Deroki leaned back in his chair, a sharp smile curving his lips as he tapped his fingers on the armrest. "You've been keeping him away from me, Marisel?" he asked, his voice laced with amusement and a faint edge of excitement. It had been too long since something—or someone—had intrigued him this much, not since he chose to walk among mortals.
The House of Hestros and the gods have maintained a deep, interwoven bond for centuries, a connection that has shaped the world. Together, they ruled the Kingdom of Hestros, with the gods guiding the kingdom's prosperity and the Hestros royalty fortifying the gods' power. Deroki, the first of the gods to be born as a mortal, answered the fervent prayers of King Kalika's barren wife. He chose to descend into her womb, becoming the heir to the Kalika throne, and solidifying the divine union between the gods and the royal family. He wasn't as heartless as people thought him to be. Although, he should have informed the King that his wife would die during childbirth. Birthing a divine being wasn't an easy feat, after all.
Marisel crossed her arms tightly over her chest, her sharp features set in defiance. "Keep your hands to yourself, Deroki. Don't go near him. He's not ready for you yet."
"Not ready for me?" Deroki repeated, his tone almost mocking. He tilted his head, his dark eyes glinting with mischief. "Why, Marisel? Have you been preparing him especially for me?"
"Don't be a sleaze," Marisel shot back, her voice firm but tinged with irritation. "You should be indecent."
Deroki chuckled, leaning back further in his chair. "That's not new."
He laced his fingers behind his head and propped his long legs up on the ornate table in front of him, a picture of casual arrogance. "You know," he said lazily, "you should just initiate him. Let's not drag this out."
Marisel's posture stiffened. A flicker of unease crossed her face, and Deroki caught it immediately. She rarely showed vulnerability—he liked pushing her buttons, and it was clear he'd struck a nerve.
"He's worth more than being just another vaisa," she snapped. "Just because he grew up in the monastery doesn't make him fit for the enclave life."
Deroki's grin widened, revealing a flash of sharp teeth. "Do you have grander plans for him? Perhaps you're planning to recruit him into the army? But then again, why is he exhausting the Enclave's resources if he's not serving his purpose?"
Marisel huffed, her tone turning clipped. "Just… stay away from him, Deroki. He's none of your concern."
Deroki's gaze darkened, though his smile didn't waver. "Oh, but I'm afraid I can't do that, Mari. You see, I'm a man of virtue. I must treat everyone equally." His tone turned mockingly solemn. "Prepare for his initiation."
Marisel's jaw tightened, her teeth clenched so hard Deroki thought he could hear it across the hall. Her eyes burned with anger, but before she could retort, the heavy door swung open, and one of the palace guards entered, holding a document.
"The Enclave omega sent this document," the guard announced, handing the parchment to Deroki.
He took it with an air of disinterest, unfolding it slowly. The moment his eyes landed on the only name written on the page—Gabe Kirk—a laugh burst from him, loud and uncontrollable. He doubled over, clutching his stomach as his laughter echoed through the chamber.
"Oh, Marisel," he wheezed, tears glinting in the corners of his eyes. "You should have known. No one would ever sign off on this nonsense. If the Enclave Vaisas were meant to be scholars, they wouldn't be serving the royal bedchambers."
"I feel bad for him," Deroki mocked, pressing a hand theatrically to his chest.
"You have no heart," Marisel spat, her voice trembling with fury.
Deroki's laughter subsided, and his smirk turned razor-sharp. "No heart?" he mused, his voice dropping to a dangerous purr. "Perhaps. But I do have other… assets." He leaned forward, his gaze boring into hers. "Prepare him, Mari. Make him ready for me."
Marisel's lips pressed into a thin line, her fists clenched at her sides. Her defiance was palpable, but Deroki could see the conflict warring in her eyes.
"Deroki…" she began, her voice low and warning, but he cut her off with a raised hand, his smirk firmly in place.
"It's already decided," he said, his voice firm, leaving no room for dissent. The playful glint in his eyes sharpened, amplifying the weight of his command. "The administration already knows of his existence after the stunt he pulled this morning. Hiding him now is not just futile—it's insulting to my authority."
Deroki leaned back, his long fingers drumming against the armrest. "He's been walking the halls under your protection for too long, Marisel. It's time he did what he is meant to do." His tone turned dangerously soft. "Prepare him."