Chương 57: Chapter 55 - Princess Wixx!?

They had arrived back at the inn by the just before the afternoon, and Ivy's outfit had already been delivered while they were busy assigning jobs at the guild.

"I still don't get it," Ivy sighed as she set the folded clothes down on the bed.

"I understand donating the money to the orphanage. Fine. That part makes sense." She glanced back at Chelsea.

"What I don't understand is why you're doing it anonymously."

"Well, let me ask…" Chelsea stopped abruptly and pointed at the outfit instead.

"Actually, before this conversation continues, put those on first. The clothes should raise your Charisma enough that my skill won't affect you." She continued while Ivy started unbuttoning her guild shirt.

"Why do you think I donate the money?"

"That part's obvious," Ivy replied.

"You want to help people who need it." Chelsea nodded approvingly, though she still blushed slightly when Ivy pulled the shirt over her head. She firmly ignored how insanely pretty this elf was.

"Exactly," she said, forcing herself back on track.

"Do I really need them to thank me personally? I'm not doing it for praise. I'm doing it because it helps them." She tilted her head thoughtfully.

"There are other reasons too, but that's the altruistic answer I'm choosing."

"Such as?" Ivy asked while lifting the new dress over her head. Chelsea stepped closer before she could butcher the bodice lacing.

"Well, for starters, I'm apparently the highest-ranking merchant in the kingdom." She tugged gently at the strings until the it sat properly.

"If I really wanted to be charitable in a public way, I should buy the orphanage building outright, renovate the entire thing, hire better staff, and dump enough gold into their accounts that they never have to worry about food again."

"Ah," Ivy said slowly while Chelsea straightened the sleeves.

"That… actually does make sense." She continued getting dressed while Chelsea watched with folded arms, occasionally stepping in to fix something before she could do it wrong. The dress was exactly what chelsea imagined for Ivy. It was a deep emerald green with subtle gold embroidery curling along the bodice, sleeves, and layered skirt, elegant without looking overly extravagant. The fitted upper half emphasized Ivy's slender frame while the lower layers flowed naturally around her legs whenever she moved.

Combined with delicate gold jewelry Maggie had apparently included with the outfit, it suited Ivy alarmingly well. Chelsea stared for a second too long.

"Ivy, you're…" She paused, face warming again.

"Beautiful," she finally settled on.

"Try the shoes too." Ivy laughed softly while sitting down to slip them on. Once she finished, Chelsea walked over and placed her hand beside Ivy's temple. Ivy leaned into it slightly without even seeming to realize she was doing it. Chelsea checked her stats.

"Okay," she announced.

"Twelve Charisma. That means mine needs to stay at one hundred nineteen or lower to avoid triggering anything dangerous."

"Chelsea," Ivy sighed, "you worry too much. I'm not going to randomly fall in love with you."

"I don't think you understand how horrifying this skill actually is," Chelsea replied immediately.

"Just having higher Charisma already nudges people into finding me more attractive. Once it reaches fifteen times your own…" She grimaced.

"It's not really a choice anymore." Ivy looked up at Chelsea, "You've put an absurd amount of thought into your abilities."

"I kind of have to," Chelsea muttered. After another ten minutes of indecisively sorting through dresses, Chelsea finally settled on the dark blue one with the black underskirt. She started with the shoes first. Surprisingly, they barely changed. The shape refined slightly, maybe becoming sleeker and more elegant, but nowhere near the dramatic transformations she'd seen before.

"Huh," she muttered.

"Maybe the next rarity tier changes accessories more." Then she slipped the dress on. The transformation spread across it almost instantly. The original design vanished beneath dark blue fabric embroidered with intricate black and sapphire lacework that climbed across the entire bodice in elegant curling patterns.

The skirt flowed more naturally now, layered and refined in a way that reminded Chelsea less of a provocative fantasy outfit and more of something someone would actually wear to an extravagant formal event back on Earth. It looked less like tavern temptation and more like prom royalty. Chelsea stared down at herself uncertainly.

"I don't know if I like this one," she admitted. Ivy, meanwhile, looked completely stunned.

"Chelsea," she said quietly, "you look like a queen." Chelsea immediately checked her stats. Then groaned.

"Thirty eight Charisma." Ivy laughed.

"That's bad?"

"Sort of. It means if I only wear the dress and shoes and I talk to any man, if they have eleven charisma or less, they could fall in love with me. And if they have seven or less, I could turn them into a love thrall." She sighed dramatically before looking at herself in the mirror again. Then she smirked.

