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“You don’t know how old you are?”

He shrugged.

“I’ve stopped counting. So, it’s up to you. And you?”

“What about me?”

“Your age.”

“Eighteen years old.”

Once again, he choked on his food.

“You’re just a baby!”

He grabbed his cup to fill it with red wine and drained it in one gulp. I watched him pour himself another.

“I’m not a baby. Or a child.”

His eyes lowered briefly to my chest.

“Yes, indeed,” he then muttered.

He tried to hide his amused grin by raising the cup to his lips while I furiously readjusted my shawl.

“I was talking about responsibilities,” I explained.

“Yes, yes.”

“I am serious!”

“I know. Massim mentioned it. You helped your father administer the kingdom.”

I opened my mouth to contend, but his last comment cut me off dead in my tracks. I pursed my lips, just long enough to think about what I was going to ask him, and more importantly, how.

“Are you against this?”

Dovah raised an inquisitive eyebrow.

“Against what?”

“For a woman to take on the responsibilities of a man.”

“You mean do a man’s job?”

I nodded, then waited nervously for his reply. He studied me for a moment before speaking again.

“To be honest, before you, I’d never asked myself that question.”

“Well? You do have an opinion on the subject!” I pressed, impatiently.

“I would say this: if that’s what she wants and she proves herself competent, why not? For me, it’s only the results that matter. How you get there is just that, a means to an end.”

At least one thing seemed to be looking up with this situation. I was better at managing land than knitting shawls.

“You look happy. Did I say something right?”

I nodded again, unable to supress the smile that stretched across my face. I wasn’t a conventional wife, and the idea that he wasn’t against my deepest aspirations gave me some hope for the future.

“Is it the idea of working that puts you in such a state of joy?”

I burst out laughing, a laugh that I immediately stifled by pressing my napkin against my mouth. I didn’t know how he managed to be funny and make me smile when I wanted to hate him with all my soul.

“When you put it that way, it sounds strange.”

My gaze met his. He was lighting that thing he called a cigar again.

“I’ll give you all the work you want, if it’ll make you smile like you just did,” he promised, before setting the cigar ablaze with a tiny splintered stick covered in sulfur that he struck against a stone.

“Is this your, uh, medication?”

“Yes, it’s a drug that clouds my mind and stops me from killing everyone I look at,” he said flatly, as if he were talking about the rain and shine.

“I...I see.”

A heavy silence fell between us as he drew a long puff of blue smoke.

“You have nothing to fear.”

“You’ve just told me that you absorb this...thing to avoid killing. That means you were feeling the urge to slaughter innocent people, right?” I snapped, cursing myself for trembling like a leaf.

Dovah didn’t answer immediately.

“Strangely enough, when I’m with you, I don’t really feel like ‘slaughtering innocents,’ as you put it. It’s just that...I don’t know. I live in constant fear of losing control, so I work on the principle that prevention is better than cure. That’s all there is to it.”

Is that all? That’s all, that’s all!

“If the smoke bothers you, I can step outside.”

I looked up at him again with the firm intention of scolding him, but something in his eyes stopped me. A kind of sincerity tinged with sadness. An immense weight on his soul.

“It doesn’t bother me that much,” I end up muttering, irritated.

Why was I incapable of being angry at this man?

I should have hated him so vehemently! Yet I smiled stupidly at his jokes, even started to feel compassion for him.

Compassion for the man who killed my father!

Did he have magical powers? Had he bewitched me, just like those black drawings on his skin?

It wasn’t part of our culture in Muvaria. Magic. Sorcery. We had body healers and spiritual healers, but that was as far as it went. My father was against all those old beliefs, and I had grown up without them.

Just as I was about to grab an apple for dessert, he beat me to it.

“I’ll do it.”

I stared at him for a moment without saying a word.

“Are you trying to be gallant?”

A crooked smile curved the natural fold of his lips.

“Yes. It’s quite rare, so appreciate your good fortune.”

He pulled out a huge hunting knife to peel the apple. My eyes widened.

“Are you afraid the apple might revolt if the blade is smaller?”

“It’s only very sharp,” he laughed.

“Enough to slice a mountain bear into thin slices, yes, I imagine.”

He glanced at me briefly, still smiling.

“I don’t need a knife to kill a mountain bear. I don’t need any weapons, in fact.”

