To Bewitch a Devil

“Neera...”, he whispered. Her name hung in the air between them, and its weight held the tons of words he wanted to say, but didn’t.

Neera pulled away and looked up at him. The tears were freefalling now. Zavian wiped them with his thumbs and stepped away from her.

“Goodbye.” He said.

“Goodbye, Zavian.”

He walked back into the shadows he appeared from. Even though Neera had always been alone most of her life, she had never felt as lonely as she had once he was out of sight.

...

It was the Night of Selection.

Zavian looked up at the gossamer curtains above his bed. Sleep had long left him, and he knew it wasn’t coming anytime soon.

.....

The Dukes and knights from far and wide had arrived for the wedding the next day. Earlier in the evening, for the selection process, the three princesses had been brought forth before him in the throne room. Zavian had to take a final look at all three of them, and he had to pick one to be his bride the next day.

He looked at Zelda. Knowledgeable, intelligent , Zelda found peace in her own company more than anyone else’s. Jasmine, as she depicted her name, was sweet, and spread the fragrance of her kind spirit to everyone in every class. Kitana, fierce and a go-getter would make a promising and reliable queen.

Zavian looked at them all. He knew who to pick.

“I’ve made my choice, “, he told them. All Princesses exchanged glances. “And, I’d pick my bride at the wedding tomorrow.”

The murmur followed him as he exited the throne room. Since then, everyone lived in suspense about who the King had picked, and everyone would find out on the wedding day.

Dawn was close, and seeing as there was no point in being awake any longer, he summoned the maids to prepare his bath. It took him no time to wear his wedding regalia; a long, flowing red robe, a shirt that bolstered his muscles, and a tunic that matched his breeches. He worked on his hair, now already grown past his shoulders, just as Neera said she liked it.

He looked over to the side of the bed he had grown accustomed to seeing her lying. Now it was going to be a Princess laying there that night.

The knock drew his eyes away from his bed to his door. He summoned the person in, and Azriel walked in, and if it was even more impossible to look more handsome, Azriel made it possible in his own matching regalia to the King’s, but without the robe or many emblems.

“The groom of the century, “, he greeted Zavian.

Zavian grunted. “Whose idea was it to give me a winter blanket for a robe?”

Azriel laughed. “It is only for the ceremony.” He patted Zavian’s shoulder and looked at him through the mirror. “No one has a whiff of who you selected last night, mind telling me?”

“No,” Zavian replied. “Whoever it is will be among the three of them today, and that’s all you need to know.”

Azriel clicked his tongue. “I bet it’s Kitana or Jasmine.”

“You’ll find out, “, Zavian said. “And about that bride, we spoke about finding for you, have you anyone in mind?”

Azriel let out a howl. “No, I enjoy the sweetness of my freedom, your Majesty, and I intend to keep it that way.”

“One of these days, you’ll know there is more to life than just bedding women, Azriel,” Zavian said.

“Till that day comes, I’ll keep being free.” He said. “You, on the other hand, let’s get you hitched.”

Zavian stood, and with Azriel behind him, he walked out the door. Several guards were waiting for the King’s appearance and they fell in line once he was out, surrounding him so he was at the center.

The grand hall had its majestic doors wide open for his arrival. More guards lined up the entrance down to the stage where he would wife one of the Princesses. The crowd was massive, a blend of bright colors and glittering pieces of jewelry in every corner.

“The King has arrived. All rise.” It was announced. Everyone stood, and Zavian walked down the aisle, his robe heavy behind him.

At the end of the long line, just before the stage where he would be bound to his wife, stood the three Princesses, each dressed in equally extravagant outfits with equally extravagant hairdos for the occasion, and a line of maids behind each of them.

Zavian stood in front of everyone, with Azriel by his side. The presider of the event was a very ancient demon with cheeks sunken in and a steady booming voice that echoed through the hall and carried everyone along.

Zavian’s eyes searched the faces of the standing maids for Neera. Did she not come?

“And now,” the presider pulled him back to the ceremony at hand. “The King has selected his bride, and will approach her to wed her before you all.”

As Zavian looked toward the Princesses, his eyes caught a lock of silver hair. The crowd waited with bated breaths, hands poised for the applause, all eyes glued to the Princesses. Silence hummed, the orchestra held onto their instruments, and all watched as Zavian moved.

Neera kept her eyes downcast. She stood two maids away from Princess Kitana, who she was assigned with five other maids to carry the endlessly long train of her dress. Her eyes drew to a child’s cry that rang across the hall, and she smiled as the mother shushed him lovingly.

She thought about her siblings and wondered if they ever missed her. Neera had never felt like a part of her family, and as the mother stroked the child’s back to calm him, Neera wondered if her mother had once patted her to be quiet when she scrapped a knee or cut herself mistakenly. She had always been the odd kid, the one that looked like a demon without possessing the powers of one, like a bad omen.