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“The waltz held the feeling you get when you finish a well-loved book. It left me longing for something I couldn't name.”
― Louise Miller
The Royal Academy of Diavolo had let out for a short break between semesters, releasing throngs of students to their homes to relax and let loose after a successful first term. With everyone home, Delilah worried she would get no shred of alone time, however despite their constant presence, the House of Lamentation was quiet.
Even as she roamed the halls, trying to find something to do, the house was eerily silent. She could hear the omnipresent clicking of Levi’s mechanical keyboard as she passed his door and decided it was better to leave him to the throes of whatever otaku-bound ecstasy he had found himself in.
Further down the hall, the light tinkling of ivory piano keys wafted from the open music room door. The sound drew Delilah in and enticed her body forward. The closer she got, the more the music began to take shape. The notes delicately intertwined and lilted, rolling along merrily in three-four time.
Stepping into the room, past the threshold, Delilah finds Asmodeus humming to himself as he swayed this way and that to a tune the piano played itself. She shuddered to herself, swearing she would never get used to the idea of magic and the ghostly hands that could press the ivory keys without skin and bones.
Scattered all over the top of the piano were letters and envelopes that looked like they belonged in a museum rather than carelessly strewn about the House of Lamentation’s music room.
As if unbothered by her presence, Asmodeus slowly leveled his gaze at her and continued to hum. Delilah looked around the room before meeting him in the middle of the floor.
“Won’t you dance with me, darling?” He extends a well-manicured hand to Delilah. She offers a wry smile in return and takes his hand in hers. If she didn’t know better, she would say Asmodeus was sad.
“How many have you caught with that before?” She asked as the song died down in preparation for a new beginning. Asmodeus’s eyes spoke of mischief and his smile of corruption.
“I never kiss and tell,” he said with a wink, “Well, unless they want me too, then I’m happy to spin a story!”
Delilah laughed genuinely and flashed him an honest smile. Asmodeus had been a difficult nut to crack in the beginning of her time in the Devildom. He hung off her shoulders and kissed at her neck in greeting as if it were the most normal thing in the world for a stranger to do. She would gently tell him to stop and spent time every night trying to wash off the burning sensation his touch left blazing on her skin, and it took multiple nights for her heart to stop pounding at the thought of him when she accidentally looked into his eyes for too long. Delilah had thought him to be dangerous; and he was.
Asmodeus was the pillar of everything a woman on earth fears, a powerful and lustful man. He was fatally charming, alarmingly kind, and could make your insides squirm with a single breath. However, the closer she grew to him after they officiated their pact, she realized what he wanted more than any of his philandering, was connection. Once she knew she could disarm him with validation, he was easy to tame and truly befriend.
Originally, he had seen Delilah as a nuisance, irked by the importance everyone seemed to put on this puny human. Sure, she had good bone structure and her eyes glimmered in the sun, but she was nothing in comparison to Asmodeus himself, and he spent the better part of four weeks reminding everyone of that. His heart began to soften to her after their pact. She was genuinely kind and listened when he spoke of things he knew that no one else cared about, despite his insistence. She was the only human to look through him as if he were made of glass. No one could make him feel the way she did and that was a fact.
Confusion knitted Delilah’s brows as Asmodeus pulled her beside him and held her left hand in his, his right landing deftly on the small of her back. Her eyes darted to his as he took her about the room.
“What are we doing?” She asked.
“Have you never waltzed before?” His own beautiful brow arched in question. As the music swelled, he stopped walking and brought their bodies together, pushing their joined hands above their heads in ballerina’s fifth position. Asmodeus stepped with his left foot, spinning her on her toes as he led them through the throes of the dance. The old flooring creaked beneath their movements, reminding Delilah that he wasn’t carrying her through the air despite the fluidity of the motions.