What could I say to that? I simply watched him peel the fruit with a skill that commanded respect. Were I to imitate him, I’d certainly have cut off several fingers. The meal ended on that note.

If I was beginning to get used to seeing him shirtless in front of me—well, ‘getting used to’ was a bit of an exaggeration to describe that feeling—when it came time for bed, my anxiety spiked. He eventually realized this, but kept his expression neutral and said:

“I’m warning you, Ashana. I’m not going to sleep on the floor.”

I sent him a pleading look.

“You’re my wife now. We sleep together, period. If I agree to leave you alone tonight, you’ll find an excuse for the next night and the night after that. It’s going to be a never-ending story. You might as well get used to it right away.”

His tone was final. With a heavy heart, I settled under the sheets, laying at the edge of the bed.

“Ashana, I promised I wouldn’t force you. Just relax.”

“I’ll have you know I’ve never shared my bed with a man. How do you expect me to relax?” I retorted as he settled in beside me.

“Well, I kept my pants on, so that should help.”

I turned my head sharply in his direction.

“I wonder how!”

He shrugged.

“I usually sleep naked. I thought I was showing some, uh, delicacy?”

Worst of all, he seemed sincere! He wasn’t even joking!

“My lord is too good. His generosity will be his downfall.”

I was flabbergasted. Literally. This time, he caught the sarcasm and, instead of taking offense, he responded with a broad smile and gave me a wink.

“I know. But what can I say? I can’t help myself, can I?”

With that, he lay back with a contented sigh, while I remained staring at him, dumbfounded. With his arms crossed under his neck, he closed his eyes. For my part, I stubbornly stayed far away on my side of the bed, even if it meant falling on the floor during the night.

Eventually, however, I fell asleep. Admittedly, in the exact position I’d been in before I dozed off, which proved just how unsettled I was. I imagined that, in such a state of nerves, it was normal that the slightest noise or movement in the room would wake me up. Which was the case.

I suddenly opened my eyes to the darkness that reigned the room.

The candle had burned out, but I could still make out his tall, broad-shouldered silhouette.

He stood there, near the bed, motionless.

When I opened my mouth to ask him if everything was alright, he swivelled round abruptly, and what I saw rendered me speechless with fright.

His eyes. His eyes were a luminescent red split by a vertical pupil, as if lit from within.

Does he see me? Does he know I’m awake? My heart began to pound.

Fingers clenched on the sheet, I realized he was about to approach me, so I quickly shut my eyes, hoping to give the illusion I was still asleep.

Who was Dovah, really? Was he even human?

I’d never have thought the nickname Black Demon could be true!

I then felt the warmth of his breath on my face. It carried the scent of his cigar. A harsh scent of leather, camphor, and iodine. I waited. I waited a long time. Even after his breath had disappeared from my face.

Slowly, with the unpleasant feeling that my heart wanted to burst from my chest, I opened my eyes again. He was gone. I was completely alone. I stood up cautiously, then walked over to the window and gently parted one of the curtains. Nothing and no one, apart from a few horses in the courtyard.

Maybe he’s still in the corridor , I thought.

Trying to make as little noise as possible, I made my way to the door, then, with great care, turned the knob.

I held my breath before daring a quick glance through the crack.

Nothing there either. Except two guards chatting and laughing in hushed tones. Where did he go? To do what?

Had I imagined his red eyes?

I returned to bed. In his absence, I sprawled out a bit more.

The pillow he’d laid his head on still smelled of his perfume.

There was a note of iris, cedar, and vetiver.

I took a long breath. It was a pleasant smell.

Much more so than the cigar. And the strangest thing was, against my better judgment, there was something reassuring about smelling this scent. As if it had the power to protect me.

I must have been mistaken. A nocturnal illusion, like a nightmare. Given the day I’d had, it wouldn’t have been surprising, would it? Not to mention that monsters only existed in children’s stories. I’d grown up in a rational country.

To my shame, I fell back asleep, my nose pressed against Dovah’s perfumed pillow.

Later, still in the night, I reopened my eyes to find him beside me. This time, he smelled of earth and blood. I surreptitiously crept closer to him to check whether he had any on him or on his clothes, but it was hard to be sure with so little light.

Suddenly, his arm grabbed me and pulled me close to him. I let out a cry of surprise and fear. In response, he mumbled a few incomprehensible words, yet he made no move to release me. No matter how hard I wriggled, I couldn’t get him to let go.