"Honestly, though? I kind of wish Easton would walk through that door right now." Ivy snorted.

"Why?" Chelsea's grin widened wickedly.

"He'd become my first thrall."

"Chelsea, is that a new dress?" Bea asked the moment she saw her. Her eyes widened dramatically as she leaned halfway across the table for a better look at the dark blue gown. Between the elegant lacework, the layered skirt, and the way the fabric hugged Chelsea's figure before flowing naturally downward, the transformation from its original design was impossible to miss Before Chelsea could answer, Ivy spoke up from beside her.

"Chelsea's decided she isn't allowed to talk around Dewey, Edgar, or Mr. Pete while her charisma is so high," she explained.

"And no, it's not a new dress." Bea's expression immediately twisted like she had bitten into something sour.

"Who the fuck is Mr. Pete?"

"That would be me!" a cheerful male voice called from somewhere inside the kitchen. Everyone turned toward the doorway. Despite staying at the inn for several days now, none of them had actually met Marie's husband. He had become something closer to a mythological figure who existed entirely behind swinging kitchen doors alongside the smell of fresh bread and roasted meat. Bea grimaced.

"Oh," she said hesitantly.

"Sorry about that!" A laugh drifted out from the kitchen. A moment later Marie emerged carrying a tray of mugs. Her warm smile immediately softened further when she saw the duo dressed for the afternoon.

"Well now," she said approvingly, "don't you two look elegant."

"Thank you, Miss Marie," Ivy replied politely. Then, after glancing toward Chelsea, she added, "Thank you from both of us." Marie's eyes shifted toward Chelsea knowingly.

"And thank you, Miss Chelsea, for being considerate of Pete and me." Chelsea gave her a nod along with a closed mouth smile. Bea looked between them in confusion.

"Why can't she talk around the kitchen man?"

"Because," Ivy answered before Chelsea could, "she apparently says thank you and sorry to literally everyone and doesn't want to make him fall in love with her by accident." Chelsea started vigorously shaking her head to refute that claim. Bea snorted.

"You apologized to a chair yesterday after bumping into it." Chelsea rolled her eyes, keeping her silence up. Before the argument could continue, Adriane descended the stairs. Compared to Chelsea's transformed dress, Adriane's outfit looked almost plain. It was elegant enough for nobility, but in a practical way that suited her. Deep blue fabric, fitted properly, durable enough that she still looked like someone who could kill a monster on the way to dinner and not be particularly inconvenienced by it.

Chelsea had already learned that Adriane usually met kings wearing leather armor, so the fact she had agreed to wear an actual dress at all apparently counted as formal effort. A carriage arrived outside shortly afterward. The driver stepped down immediately and opened the door for them with practiced professionalism. Adriane entered first, followed by Ivy, then Chelsea with a careful adjustment of her wings so she did not accidentally smack anyone in the face.

The moment the carriage door shut behind them, Chelsea slumped backward dramatically against the seat.

"I need both of you to appreciate how difficult it was for me not to thank the driver six separate times for helping me into this carriage." Ivy furrowed her brows thoughtfully as the carriage lurched forward.

"You really do say 'thank you' a lot," she admitted after a moment.

"Like… constantly, actually." Chelsea placed a hand over her heart.

"Aww, Ivy. Thank you for noticing." Ivy rolled her eyes, though the smile tugging at her mouth ruined any attempt at annoyance.

"So what exactly is happening today?" Chelsea asked. Adriane answered this time.

"More than likely, the king simply wants to meet me personally. We'll have an audience, exchange formalities, and then one of two things will happen."

"We either leave afterward," Adriane continued calmly, "or there will be a formal ball held in my honor."

"A formal ball!?" Ivy and Chelsea exclaimed simultaneously. Adriane blinked once.

"Yes."

"Chelsea," Ivy said slowly, turning toward her, "you failed to mention the possibility of a royal ball."

"Because I didn't know!" Chelsea shot back immediately.

"Adriane keeps springing terrifying information on me." Chelsea straightened abruptly as a far more horrifying thought struck her.

"Wait." She turned toward Adriane with visible alarm.

"Are we expected to dance?" Adriane looked genuinely confused by the concern."Probably?" Chelsea's entire body sagged."Oh no."

"You cannot possibly be that bad," Ivy said. Chelsea slowly turned toward her.

"I once got yelled at during Zumba day in P. E. because I moved like a frightened forklift. I am truly horrendous." Ivy stared at her for several seconds before laughing hard enough that she had to cover her mouth.