“You saw me at Diavolo’s ball, but that was nothing like this!” said Delilah. She held on as they twirled and she counted in her head, 1-2-3, 1-2-3, 1-2-3. “Besides, I always had you pegged as a tango kind of guy.” She lost her footing and stumbled, but he caught her effortlessly and brought her back on track. “Or at least something more intimate.”
It was Asmodeus’s turn to laugh. He pinned her with a brilliant smile as he brought their arms down to begin the next phase of the dance. “Never underestimate the intimacy of the waltz, love!”
Asmodeus takes her hands in his and brings them to his shoulders, his own drift to her waist to begin leading her once more. His eyes never left her own, the intensity of his gaze sending a shiver down her spine. The way the edges of her eyes turned down and her thick lashes cast shadows on her face brought to mind another.
“I don’t think I’ve ever met someone like you, Delilah, love,” he starts.
“So you continue to tell me.” She replied, a smile gracing her lips and crinkling her eyes.
“But I believe I’ve met someone with your eyes…” he trailed off, memories of thousands upon thousands of years beginning to dance along with the piano’s tune in his mind. “How curious.”
Delilah shrugs lightly so as not to disrupt the dance, “You’re old, you’ve probably encountered my ancestors.”
“Graciously, I’ll ignore your slander,” he pulled her along, none-too-gently, as the next song began to kick up, but his annoyance was short lived by another, more nostalgic feeling. “But you’re probably right, I just wish I could remember her name…what was it again?”
“Well, maybe it-,” Delilah began, but he interrupted her once more.
“Ah! It was…”
~*~
1816, Grantham, England
“Georgiana!” A voice cut through the chirping of birds, disrupting the peace.
Nestled in the tall grass of a meadow filled as far as the eye could see with flowers of all colors dancing upon the wind’s request, lay a mop of tawny brown curls. Georgiana threw a freckled arm over her green eyes to shield her from the sun and the gaze of her governess.
The sounds of skirts being dragged over grass and getting caught on low shrubbery brought her out of her blessed reverie. Blearily she peered over her arm, letting her eyes focus over the dusting of hair on her forearms to see her governess, Mrs. Susanna, staring down at her, her two doughy arms folded under her bust like she was trying to hug herself to death.
“Georgiana why ever are you laying here in the dirt?” Mrs. Susanna’s words were firm, but her voice was the same comforting, motherly tone it had been since as long as Georgiana could remember. “It is bad enough you run away from lessons, but dirtying your skirts among the flowers, really? That bench is comfort enough to enjoy the day. Come now.” She said.
Folding herself slowly as one would a letter bearing ill will, Georgiana gingerly moved into a sitting position. “Have my sisters-,”
“Begun dressing? Oh yes, they finished their lessons and freshened up while you, you wretched thing, decided to have yourself a bit of sun!” Susanna pinched the bridge of her nose in frustration while she watched the young woman stretch like a cat who had just woken up. Perhaps she had.
“Then I simply must catch up to them,” said Georgiana. With the diligence of well-rest, she stood from the ground and started her trek back to the manor-house. The tall grass parted for her as she passed, and the flowers swayed in her wake.
“Whatever did I do to deserve helping raise such an ungrateful little thing?” Mrs. Susanna said to the air. The trees shook with the wind in response, earning a huff from the middle-aged woman. She wasn’t angry with her charge; they were more like friends, the pair of them.
With her own siblings much younger than she, Susanna found Georgiana and her sisters welcome company, even though Cecilia and Esther were loud, Julia preferred books to people, and Georgiana shirked her responsibilities as the eldest daughter and did so with an ever-present bored look on her face. Her eyes observing carefully and a smirk settling neatly upon her full lips.
Georgiana was not trouble so much as she was a lay-about. She liked to cause mischief and watch scenes unfold. She claimed no interest in the balls held in the neighboring estates, preferring time to herself to watch the wind rustle the garden in its frenzied orchestration. During balls, she danced the night away, chatting with every suitor that came her way with mirth and vigor, but once said suitor came to the house to call on her, she would send him away, much to her mother’s chagrin. When asked, she claimed that they were “boorish and simple”.
