"Restrictions, huh?" Damon muttered under his breath, his gaze lingering on the woman kneeling before him.
The word rolled around in his head, heavy with implication. This wasn’t just about power limitations. This could be an opening. A crack in the wall of silence everyone else seemed determined to maintain.
For the first time in a long while, he realized he might be standing in front of someone who could actually talk to him.
Someone who wouldn’t deflect with riddles like Blood Reign or act like an unhelpful, smug dickhead like La Rocha. Both of them clearly knew far more than they let on, but one refused out of sheer indifference while the other hid behind the excuse of "for your own good."
Then there was the other snake woman, hostile, arrogant, and outright dismissive from the start. Another dead end.
But Eryndral... she was different.
Completely different. Not only had she submitted without a fight, but she addressed him as "Your Highness" and offered her claws, fangs, and magic without condition. If her loyalty was genuine, she might be the first person in this damned world willing to give him straight answers.
And I need those answers, Damon thought, his eyes narrowing as he looked at the system prompt again.
"Eryndra- Wait. Can I just call you Erin? Yup, that’s much better."
Eryndral’s head tilted slightly at the sudden change, her serpent-slit eyes blinking once in what might have been surprise. Then, slowly, she nodded. "If it pleases you, my highness, you may call me whatever you wish." Her lips curved into the faintest smile, making her look even more mesmerizing than before.
"Perfect." Damon stepped closer. "Can you get up now? We have a lot to chat about."
"Yes, your highness."
Erin rose gracefully. Even standing at her full height, she kept her head slightly bowed and waited patiently for Damon’s word.
Damon scratched his head awkwardly. Of course, he loved the fact that the monstrous dragon snake beast in front of him was now obedient and faithful to him, but a person acting this way in front of him made him very uncomfortable.
"Listen, Erin. You do not have to be so formal with me."
Erin blinked at him, her expression unreadable for a moment before the faintest trace of confusion crossed her features. "But... you are my highness. It is only proper."
"Yeah, well," Damon said, waving a hand dismissively, "I’m not exactly the crown-and-throne type. If you keep bowing and calling me ’my highness’ every two seconds, I’m going to start feeling like I need to wear some ridiculous royal crown. And I hate crowns. I think they are very obnoxious. On the nose."
Erin smiled. "Then... how would you prefer I address you?"
"My Lord," he said simply. "All the others use the same thing, so you might as well too. At least it doesn’t make me feel like I should be sitting on some oversized golden chair."
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