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"I can't believe you're actually thinking about this."
Lasciel sipped from her bottle of ale, her painted lips wrapping around the rim in a coy half-smile. "Why shouldn't I?"
"Because it's marriage. Because she's the daughter of a Knight. Because you used to be a demon. You do remember that last part, right?"
Lasciel leaned back in her chair, one arm draped indolently over the back, while the other kept a grip on her drink. She never spilled a drop, no matter how ludicrous I thought she was acting.
"Of course I do. But I'm not a demon now, am I?"
No, she wasn't. As mind-bending and unlikely as it was, she'd turned her coat for the good of another being. A small, fragile being with a staggeringly brief life. She'd made the choice anyway. I was proud of her, but this was...
"You're still insane."
"I didn't ask for disparagement. I'm asking for a caterer. Are you available?"
"If you survive asking her father's permission, I'll check my calendar."
Lasciel grinned, a tiny, triumphant baring of teeth. There was still an edge of temptation to her, despite what she'd done. You could take the angel out of hell, but you couldn't take the hellish glee out of the angel.
"That's all I ask."