Upon nearing the house, Georgiana could hear her sisters’ laughter. They all stood at the upstairs window gawking and twittering like birds in a tree, even Julia had peeked her eyes over the rim of her book for a chance to see what excited them so. She followed their line of sight to see a footman clad in dark colors approaching the house. Behind him was a lavish carriage of mysterious origins; Georgiana was sure she had never seen it before in her life.
“What news?” She called as she approached the man, the dirt crunching under her boots as she stepped heavily down the path.
The closer she got, she noticed his hair, equal in shadowy color to his clothing, hiding under his uniformed hat. How odd, she thought, for a footman to be without a wig. He turned, almost deerlike, unspeaking to her. Georgiana almost gasped at the sight of his eyes. They were as purple as amethyst and shone just as brilliant. Those violet hues traverse her form and he blinked once, almost as if he had forgotten that he had to.
“Are you the lady of the house?” He asked. His words were stilted like English wasn’t his first language and his voice seemed strained, as if he hadn’t had anything to drink in days. Georgiana had to stop herself from laughing at his question; if her mother had had it her way, she would have been married off to become the lady of someone’s house years ago.
“No sir,” she shook her head, letting more of her dark curls fall from the pinned bunch at the base of her neck, “I am the eldest daughter, however. I may take your message.”
“I was sent by Lord Diavolo himself to confirm your family’s attendance at the ball tonight.” He bowed to her.
“How curious, I do believe we sent an official confirmation on the morn before last?” Georgiana herself had written the letter and sent her most trustworthy runner with it, knowing her siblings would devour her if she allowed them to miss a ball put on by the Italian lord. Lordling, she thought to herself amused. Lord Diavolo was young, perhaps even Georgiana’s age; much younger than the bachelors that swarmed Grantham’s usual parties.
Lord Diavolo had shown up sometime last month, staying at the Wenham estate at the edge of the forest. It caused quite a stir in the social circles for the Wenham family had bowed out of the light of society on charges of witchcraft dating back to the early 1700’s. The family name had never quite recovered after Queen Anne’s pardon.
This all changed when then handsome, olive-skinned Lord appeared as if out of thin air. The town eagerly spoke of him, his name being the only thing on their lips for weeks on end. They spoke of his relation to the Wenham family, his easy manner of speech, but the thing most spoke of was his hair, the color was said to look as if his curls were made of fire itself.
“I apologize for the disturbance, my lady,” He bowed once more.
“Think nothing of it,” she waved away his apology as if it were a fly, “Please note that my family will be in attendance.”
With that, she offered a curtsy, putting an end to any further conversation. The footman nodded and turned to leave. Before he could disappear behind the carriage, his form began to shimmer like the sun’s rays on water. Georgiana blinked once, twice, and tried to rub any further sleep from her eyes before watching the retreating form of the carriage as it rolled obliviously down the lane. Before he completely disappeared, she swore she saw his form begin to shrink and darken.
~
In a drawing room filled with pretty things, Asmodeus lounged on the chaise, humming to himself. His little minion just returned with a long list of names, dropping the rolled parchment in his lap.
“You did wonderfully, my sweet.” Asmodeus played with the tiny, soot colored demon that flitted and twittered above his head.
The door to the drawing room swung open, surprising the prostrate demon into a sitting position. The demon prince merrily strolled inside, followed closely by his attendant Barbatos and Asmodeus’s own brother, Lucifer, who looked all at once irritated and confused at his brother’s presence.
“What are you doing here, Asmodeus?” Lucifer looked like he was ready to apologize to Diavolo for his brother’s transgressions. Diavolo offered a large smile.
“Or should you say, Lord Amandus?” Diavolo asked, his tone knowing. He sat down at the edge of the chaise and Barbatos moved to pour drinks behind them. Asmodeus gave the prince his most charming smile in return and exposed his palms.
