Cassian stared at Veyce with a stunned expression.
Concubines.
Every person in this grand hall—every graceful, terrifying, impossibly poised figure was a concubine of the Supre Lord?
His gaze swept across the room, heart pounding. There were more than a thousand people in this court. A sea of radiant faces, each glowing with otherworldly beauty and power. And they all... belonged to him?
His breath caught. He reached for his tea, but his hand trembled too much to lift the cup. The image of Dorian from the night before flared in his mind...those cold, unreadable eyes, the way he had touched him like he was already claid.
A wave of nausea rolled through him.
"Veyce," Cassian whispered, barely finding his voice. "How—how can there be so many? Is this real? Is this... his harem?"
Veyce rely chuckled, clearly amused by Cassian’s horror. He leaned back in his chair, balancing it on two legs as if this were any other lazy afternoon conversation.
"Why are you so shocked?" he asked, biting into a glittering, star-glazed fruit. "Everyone in the demon realm knows. The Supre Lord has thirteen thousand four hundred concubines in his harem."
Cassian dropped his fork. It clattered against the plate, the sound sharp in the silence between them.
"Thirteen... thousand?"
Veyce nodded, cheerful as ever. "Mhm. And with us four new additions, it’s now thirteen thousand four hundred and four."
Cassian blinked, his vision tilting as the blood drained from his face. "Wait—we? What do you an, we?"
Veyce tilted his head as if Cassian were being deliberately slow. "Us. You, , and the other two chosen this cycle. Didn’t you realize? We’re the newest mbers. The Court of Concubines welcos you."
Cassian’s mouth parted, but no sound ca out. He couldn’t breathe. Couldn’t think.
He felt his mind short-circuit. He had considered countless possibilities after being brought here, but never...not even in his wildest dreams, had he imagined he was brought here to be a re possession in a harem filled with thousands of others.
The realization hit him like a slap...sharp, cold and humiliating. He wasn’t special. He wasn’t chosen for anything noble or rare. He was property. A number. Just another na added to an endless list of beautiful things ant to please the Supre Lord.
"But... I didn’t agree to this," he managed to say, voice cracking. "No one told what this ant. I didn’t even know this place existed yesterday."
Veyce shrugged. He didn’t look surprised. "That’s not unusual. A lot of us don’t find out until we arrive. So families like to keep the details quiet until the very last second. Fewer problems that way."
He paused, tapping a finger against his chin. "Actually, that reminds —where are you from? I haven’t seen your crest before. And I know almost all the human houses in the demon realm. There aren’t many of yours. Easy to keep track."
Cassian didn’t answer.
Because he didn’t have an answer. Not one that made any kind of sense.
Veyce took his silence as curiosity and kept talking, gesturing casually as if none of this was new or strange to him.
"I was chosen only because my older sister died," he said, and for the first ti, his voice softened. "She was the one trained for this from the ti we were children. She knew everything—the etiquette, the politics, the Supre Lord’s preferences. But last winter, during a beast hunt, she was killed. So... the honor fell to ."
He sighed and looked down at his plate for a beat before taking another bite. "If she had lived, I’d still be out there sowhere. Exploring a floating jungle. Mapping storm-paths across the northern sky. But this is how it works. These positions only open once every century. Every hundred years, four noble houses are chosen. One candidate each. And we bring power and prestige to our bloodlines by serving the Supre Lord."
The words settled over Cassian like a spell. Like soone had carved the world out from under him.
"And you?" Veyce asked after a pause, studying him. "You don’t look like soone who was prepared for this. What’s your story, Cassian? Your face says it all. You had no idea, did you?"
Cassian didn’t speak.
He couldn’t.
What was he even supposed to say? That he wasn’t from any noble house? That he didn’t belong to any ancient bloodline or honored lineage?
That the Supre Lord hadn’t selected him through so prestigious courtly rite... but had taken him, personally?
He almost laughed—almost. Not because it was funny, but because it felt absurd.
No training, no legacy, no title. Just a passing fascination the Supre Lord had indulged in outside the demon realm. That he was the fling of supre lord outside the demon realm. A private affair that clearly wasn’t ant to stay private forever.
And now here he was. Just another concubine lost in the sea of thirteen thousand others.
Sowhere deep in his chest, sothing twisted making it hard to breathe.
Veyce’s expression shifted, a teasing light entering his eyes. "Don’t tell ... you’re so illegitimate child they stuffed into a crate and shipped here just to get rid of?"
He laughed lightly with an air of nonchalance, completely unaware of the turmoil raging inside Cassian.
Cassian didn’t laugh.
And though he wanted to scream, to deny it, the weight pressing behind his ribs refused to move.
Cassian stared at his plate, the golden food now looking sickeningly bright, artificial—like everything around him. He clenched his hands under the table, nails digging into his palms, trying to anchor himself. But the truth kept crawling up his spine, unwelco and cold.
He wasn’t ready for this. Not for the whispers. Not for the eyes that would follow him. Not for Dorian’s gaze, filled with possession and expectation.
Veyce leaned back again, humming to himself. Cassian barely registered the sound.
Because sowhere in the back of his mind, a single thought had begun to echo.
I need to get out of here.
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