The pillows were too soft. Far too soft. N'Arahn had to constantly fight the unpleasant feeling that the colourful sofa could swallow him up. One wrong move and he would be lost forever in the silky embrace of the cushions.

Uncomfortably, the demonlord adjusted his belt to conceal his slipping back from the cushions. His feet searched in vain for a firmer footing on the pliant, thick carpet. The fact that he couldn't feel the floor because he was wearing boots didn't exactly improve his mood.

Krehn made him wait, and deliberately so. It was her prerogative as mistress of her fortress, and the schemers were also known for not having the best manners. But for one thing, N'Arahn didn't like this kind of game, and for another, he knew the demonduchess too well. She could be quite exceptionally polite, to the point where he felt nauseous.

That meant she had a good reason to keep him waiting, even if it was only to make him feel his position as a supplicant.

He suppressed the annoyed growl that rose in his throat. Apart from the unseen eyes and ears that were surely watching this room, the adjutant was kneeling beside the sofa. He had led N'Arahn into the room and offered to entertain him. More precisely, his words had been: 'The mistress wants you to have a pleasant stay. I am authorised to get you any drink you wish. I may also offer myself to you.'

The words had stuck in N'Arahn's mind, for he did not like the obsequiousness with which the young demon had spoken. His lean but wiry figure suggested a warmonger aspirant; the adjutant would probably have made an excellent archer by now. He should want to fight, not surrender to a fate as a plaything.

The warrior's thoughts wandered to Veidja, who he had left behind in his fortress. She refused to surrender. No matter how many times she was thrown into the dust, she got back up and challenged him. That was the right attitude.

The waiting made him restless and apathetic at the same time. His hands constantly wanted to pull at something and move, while his thoughts began to spin in circles like a sluggish maelstrom. No, you're not going to wear me down that easily, sister.

To keep himself occupied, he began to explore the details of the room. As if he were on the hunt for a shy game, he kept himself in calm concentration, relaxing his eyes and letting every little detail sink in.

The walls of the room were whitewashed, a colour that was difficult to obtain in the Red Depths. None of the many fabrics, whether as carpets on the floor, as knotted wall decorations or as covers for cushions and upholstery, seemed to have a single stain, loose thread or scuff. Everything was colourful, bold tones jostled with each other, but were combined in such a balanced way that they created a harmonious effect. A display case made of wood, not ironwood; it must have been difficult to get hold of the material. It contained a few selected crystals, possibly jewellery, possibly crystallised mana, possibly stored knowledge.

Everything here was exclusive, expensive, impressive. If you were interested in material possessions and their display. The room was exactly what he had expected from Krehn. And probably led the conclusions drawn about its owner in precisely the wrong direction.

A movement suddenly caught N'Arahn's attention. No, not the movement itself; a gemstone had reflected the light in the room as a glare. The adjutant was still kneeling beside the sofa, but had shifted his weight slightly. N'Arahn wasn't particularly interested in jewellery, so it was only now that he really noticed the open front choker the demon was wearing. He had sorted it out as a potential threat at a glance, as the budding warmonger would have had to more or less pull the metal through his neck to take it off. The opening was too narrow and sharp-edged. However, the circlet was adorned with sapphires all around; one of these had just aroused his vigilance with its lustre. A demon shackle? That would explain his behaviour.

The silvery choker blended in well with the young demon's overall impression. His skin was very pale, also had a bluish tinge to it that gave him a half-frozen appearance. N'Arahn couldn't tell if it was simply a colouration or perhaps an extremely short fur. The carefully trimmed hair, decorated with shaved patterns, shone in turquoise and light blue. A flat horn shield ran from the adjutant's temple to the nape of his neck above his ear, its crest shining sea-green. Even though he could only see one side of the face, N'Arahn dimly remembered that the shield had grown evenly on both sides.

A few scales added and you could be an inspiration for the legends of mermen among the humans.

He had seen him before, he was sure of it. Krehn had probably brought him to the festival as a servant. Why was he here? Was he being punished? Was he a test? Schemers didn't just do things, everything was subordinate to a plan. N'Arahn favoured the straightforward approach, the confrontation, but sometimes he had to resort to the means of the other castes. Even though he knew that he would not be able to comprehend or even foresee the tortuous thought processes of a demoness of Krehn's age and calibre, he had to try not to approach the upcoming negotiation naively.

With caution, the demonlord sucked in the air and tried to smell the adjutant's odour among all the perfume that made the room a guarantee for a headache. No, he did not succeed. Even the energy he was able to detect, despite the obstructions of the foreign fortress, was muffled and blurred.

Before he was tempted to waste more mana on investigating the demon, the splendidly carved door opened. Krehn stepped inside in her usual exquisite, floor-length robes. She was not particularly tall, but filled the doorway with ease, both with her body and her presence. A radiant smile spread across her furrowed face, while every step she took made the jewellery on her hands, arms, horns and probably ankles tinkle. Krehn was the opposite of subtle and the source of a cordiality that was extremely rare in the Red Depths.

Of course, this was largely part of her overall concept, the friendly and harmless merchant who commanded better prices as a result. And yet... N'Arahn had come to the conclusion at some point that the demonduchess wasn't just playing this role. Of course she was cunning, calculating and manipulative. But there was something else and he was careful not to underestimate her. In his experience, it paid to treat her with respect and a certain amount of trust. She was the only schemer he traded with. Perhaps the only one among the inhabitants of the Red Depths whom he trusted to some extent.

Glad to finally escape the hungry cushions, the warmonger stood up and bowed appropriately low to express courtesy. He gave the mistress of the fortress a slight smile.

Krehn braced her arms at her sides, the hoops around her wrists slipping downwards and producing a many-voiced clink.

"N'Arahn! You in my humble home. It really has been a long time. I'm glad you're here." She laughed. Although he remained cautious, he couldn't hear any reproach or other kind of sharpness in her tone.

"Thank you for welcoming me. Your hospitality has lost none of its quality."

"Ah, I should hope so." She studied him from top to bottom and nodded approvingly. "You haven't lost any of your quality either. And you're even dressed decently again." She winked mischievously and he grinned wryly in return. He himself wasn't particularly fond of the more formal clothes he wore, but it hadn't been hard to guess that they would put Krehn in a good mood.

With a grand gesture, the demonduchess pointed to the colourful sofa. "Why don't you sit down; it's more cosy." She dropped herself into a lilac-coloured armchair and snapped her fingers, whereupon the pale blue adjutant jumped up and poured her a drink from a carafe on a small table. As soon as he had handed her the fine glass, he sank back onto his knees next to the sofa and bowed his head.

N'Arahn's face twisted briefly at the thought of going back into the embrace of the multi-coloured monster, but it was out of the question for him to remain standing. With barely concealed reluctance, he sat down on the front edge.

"Don't you want anything? Nuuro would be happy to bring you a treat."

The demonlord shook his head slightly. "I appreciate that. But I don't want to take up too much of your time." He wanted to get back to his fortress, for so many reasons.

"Ah, all right. Straight to the negotiations, as always." The schemer smiled and ran a hand over her grey hair, adding, "You can always change your mind." N'Arahn nodded, then silently pointed to the adjutant.

"Sure." In several quick movements, Krehn placed different fingers together, her rings clicking against each other. The sapphires on Nuuro's choker began to glow. Their light spread in rays across the demon's neck and face until his eyes lit up blue from within. With a rather pained groan, the budding warmonger put his head back in his neck and then remained still. Interesting. The demon shackle was activated and would prevent him from seeing and hearing as long as it pleased his mistress.

With the schemer firmly in focus, N'Arahn began to explain his request.