“It seems I’ve been caught!” said Asmodeus.
“Could you tell me why your attendant has been bothering the local families with questions about tonight, when I already have all the letter responses I need?” Diavolo’s eyes twinkled with mischief.
“Astute as ever, your highness.” Asmodeus said. “I was simply getting my own personal head count of the beautiful flowers set to attend tonight’s soiree.”
“Asmodeus.” Lucifer warned from his spot by the window. In the sunlight, Lucifer’s vermillion eyes glimmered like rubies; a stark contrast to the threating look on his dour face. Despite his sourness, Asmodeus admired his brother. The style of the time suited his character. His dark hair styled effortlessly with short, loose curls and neat sideburns in the current militaristic look. His dark coat and vest made him appear almost in mourning, but the accents of red negated the thought.
“What are you doing in the human realm in the first place?” Lucifer asked. His hand twitched as he fought the urge to pinch the bridge of his nose.
“You see, dear Lucifer, Leviathan wanted so desperately to see the opera,” He began his tale, “But I would not stand to see my brother going alone-,”
“It’s less about Leviathan and more about the fact that you love to come to the human realm and make a mess of things.” Lucifer snorted.
Ignoring him completely, Asmodeus continued his story. “So, I accompanied him to the opera, however you know how Levi can be, and seeing the same performance every night can be a real strain on the ears and mind.”
Asmodeus rose as he spoke to pace about the room. “I left him to his devices and went about mine. I popped in to visit my good friends George and Percy, where I had a merry few days until I had to grab Levi. We were on our way home until we heard of a mysterious foreign lord throwing a party in the humble English countryside, so of course we stopped! The women in this time period are so titillating; wearing sheer dresses and lower necklines; oh, it feels like Greece again.” Asmodeus swooned. “I’m getting warm!”
“Leviathan is here as well?” Lucifer looked like he was counting down backwards in his head.
“I believe I left him in the library.” Asmodeus shrugged. “This really is a beautiful manor, by the way! There’s so many windows and the way the light strikes the color of my coat, hair, and eyes, is just exquisite.”
Diavolo simply laughed at his antics, “I will be sure to let Lady Wenham know.”
“Remind me why you are throwing this ball again?” Lucifer chimed in as Barbatos offered him a drink, which he gratefully took.
Diavolo sipped at his drink thoughtfully. Despite being slicked back, his red hair caught the sunlight like a glittery trinket. “Lady Wenham summoned me for advice and asked if I would like to sponsor a ball at her estate. I can never say no to a beautiful woman, Lucifer.”
“That is precisely the thinking that-,”
“You are very wise,” Asmodeus interrupted his brother with a smirk.
Outside the sun had begun its slow descent and Diavolo stood to his full height, the hilt of his sword clinking against the buttons on his trousers. “I do believe it is time to begin preparations!”
With a wave of his hand, both Lucifer and Barbatos wordlessly follow him. Lucifer sets his glass on the drink cart and fixes Asmodeus with a harsh glare before he departs.
~
The party was in full swing for Georgiana and her sisters. They swayed to the orchestra’s music, getting exchanged from partner to partner as one song drifted into the next. From across the hall, Asmodeus watched the brunette’s form, his golden eyes trained on her dancing body. She was young, he could tell; inexperienced, yet playful. By the sheer cream color of her muslin gown, he decided that she was the type that liked to play the game.
“I wish you would never bring me to one of these parties ever again,” Leviathan muttered beside him, a strong drink in his hand.
“Cheer up, dear brother, for there are many fish in this fine sea.” Asmodeus sipped at his own drink daintily, spotting a gaggle of women watching him cow-eyed from the sidelines. He shot them a wink and they giggled amongst themselves, blushing and fanning each other. They ran off and gathered among another grouping.