"I don't know what any of that is but that explanation somehow made sense."

"Horrendous?" Adriane repeated with an amused smile slowly spreading across her face.

"I don't think that's a word, Chels."

"Adriane," Chelsea grumped, sinking lower into her seat. Unauthorized use: this story is on Amazon without permission from the author. Report any sightings.

"What?" Adriane laughed lightly.

"You'll do fine. Besides, I doubt anyone there will actually ask the demon to dance." She paused deliberately while looking Chelsea up and down.

"The beautiful, elegant, sweet-looking, absurdly charismatic demon," she corrected herself.

"Oh. Actually, maybe you should be worried." Chelsea immediately buried her face in her hands and let out a groan.

"What if I meet the elf man of my dreams today?" she groaned dramatically through her fingers.

"Oh!" She dove for her pouch. The worn leather thing looked hilariously out of place beside the elegant gown, but at this point it had become such a permanent part of Chelsea that none of them even questioned it anymore. After a few seconds of digging, she triumphantly pulled out two tattered strips of fabric and an elaborate silver necklace that looked like someone had repeatedly attacked it with a hammer. Ivy stared at the collection.

"That looks like garbage."

"It is garbage," Chelsea replied proudly. She slipped the strips of fabric over her hands first. The moment they touched her skin, the transformation spread through them. The frayed scraps became elegant evening gloves that matched the deep blue of her dress perfectly, climbing smoothly past her elbows with delicate black embroidery curling along the edges. Then she fastened the necklace loosely around her neck. The battered silver twisted and reshaped itself into something stunning.

Dark sapphire gemstones formed along the chain while the warped metal refined into intricate silverwork that rested elegantly against her collarbone. Ivy stared openly.

"That is ridiculous." Chelsea checked her stats immediately.

"Perfect," she announced with satisfaction.

"Forty-eight Charisma." Ivy nearly choked.

"What?" Chelsea was already doing math in her head.

"That means when talking to men I should effectively have…" She barely paused for a second.

"One hundred forty-four Charisma." Silence filled the carriage. Even Adriane looked mildly alarmed.

"That," Adriane said carefully, "is a stupid amount of Charisma." Chelsea nodded proudly.

"I'm expecting my first thrall notification today." Adriane's expression immediately went serious.

"Chelsea."

"Relax," Chelsea replied quickly, holding up both hands.

"I'm not going to create a collection of sexy noble slave boys." She paused thoughtfully.

"Probably."

"Chelsea."

"I'm joking!" she laughed.

"Mostly. I just want to keep my options open."

"You are not marrying some random noble elf man you meet at a ball," Adriane informed her flatly.

"Besides, elves probably taste better than humans."

"Actually," Ivy cut in awkwardly, "we already tested that." Adriane slowly turned toward her.

"You what?" Her eyebrows twisted in disgust.

"She wanted to see if elves tasted edible," Ivy explained.

"Apparently we don't." Chelsea nodded seriously.

"I think it's the vegetarian diet." Adriane shook her head and looked back out of the carriage window. The rest of the ride passed surprisingly quickly. Chelsea spent most of it deliberately refusing to look directly at Ivy while continuing conversations around her instead.

"So anyway," Chelsea said while staring very intensely out the opposite window, "if there is dancing today, I need both of you to understand I move like an injured deer trying to escape a grease fire."

"It can't be that bad," Ivy replied.

"You haven't seen it." The carriage finally slowed before coming to a smooth stop. Chelsea immediately straightened. The nerves she had been successfully suppressing all ride suddenly came crashing down on her at once. Her stomach tightened as she stared out the window toward the castle entrance illuminated by rows of golden lanterns. Guards stood at attention beside massive doors while nobles and servants moved through the entrance in elegant streams of silk and velvet.

"Oh gods," she whispered.

"There are so many important people in there." Chelsea was already trying to come up with excuses as to why she couldn't dance without making it seem like she couldn't dance. The driver opened the carriage door. He helped Adriane down first, then Ivy. Finally he offered a hand toward Chelsea. She accepted it carefully while stepping out onto the stone path.

"Thank y…" Would you like to force the target to become your love thrall? Y/N Chelsea froze mid-word. The older driver stared up at her with wide, adoring eyes. Chelsea sighed deeply.

"No," she muttered under her breath while mentally dismissing the notification. The driver continued looking at her like she had personally descended from the heavens to bless his evening. Chelsea immediately turned and speed-walked toward the stairs.

