Inspired by a [writing prompt](https://www.reddit.com/r/DirtyWritingPrompts/comments/f4up9b/wp_most_people_would_think_that_the_evil_demonic/) in /r/DirtyWritingPrompts
I, Prince Jarren, formerly of the Westwall Isles, was surprised at how comfortable being the consort of a demonic empress was.
It helped that, outside of her intimidating armor and spiky regalia, she was actually kind of cute, and blushed adorably whenever I told her so, even now, almost a year after our disaster of a ‘wedding’.
“Mrrrrh.” Evetali purred as I brushed her hair with my fingers, her head of pale platinum blonde hair resting on my chest as she used me like some body-pillow, human flesh warming her demonic heart. I didn’t stop combing her hair, though.
The first few nights had been terrifying; being newly ‘wed’ to a foreign empress who’s armies had savaged that of my home’s neighbors? Then came the wedding, which had more resembled the sale of cattle than a celebration of a union. I distinctly remember Renori – Eve’s favorite dragon – picking me up in her talons before beating her wings hard enough to bowl over two thirds of the guests.
The sight of that asshole Duke Lassiter continuing to roll (he was overindulgent, and had a clear downhill trajectory) long after the rest had stopped, though, was a silver lining like no other.