“This is the most tempestuous and noisy sea I’ve had the displeasure of setting my eyes on.” Leviathan said, his eyes bobbing along with the dancing bodies as the violins crescendo.
“So clearly not in the mood to go fishing then?” Asmodeus practically pouted at his brother, who sighed. “What about that one?” He pointed in the general direction of the dance floor, not really caring to whom Leviathan looked, so long as he did.
“Which one you dolt? There should be about twenty in that group alone!” Leviathan felt the cool anxiety crawling up his arms, urging on a tantrum. Reading his mood, Asmodeus took pity on his dour older brother and scanned the dance floor himself, his eyes landing on the woman in the off-white gown again. The giggling girls Asmodeus had sent into a tizzy were swarming the young woman, making her laugh.
“What about her?” Asmodeus pointed in her direction, drawing his brother’s eyes. “She is tolerable, nay, looking at her again, I would say she is near handsome enough to tempt me.”
Leviathan snorted into his drink. “Anything with a bosom is handsome enough to tempt you, dear brother.”
In high spirits, Asmodeus ignored him. “I will fetch her for you, but please spare me the tears when she displays preference, Admiral Livius.”
Downing the remainder of the liquid in his glass, Asmodeus set the empty thing on one of the tables near the wall he stood against and began making his way to her as the orchestra geared up to play a polka.
“Pardon me, my dear, would you happen to fancy a dance?” Asmodeus’s voice effortlessly traveled over the din of the ballroom to lilt over her ears. “Not for myself, of course, but for my brother.”
Georgiana’s green eyes met his own stunning golden irises and for once, found herself at a loss for words. His was the most handsome and agreeable face she had ever looked upon. His nearness alone caused a flush to dust from her chest to the tips of her ears. He looked like a cherub with his golden curls illuminated by the warmth of the candles. His skin was flawlessly void of any blemish or sun mark. His perfection drew out her own insecurities and had her suddenly wishing for the modesty of the dress Mrs. Susanna had fought her over.
“He is an unpleasant sort of man, quite frightened of beautiful women such as yourself,” Asmodeus continued to speak, drawing attention from herself and her eyes to his full, pink lips. “But surely, you can spare one dance for an invalid such as he, my lady?”
Georgiana wordlessly nodded and followed his own gaze to the side of the dancefloor where an equally beautiful man stood, his enchanting features the very epitome of discomfort. She practically laughed at the sight of the miserable brother in question. His dark hair, shining nearly blue under the candlelight, was brushed precariously forward in a fashionably romantic style that was common among the young bachelors in London. His sideburns were trimmed and neatly shorn unlike some of the bushier styles seen on other men in the crowd, however they framed a rather saturnine portrait.
“How rude you should inquire about me without an introduction, sir,” said Georgiana as he stared into her eyes. A mischievous glint reflected back at him. Her tone was light and just as playful as he had imagined it to be.
“How rude indeed!” He simply plucked her hand from her side and placed a kiss on the inside of her wrist, subduing her playful spirit. The simple act left her arm burning and she flushed harder than before. “Amandus Daemonasi, at your service.”
“Georgiana Huxley,” She just barely croaked out, her heart beating faster than it ever had in her life. “…at yours.”
“Now let us see to that dance!” He took the hand that was still in his and linked their arms to drag her across the room.
“Admiral Livius Daemonasi, it is my absolute pleasure to introduce the beautiful Miss Georgiana Huxley.” Asmodeus made a sweeping motion and Leviathan couldn’t miss his tone.
“The pleasure is mine, Miss Huxley,” Leviathan offered her a stiff bow. “Would you care to dance?”
For the second time that night, Georgiana found herself confounded and befuddled by the brilliance of a man. Livius was quite handsome himself and his eyes were the most exquisite molten sunset hue. He took in her silence and grumbled to himself. Georgiana shook herself from her own reverie and offered him a smile.
“I would be delighted, Admiral,” She took his arm and they departed to the floor.
