Mezo wasn't dining when Hesi arrived. A bright smile broke through his lips as her silent shuffles echoed. The absence of debris squeezing into the gaps of her toes was the only thing she anticipated in coming here.

"How was the trip?" The prince asked as though the walk from the bridal palace to the royal palace was as treacherous as navigating the desert at night.

She dropped on the opposite cushion without waiting for his invitation. She'd rather not hear another line of pleasantry this evening. She had a long day. "Dandy," was all she replied. "How have you been?"

The demon blinked as though her question caught him off-guard. Was he excluded from everything to a degree that such a correspondence was shocking? She stuck her lip out. "It's how humans make conversation." She waved a hand. "Didn't the other brides tell you that? What do you even talk about with them?"

"Most are too afraid to even look me in the eye." He inclined his head at her to prove a point. He was right; she looked at everything but his dark, slitted eyes. But she was busy figuring out if plunging her knife in them would work. "How do I answer that question?"

"You tell me anything you want me to know," she answered. "What you did since the last time we met, what you are doing now that I don't know yet, what you're feeling."

"Feeling?" His eyebrows creased. "What is feeling?"

"It's...ugh." She curled her fingers in the air, her words not forming. "I'm not the best person to ask, but a feeling, an emotion, is something we experience inside us. Like..." She snapped her fingers in his face, causing him to blink and lean back. He didn't bite her hand off, so it was fine. "Happiness. Remember that?"

He scratched his chin. "Happiness? Is that a feeling?"

"Yeah."

The demon prince rested his arm on the low table. Without the plate of meat and the goblet of Cani wine, it was spacious. In fact, the room was leagues better from when she visited last. Oil-stuffed lanterns sat on the room's four corners, their flames flickering on the cloth wick dipped into their basins. Thank the heavens she could see. She never realized he had warm chestnut skin.

"Then, I would say I am happiness," he said.

A snort flitted off her nose, throwing her head forward. Locks escaped her braids and flopped to her face. She tucked it behind her ear with a quick swipe. "You don't say it like that," she said. "You say 'I am happy'. Not...that."

"Oh." He scrunched his face. Even though she laughed, he wasn't pissed. He didn't appear as though he wanted to bite her head clean off. And she giggled like an idiot before a creature who could devour her if he willed, one who has a secret that hurt a bride and eventually killed her.

And here she was—laughing.

Her amusement dried up. The prince didn't appear to notice the shift in her mood.

"How about you?" He averted his eyes as though to hide a blush. His cheeks remained faithful to his complexion. Could the Mayaware feel blood rise to their faces? Did they have blood at all? Where did he learn to do that? That was such a human thing. "How have you been?"

She didn't need to think twice about her reply. "Fine."

The prince frowned. "Not 'happy'?"

What did that word even mean now? It was pointless to define it, and no mortal succeeded. Maybe demons had a different name for it or tied it to a different sensation, and she wasn't the sharpest sickle in the cart to understand it.

"No." She sighed. It was her turn to avert her gaze to her feet folded to the side.

"But you were laughing a while ago." Mezo's scrunched features were more in confusion than in annoyance. "Isn't that what happiness is?"

She opened her mouth then closed it again. Another pointless endeavor, but maybe she would try putting a pin on it. "There are many kinds of happiness, and humans feel them in a variety of ways," she said. "We laugh because we feel a temporary happiness—one that can vanish when bad things happen."

She raised her pointer finger. "That is what I experienced earlier," she said. "The other happiness—the one I said humans strive for but never achieve—is the everlasting kind. It is a state of mind, an ideal met, and a situation no amount of bad things can take away."

He sniffed. Maybe he didn't understand it. Or maybe she underestimated him. She should stop doing that to everyone she meets. "Are bad things taking away your happiness, Hesi?" he asked.

By the second, his questions became harder to answer. He resembled a child, someone who has many things to learn about the world. It should be easier to push him around, but somehow, he ran her in circles. What should she think of that?

"Aren't you bored with me already?" She ventured instead. "Considering the brides you met, haven't you got better uses of your time?"

"I would rather talk to you than other humans." He clasped the edge of the table, his claws cracking splinters. "I do not go out of this room, but when you walk in, I get to see the world outside."

She scoffed. "How can you spout these things without hesitation?"

The demon prince ran a hand over his bald head. "Am I supposed to?" he said. "I am not an expert in these...feelings."

Her laugh was dry. "I can see that."

"Is fear a feeling?" The demon prince tilted his head in askance.

She chewed on her lip. "Yes. Why?"

"I don't sense it in you."

If only she had an answer to that. She had not an inkling how Mayaware sensed human emotions. She did not know how they differentiate between happiness from fear without knowing what they meant. It was strange how Mezophis knew fear but never happiness. She wasn't one to understand though. Or care.

