not constantly looking over our shoulders?"

I close my eyes, memories of countless slights and insults washing over me. The constant struggle to prove myself, to be seen as more than just a human pet. It's tempting, the idea of escaping it all.

But then I think of Father, of the risks he's taken to raise us. Of the power he's built to protect us. How can we just walk away from that?

"It's not that simple," I say finally, opening my eyes to meet Athena's gaze. "We can't just-"

The balcony doors swing open, cutting off our conversation. We both stiffen, turning to face whoever's intruding on our private moment.

Two demon nobles stumble onto the balcony, their laughter cutting through our tense conversation. I grab Athena's arm, steering her back inside. "Come on, we should return to the party."

We slip back into the grand hall, the oppressive heat and noise washing over us. I'm about to suggest we find Father when the atmosphere suddenly shifts.

The lively music falters, the string instruments screeching to an abrupt halt. Conversations die mid-sentence, replaced by a hushed silence that spreads like wildfire through the crowd.

I exchange a worried glance with Athena, her golden-green eyes wide with concern. Something's wrong. Very wrong.

We push through the throng of demons, their usual disdain for us forgotten in the face of whatever has captured their attention. The crowd parts, and I finally see what's caused the disturbance.

It's a soz'garoth demon standing in the center of the room, a dark and magnetic presence that commands attention. His pale blue skin seems to glow in the dim light, a stark contrast to the dark black of his outfit. His spiky hair crackles with barely contained magical energy, casting eerie shadows across his sharp features.

But it's his eyes that truly captivate me. They shift and swirl, a kaleidoscope of colors that seem to be reminiscent of his power. At least, that’s what it looks like, magic flickering in the depth. Right now, they're a stormy gray, flecked with bolts of electric blue – dangerous, unpredictable.

I know this demon. He's been my father's long time rival.

Olvaar.

Olvaar's gaze sweeps the room, and for a heart-stopping moment, it seems to land on me. But maybe that’s just my fear of him noticing me. A smirk tugs at the corner of his mouth, and I should look away, should get away from the room. But for some reason, I can't.

I've heard stories about Father's rival, whispered rumors of his cruelty and ambition, but nothing could have prepared me for the raw power emanating from him.

The crowd seems to hold its breath, waiting to see what Olvaar will do next. Even the most powerful demons in the room look uneasy, their usual arrogance replaced by wary respect – or is it fear?

I grip Athena's hand tightly, my other hand inching towards the hidden dagger beneath my skirts. Whatever Olvaar's doing here, it can't be good. My eyes dart around the room, searching for Father.

We need to find him. Now.