“What brought the two of you to our humble village?” Georgiana asked before they parted to begin the dance in two perpendicular lines, men and women facing one another. Taking two steps forward on the string of a cello, he concocted an answer.
“Amandus and I were traveling to see the opera when we received word that Lord Diavolo was to hold a ball,” He explained before they parted once more. When the strings sped up their tune, each couple approached one another and separated from the group, leaving room for more conversation. “Thus, we ended our travels here for a fortnight to appease Amandus’s appetite.”
“Well then, I can count myself lucky to dance with someone as worldly and handsome as yourself, Admiral Daemonasi.” Georgiana smiled up at him and watched as a dark flush spread across his face.
“Livius is fine, my lady-,”
“Then you may call me Georgiana.”
They swayed in time, spinning about the room. They spoke of the opera, the music, the weather, and anything that came to mind. How wonderful it was to find someone of interest, Georgiana thought. Livius was handsome and easy to talk to once you got him started, and it was clear where his passions lay. He made the candlelight seem dull and the rest of the crowd fade away.
That is, until Amandus came into focus behind the throng of dancers. He had a flushing woman up against the wall in a dark corner where his mouth was moving wordlessly against her ear. He must have felt Georgiana’s eyes on him because his own hooded gaze lifted to lock with hers. The look he gave her sent a shiver down her spine and everything Livius had been seemed unimportant and dull.
“Your brother seems to be enjoying himself,” Georgiana sniffed. Leviathan grumbled again and stiffened under her touch.
“It is unfair for a lady to speak about a man while she is dancing with another, would you not agree?” His voice was strained, and Georgiana could tell she had hit a nerve.
“Forgive me, Livius, I meant nothing by it.” She insisted and he all but looked away from her.
“I am aware of my brother’s habits,” He all but rolled his eyes in disdain like a child. “But I do wish he would refrain from making a fool out of our family in the process.”
Before she could ask of the other siblings, she felt a tap upon her shoulder and saw the man in question.
“My ears were beginning to burn,” Asmodeus smiled at the pair, “Speaking of me, were we?” he all but hummed. “May I have the next dance?”
Leviathan bristled harshly and dropped Georgiana’s hands as if he had been severely burned by her touch. “Be my guest.” He spit from behind closed teeth before stalking away to the wall from whence he came.
“Never you mind him, dear,” Asmodeus swept her up into his arms, holding her waist a bit too close, “His mood swings like a pendulum. Though I cannot say I blame him for his jealousy; you look rather becoming on my arm.”
“And you looked like a scoundrel enticing that poor woman the way you did,” She ribbed him, though her words held little bite and only served to make him chuckle.
“His jealousy found its way to you, did it?” He asked as everyone on the dancefloor began to pair up, standing side by side. Asmodeus held her left hand in his, his right landing deftly on the small of her back. His arms felt like the most natural place she had ever been. “I was not aware it was a contagion.”
“I have never known jealousy, why should I start now?” She shot back, earning another laugh.
“Why indeed.” Said Asmodeus.
The two began their waltz in silence, stepping lightly and swirling alongside the other dancers in perfect synchronicity. Asmodeus held their hands in a perfect circle above their heads and brought them down in time with the song.
“You are enchanting, Miss Huxley,” he said. They shared a gaze once more and she felt more like a trapped animal than ever. Something lapped at the fringe of her consciousness, beckoning, and pulling at her better judgement. Georgiana had to begin speaking or she would do something to embarrass herself, she was sure.
“My sisters claim you to be an angel, but you look every inch a man to me,” Georgiana said quickly, trying to distract him from whatever spell he was trying to put her under. It seemed to work because Asmodeus gave her a look as if he were caught off guard and the mysterious sensation ceased.
He composed himself quickly, the movement almost imperceptive, and gave her a smirk as he pulled her closer yet. “Is that so?” Asmodeus asked.