"I hate this ability," she complained.

"It just tried to make the carriage driver into my thrall."

"You should probably remove the jewelry then," Adriane suggested reasonably.

"They may have been a little much," Chelsea admitted with a nod. She quickly removed both the necklace and gloves while climbing the staircase, stuffing them back into her pouch before they reached the top. By the time they arrived at the entrance, her Charisma had thankfully dropped back into merely dangerous territory instead of world-ending. Waiting for them at the top of the stairs stood an older man dressed in immaculate black formalwear with silver trim.

He had the posture and expression of someone who had spent decades perfecting the art of judging people while making it seem like he wasn't judging people. Two armored guards stood beside the doors behind him. The butler's calm professional demeanor lasted exactly until his eyes landed on Chelsea's horns and wings. Because somehow the demon girl standing beside the legendary Silver Sword looked less threatening and more… elegant.

"Welcome, Miss Wixx," the butler said with a polite bow as the trio reached the top of the stairs. His composure had mostly recovered from the brief confusion Chelsea caused, though his eyes still lingered on her horns for half a second too long.

"Might I ask the names of your two guests?" Adriane gave their names calmly. The butler nodded once.

"Very good. I do apologize, however, but palace policy requires all bags and pouches to be inspected before entry. Unauthorized weapons are not permitted inside the castle." He gestured politely toward one of the guards.

"If you would please reveal the contents of your belongings." Chelsea immediately tensed. Her pouch currently contained several broken armor pieces, a stick that's totally not a spear, random sentimental garbage, and a small collection of ethically acquired human organs. This was not an ideal situation.

"Before anyone gets upset," Chelsea said cautiously, "I should probably mention that I do have some human organs in my bag." The butler stared at her. The nearby guard slowly looked toward him. The butler looked slowly back toward the guard. The guard responded with the smallest shrug imaginable, the universal expression of 'I genuinely do not know how to proceed here.'

"Miss Wixx," the butler said carefully, "may I ask why you possess human organs?"

"It's what I eat," Chelsea explained brightly while tapping one of her horns.

"Being a demon and all." Then her eyes widened slightly.

"Oh! But I'm not going to eat anyone here." Adriane closed her eyes briefly.

"No," Chelsea hurried onward before anyone could respond, "I mean I brought the organs specifically so I wouldn't get hungry. Not that being hungry would make me suddenly try to eat somebody. That sounded worse when I said it out loud."

"Chels," Adriane interrupted firmly before the spiral could continue.

"It's what she eats. That's all." The butler stared at Chelsea for a few seconds longer before deciding, quite professionally, that this was apparently above his pay grade.

"Understood," he said at last. The guard stepped forward to inspect the bags. Ivy's was simple enough. Adriane's contained exactly the sort of terrifying collection of practical weapons the guard likely expected from an S-ranker. Then he opened Chelsea's pouch. His eyebrows climbed higher and higher the longer he looked inside.

"Thirty-slot pouch?" he asked in disbelief.

"And it's completely full of…" He frowned.

"…junk." Chelsea gasped like he had personally insulted her.

"It is not junk," she declared immediately.

"They're extremely sentimental treasures." The guard pulled out what appeared to be a broken spoon wrapped carefully beside several cracked armor fragments and a suspicious amount of cloth strips. Chelsea reached protectively toward the pouch.

"Please be gentle with my um… stuff." Ivy made a choking noise beside her that sounded dangerously close to laughter. Thankfully, the guard seemed too confused to ask further questions about the pouch itself. After the inspection finished, the butler finally motioned for them to follow him inside. The moment Chelsea crossed the threshold into the castle proper, she nearly forgot how to walk. The entryway was breathtaking. Unlike the cold, oppressive stone fortress of the other kingdom, this castle felt alive.

Warm golden lighting reflected softly off polished marble floors while elegant chandeliers cast gentle light across carefully arranged potted plants and ornate pillars. Decorative trim lined the walls in tasteful silver and deep green instead of gaudy gold. It looked expensive without trying to scream opulence. Chelsea immediately leaned toward Adriane and whispered, "Can I live here? I want to live here."

"Hush," Adriane murmured without looking at her. They were guided through a set of massive carved doors and into the throne room itself. Chelsea's first thought was that the room was gorgeous. Her second thought was that it was strategically terrible. The throne room sat disturbingly close to the entrance. If the castle were ever attacked, invading forces could push dangerously far inward before meeting meaningful resistance.

