Chapter 3

I froze and glanced at Elodie, who avoided my eyes.

"In five days," Lucien said, "you will attend the court banquet. Do not embarrass me. In seven days, I will arrange the trial. Then we will see whether your words are true."

He lifted his hand to close the door.

"Seven days?" I asked. "That is too long. What about tonight? Actually, why not now?"

Lucien pushed the door back open and stared at me.

"I have never met a woman like you."

I stared at him like a wolf eyeing fresh meat. He flinched under my gaze and hurried out with a flick of his sleeve—not angry, exactly, more like he had run out of options.

Elodie stared at the closed door, then at me.

"Camille, what is your secret? How are you staying so calm around him? I never knew you were this brave."

I laughed it off. "Maybe crossing worlds awakened some hidden ability. Do not worry. As long as I have something to eat, you will not be in danger."

We had barely rested since arriving in this world, and that night I lay in bed recalling everything I knew about the original novel.

The Demon King was named Lucien Desrosiers. He was tall, powerful, and cursed in childhood by the holy orders. On the fifteenth of every month, the lust-curse devoured him. If he did not use a hundred women to ease it, his own power would tear him apart.

Poor man.

Fortunately, he had met me.

Otherwise, his curse would never have been solved.

The more I thought about him, the hungrier I became. The succubus blood in me stirred like a cat hearing a can open.

After so many dry years in the modern world, how could I sleep when a walking banquet was so close?

That night, the news spread through the palace that two pieces of the Demon King's personal clothing had vanished.

I lay in bed perfectly satisfied while Elodie looked at me with horror.

"Camille. Have you gone insane?"

Of course not. I had simply lost a little self-control.

After that, Lucien's personal items kept disappearing. The rumors grew more absurd by the day, and eventually Lucien came to my room himself.

"You are a spy after all."

He had me hauled in front of him. His pale face was stern, and in his eyes was something that almost looked like disappointment.

I immediately raised both hands. "Impossible, Your Majesty. I only wanted your scent near me. Even the curse on your things is fragrant."

He clearly had not expected such shamelessness.

When the guards produced the stolen garments, I still clutched the fabric like treasure.

"You have not even kissed me once since I came here," I complained. "I was lonely, so I kept a little keepsake."

Then I changed tone and caught his hand.

"But now you are here. I suppose I do not need them anymore."

I licked lightly over his knuckles, savoring the curse beneath his skin.

"Your Majesty, you smell so good."

Lucien's expression broke again.

He looked at the stolen garments, then at me, and probably realized no spy would go to this much trouble over something so ridiculous.

I pulled out several new pieces I had sewn in advance.

"Wear these instead," I said brightly. "After you have worn them for a few days, I will steal them too."

Before he could answer, I rubbed against him once more.

That was when the window shattered.

A black-clad assassin burst in.

Lucien's whole demeanor changed. He stepped in front of me, cold and dangerous.

"The holy orders," he said. "Hide behind me."

A hidden arrow shot from behind him.

I did not think. I threw myself forward.

The arrow pierced my chest.

Pain exploded. My vision went black.