Their hips brushed one another as they danced, causing Georgiana to gasp out loud. His grip tightened on her hand, frightening her into feeling like prey once more. “And what if I, myself, claimed to be a devil?”
With the way he was holding her, Georgiana could believe it. Their eyes met sincerely, and she squirmed against the strange sensation at the edge of her mind that had returned stronger than ever. Sweat pooled at her upper lip and his eyes trailed down her face slowly to meet the droplet. “Are you nervous, Georgiana?”
At the sound of her name on his tongue, she drew in a sharp breath, hissing like a startled cat. His tone was like honey over a morning scone, thick and nauseatingly sweet, laced with the promise of sickness if overindulged. He raised their hands in their circle to the sky once more, and time seemed to stop.
Shielded by the sleeve of his coat, their hair frizzed by the humidity of the room, he pressed his lips to hers. All at once she felt much too young and much too old, her fear giving way to a senseless state of being. Divine, decadent, and terrifying, but she could not bear to separate from him.
Asmodeus pulled back to look into her eyes and the world kicked back into motion all at once. The sounds and sights overwhelmed her. She wanted to crawl back into his embrace and let him kiss her senseless once more. Georgiana only stared into his eyes as they stood still amongst the dancing couples, her chest heaving under the weight of his presence. He broke their shared gaze to smirk over her head at his scowling brothers, Lucifer having joined Leviathan at the refreshments.
“Come dear, let us away.” Asmodeus lead her by the hand through the crowd, to where she had no clue, but she followed for anyone who could make the world around her melt away was sure to be an angel leading her down the right path.
~*~
“He will come for me.” Georgiana repeated her mantra as she sat at the window ceil, her perch for the past three weeks, clutching his letters to her heart. “He told me so.”
Behind her, Mrs. Susanna watched with morose eyes of a woman who knew better. Julia stared from behind her book and even the twins did not dare make a peep near their sister.
“Will you at least eat, you foolish child?” Mrs. Susanna had come to their room to round up the girls for dinner. “Your Lord Amandus would be bereaved to come find you skeletal before he could fetch you himself.”
“Thank you, Mrs. Susanna, however my appetite escapes me.” Said Georgiana, her eyes softening. “I will wait.”
And so she did.
~*~
“So, you loved her and left her,” Delilah stated. It wasn’t a question; she was well aware of Asmodeus’s tendencies.
“I don’t think she ever got over me, to tell you the truth. The poor dear,” Asmodeus said with a light shrug. The two had stopped dancing to sit on the couch as he spun his story; his legs draped over hers in a familiar manner.
“Well, that’s what happens when you play with girls in Regency England, Asmo,” She snorted and shoved his legs off her own before standing and stretching, “Their constitutions can’t handle it.”
“That’s what’s so wonderful about them!” he sighed wistfully, “One kiss and they’re in love!”
Delilah rolled her eyes and couldn’t help but feel bad for Georgiana. If she had been her ancestor, then that would explain how she could resist his seduction attempt at first, but Asmodeus was an extraordinarily strong opponent. No one stood a chance for very long.
“Are we heading to bed?” Asmodeus asked, a hopeful glimmer in his eyes as he stood as well.
“Yeah, but can we just sleep, dancing wore me out!” Delilah stretched once more and upon straightening out, Asmodeus hugged her from behind.
“Of course, love.”
The two departed, Delilah out the door first and Asmodeus following close behind. He stopped at the doorframe to look back at the pile of letters he spread out on top of the piano before Delilah had found him in his reverie. The cursive script seemed to float off the page and he swore he could smell the faintest scent of lavender.
Georgiana, he thought as he magicked the papers to fold and tuck themselves neatly into their fraying envelopes before they flew into a copy of the Kama Sutra laying open on the piano bench. A small portal opened up and a Little D appeared to grab the book, now full of letters, and disappeared through the portal once more. Rest easy, dear.