Thanks to late night youtube rabbit holes, Chelsea mentally noted at least six structural flaws before remembering she was supposed to be nervous right now. And nervous she became. There were easily a hundred people gathered inside the chamber. Nobles stood arranged in neat sections along both sides of a long carpet leading toward the raised throne platform, almost like guests attending a royal wedding.

Rich fabrics, jewelry, polished armor, and elaborate hairstyles filled the room with color and movement as conversations gradually died down upon the trio's arrival. Every eye turned toward them. Chelsea's heart began hammering hard enough she could feel it in her throat. The king sat at the center of the raised platform beside the queen, both dressed in elegant formalwear rather than excessive displays of wealth.

Seated slightly lower on either side of them were two younger figures, a man and a woman, likely their children. The butler stepped forward and announced them clearly.

"King Juice, may I present Miss Adriane Wixx, Miss Chelsea Wixx, and Miss Ivy Leaf." The room immediately erupted into quiet murmuring. Chelsea's stomach dropped. She couldn't make out specific words, only scattered whispers and shifting voices echoing throughout the chamber.

"Oh gods," she whispered under her breath.

"Did I already do something wrong?"

"Miss Wixx," the king began warmly. Then he glanced toward Adriane specifically.

"Adriane," he clarified, "allow me to formally welcome someone of your status to our humble kingdom. I have received confirmation that the Wixx Family has officially chosen to establish residence within our borders."

"Yes, Your Majesty," Adriane replied. Then, to Chelsea's horror, Adriane gestured toward her.

"Please allow the youngest of the Wixx family to speak on my behalf. I am not especially gifted at speaking where she…uh" Adriane paused briefly.

"…is." Chelsea's soul nearly left her body. The king's attention shifted toward her fully now, and Chelsea suddenly understood why prey animals froze in front of predators.

"This is Chelsea Wixx," the king said thoughtfully while rubbing at his neatly trimmed beard.

"The very same Chelsea Wixx who recently became a three-star A-rank merchant?"

"Yes, Your Majesty," Chelsea replied with a careful curtsy.

"I am the very same. It is a pleasure to make your acquaintance." The king's eyebrows lifted slightly.

"Polite," he mused.

"Incredibly polite. You truly are an unusual demon, aren't you, Miss Wixx?" Chelsea let out a small polite laugh.

"I have been told that once or twice, Your Majesty." While speaking, Chelsea's eyes drifted briefly toward the young man seated near the throne. Something about him seemed familiar. Not familiar in the sense that she knew him personally, but familiar enough to itch at the back of her mind. Blond hair, sharp posture, carefully composed expression Where had she seen him before?

"The Wixx Family," the king continued, "is an impressive entity. Powerful, influential, and important to the future of this kingdom." He looked back toward Adriane.

"Miss Adriane Wixx, as a gesture of goodwill, I would like to offer the Wixx Family a gift from the crown." Chelsea immediately became suspicious.

"You will receive a lord's manor, along with its surrounding estate." the king said calmly, as if gifting mansions was a perfectly normal daily occurrence.

"My steward will contact Miss Chelsea Wixx regarding available estates for your selection." Chelsea's heart nearly stopped. A manor… A lord's manor… And its estate!? She stared blankly for a moment while her brain attempted to process the scale of what had just been handed to them. How much would something like that even cost? One hundred thousand gold? More? Probably more. Probably a lot more.

How in the hell had the Wixx family struggled with debt for years if kingdoms apparently threw mansions at Adriane just for existing? Though… when Chelsea thought about it more carefully, maybe that actually made sense. A manor was prestige. Land. Political value. Not necessarily liquid wealth capable of erasing massive debts. Chelsea's mind was already trying to imagine where she could put a proper kitchen, a reading room, a training area, a bathhouse. Oh! Maybe it already had a garden?.

"Additionally," King Juice continued, "I have another proposal I would prefer to discuss privately after the conclusion of our assembly.." Chelsea immediately became even more suspicious.

"For now, however," he said with a smile, "I have arranged a social gathering within the ballroom. The nobility present today are eager to properly meet our new residents." Chelsea curtsied again automatically before glancing sideways toward Adriane for guidance. Adriane, incredibly helpfully, simply stood there. Chelsea decided to imitate her exactly. The nobles began filing out of the room in organized clusters, conversations immediately swelling back to life throughout the chamber.