"Fear, unlike happiness, never leaves us." Her finger traced lazy circles over the table's surface. Her nails rapped against peeling paint and exposed splinters courtesy of Mezo's claws. "You might not sense it now, but it's there. Under the surface."

She leveled her gaze at the prince. "Maybe I wasn't scared of you."

A flash of realization passed across his face. "That is what separates you from the others. It is...refreshing," he said. "Is that what humans call the feeling of finding something unique, unusual, and...strangely beautiful?" He slapped his forehead. "Sorry, I am still learning Birejyet."

"No, no. That's actually..." She gulped. "That was good."

His face brightened. She didn't know why, but her heart twinged along with it. A simple praise elevated his mood, straightened his back, and puffed his chest. He reminded her of Unsu so much her breath hitched and her gut clenched.

"Yes, I feel refreshed when you take the place opposite me. It is novel," he continued, oblivious of her silent dilemma. "That is why I was drawn to you—a woman who does not fear me."

She propped her chin on her palm. "Bit of a first, isn't it?"

"I apologize for not understanding immediately," Mezo replied. "Fear is the first thing a Mayaware must learn. We love inflicting it to our prey and to those we deem lower than us. Fear is our weapon."

"But it can also be your undoing," she finished for him. "Correct?"

"Correct," the demon prince said. "There were times I wish we never moved past our primitive days because operating on kill-or-be-killed is better than...this."

Her eyebrows met in the middle. "What do you mean?"

He glanced at her, gauging her interest from head to toe. "Our culture didn't emerge overnight. We learned from you, back when you believed you were at the top of the world," he said. "We took everything we understood and made it our own. But what happened in the trial made me realize we reflected things this world can live without.

"Violence. Bloodlust. The thirst for survival," he continued when she failed to add anything useful. Because it was true. And having it dictated to her by a member of a demonic race was an eye-opener.

"Do you think you are at the top of the world now?" she asked.

The demon prince didn't blink or think when he said, "Yes. And we do not deserve it."

She let her hand flop on her lap. "For the empire's prince, you surely have conflicting views about what you're going to rule someday," she noted.

"I have time," the demon prince said. "It is easy to see things one normally won't when focused on more important things."

"You can't even imagine how much I agree with you," she blurted.

"Do you agree the Mayaware need not exist?"

"Y—No." She shook her head to emphasize her point. Her earring—the one containing the poison meant to freeze these demons to death—clinked and slapped her cheek. "I don't believe the Mayaware has to go. Maybe we can—I don't know—exist in peace?"

He chuckled. It was such a gentle sound. Open. Trusting. "Would that bring your happiness back, Hesi?"

A different sort of cold gripped her limbs, freezing her in place. Mezophis flipped the conversation off its feet and brought it back with such guile she didn't anticipate. She truly has to stop underestimating anyone in Berheqt. They wouldn't have survived if they were as naïve as her.

"It was never given to me in the first place." Her voice was quiet. Sad. She never acknowledged that emotion until now, and she hated it. She needed anger. Fear. Melancholy had no place in her heart until everything was over—whether she emerged victorious or as a mountain of crushed bones.

She gave a dismissive wave and smoothed her dress and her shawl. "Enough of that," she said. "We wouldn't want to delve into our secrets on our second meeting."

"Why not?" he asked. "I think it is...nice."

She narrowed her eyes. "Why? Do you have one?"

Something flickered across the demon prince's face. A shroud of worry? A flicker of fear? Whatever it was, a mask of pretense replaced it. "No. I don't." He rubbed a hand against the back of his neck. "I'm as plain as you think."

A blatant lie. At least, with him, she could tell when he told the truth and when he wanted to hide things from her. Something hurt Mensa in these quarters, and if it wasn't him, then who? If it was the prince, then how could this near-bumbling fool tear through Mensa's flesh, leaving her for dead?

"What can I do to gain your trust?" She blurted, betraying her thoughts about the prince's poor attempt at concealing his truth.

When he met her gaze again, the dark cloud returned in his slitted eyes. It settled longer than a passing flare. "Live on," was all he said before jerking his chin towards the door. "I had another fruitful talk with you. I'll see you after the next trial."

The urgency in his voice alone drove her to her feet. Something would happen, and from the darkness crowding his tone and gaze, she would not like it. "Go," Mezo said again, a growl faintly lacing in his voice. "Please."

She pushed off the table and retreated to the door. She rapped her knuckles against the stone twice. Sunlight poured from outside. Claws grabbed her arms, trading one hell to another. Her ears registered not a noise, not a single rustle of feet or fabric from the other side the moment the slab of stone sealed off Mezo from the rest of civilization.

She could only wonder about what she would find and what would find her if she stayed.