Chelsea could feel dozens of curious glances lingering on her as people exited. One older noblewoman nearly tripped while staring directly at Chelsea's wings. Chelsea gave her a small apologetic smile. The woman looked even more startled by the small hand signal. A few minutes passed. The room gradually emptied until only the trio remained alongside the royal family and roughly ten guards stationed around the throne room. The atmosphere changed almost immediately. The stiffness vanished.

The king rose first, followed by the queen. The younger man and woman beside them stood as well, though they remained slightly behind as the older royals descended the steps toward Adriane"Adriane," the queen said warmly, approaching without hesitation.

"Welcome back." Then, to Chelsea's shock, she hugged her. Adriane looked visibly uncomfortable the entire time. Chelsea had to keep herself from laughing.

"You finally accepted my offer," the king said with a smile.

"You were utterly wasted serving under Paul." His expression shifted slightly.

"Did he at least treat you properly?"

"Not exactly," Adriane admitted bluntly, "but we're not there anymore." Chelsea immediately relaxed hearing the change in tone. The formal royal act had vanished almost completely.

"True enough," the king replied.

"And frankly, we're thrilled to have you here. Have you had any difficulties settling into the city?"

"Aside from Chelsea driving Willow to start drinking at work? No. Things have been pleasant enough," Adriane replied simply. Then her expression softened slightly as she looked toward the two standing behind the king and queen.

"You two have grown quite a bit since I was here last." Chelsea studied them curiously. Prince and princess, obviously. Now came the important part: figuring out which royal stereotype they were. Chelsea had already started placing bets with herself. The prince looked composed and well-groomed, which immediately raised her suspicions. He had the posture of someone raised around nobility but not the stiff arrogance she expected.

The princess, meanwhile, looked delicate enough that Chelsea was fairly certain a strong breeze could knock her unconscious. -Soft-spoken princess. -Overconfident prince. That was Chelsea's prediction. The princess spoke first.

"Miss Adriane," she said softly, "it is wonderful to have you in our kingdom again." Chelsea nearly smiled. Called it.

"The kingdom feels much safer with you here." Her eyes drifted timidly toward Chelsea. The moment she met those glowing red demon eyes staring back at her, the poor girl visibly faltered. Her shoulders stiffened slightly, and she quickly redirected her attention back toward Adriane like a frightened little bunny. Chelsea's smile softened. The girl's nervousness honestly felt kind of adorable.

"Miss Chelsea," the queen said proudly, "Evelyn recently took the Merchant's examination herself."

"Oh, that's exciting," Chelsea replied immediately, putting as much genuine enthusiasm into her voice as possible. The princess turned bright red from the attention alone.

"She passed with a D-rank on her very first attempt," the queen continued proudly.

"Oh, congratulations!" Chelsea exclaimed.

"That test can be incredibly difficult." The prince finally laughed and joined the conversation.

"She's been obsessed with you since she heard about your score yesterday afternoon."

"Will," Evelyn whispered in horror, clearly trying to stop him. Chelsea immediately liked him more. He wasn't pompous at all. He actually seemed normal. Well… normal for royalty. Where did Chelsea know him from though. Chelsea leaned sideways toward Adriane and whispered quietly into her ear. Adriane gave the faintest nod before looking toward the prince.

"Prince William," Adriane said calmly, "would you happen to know what your current Charisma attribute is?" The question earned several confused looks from the royal family. Prince William blinked once before his gaze unfocused slightly.

"Twenty-seven," he answered after a moment. Chelsea immediately did the math in her head. Then she relaxed visibly.

"Wonderful," she said with a relieved laugh.

"I unfortunately possess the demon ability Attract. It has become a constant balancing act trying not to accidentally make people fall in love with me." The king burst into laughter. Chelsea appreciated that he actually laughed like a person instead of giving some restrained noble chuckle.

"How very considerate," he said with amusement.

"And remarkably forthcoming." Chelsea smiled nervously. Then the king continued.

"Well, amusingly enough, that is partially what I wished to discuss today." Chelsea's stomach immediately dropped. Oh no. This was it. They were going to politely exile her. Chelsea suddenly became acutely aware she was a demon standing in a throne room surrounded by guards while wearing enough Charisma to accidentally destabilize governments.

"I understand," Chelsea said cautiously. The king smiled pleasantly.

"I hear," he continued, "that your littlest sister remains unwed." Chelsea's face went blank. Wait. What?

"I would be delighted," the king continued warmly, "to unite the Juice and Wixx families through matrimony between her and our son, Prince William."