"I'm… sorry."
Lysandra's words drifted through the night air like a confession carried on the wind. Below them, the Nightweave capital sprawled in peaceful silence, purple trees swaying along the distant mountains.
"The shadows in the trial—they weren't entirely wrong about me."
Joshua leaned against the balcony railing, saying nothing. This wasn't the demon princess speaking. This was the woman he'd only caught glimpses of.
"When you first walked into my throne room, I did feel nothing. Just like I admitted during the fight." Her knuckles went white against the stone railing. "You were another sacrifice. Another political chess piece I could discard when convenient."
"This isn't news, Princess." Joshua's voice held no anger, just tired honesty. "You tried to kill me five minutes after we met. Why bring this up now?"
"Because you've already done more for me than I would've ever expected you to. Not once have you questioned me. My motives. Despite how we met, for some reason you seem to cling on to this strange stubbornness."
Joshua studied her profile in the moonlight. "It was for survival at first," he admitted. "What good would questioning you do for me? A demon princess with power as fierce as her beauty. I didn't want to die."
She looked down at the ground, her voice softening. "That's a bit straightforward… prince."
"I'm meeting your honesty with my own," he spoke with a tiny hint of passion. "I cannot count the number of times I've been so terrified that my life would end, and I would be powerless to stop it. But you changed as did my reasons for carrying on."
Lysandra turned to face him fully. "Changed how?"
"You stopped trying to kill me and started trying to forge me into something stronger. Your threats became motivation. Your tests became… trust, I think." Joshua rubbed the back of his neck. "Hard to explain."
A small smile tugged at her lips. "You're not wrong."
She took a few paces before resting her shoulders square against the door of the chamber.
"I've been alive twenty-one years—prime marriage age for demon royalty. The way it usually works is simple: the human sacrifice dies quickly, then we court demons across the realm until someone survives long enough to marry."
"Was I your first?"
"Yes. The ancient pact demands the first candidate come from the human realm." Her smile turned rueful. "You're the first human to actually be accepted as a real candidate. And I'm the fool who allowed it."
"Do you regret it?"
Lysandra was quiet for a long moment, her gaze turning to watch the mana-lit rivers flow through the city below.
"No," she said finally. "You were right earlier—I do trust you. Even if I still don't understand what you are."
Joshua frowned. "What do you mean?"
"Your strange ability to control blood." Lysandra began pacing the small balcony. "There are four types of magic: Fire, Earth, Void, and Essence. Demons have a special ability to inherit bloodline traits. This is the only time magic outside of these four elements are used. Mine is soul magic, which combined with fire creates—"
"Soul Burn. Right."
"Exactly. But you possess blood magic, which should only be possible through a bloodline trait. One that would have to be long forgotten." She stopped pacing, meeting his eyes. "But you're human, Joshua. It shouldn't be possible. I think that's why the Overseer took interest in you."
A chill crawled down Joshua's spine. "There's more, isn't there?"
Lysandra's expression grew grave. "The trials, the pact between our kingdoms—none of it was created to maintain peace."
"Then what—?"
"It was a poor excuse to justify the wars fought in silence. A provable lie so the Humans and the Demons could carry on their fight beneath the nose of their civilians."
The wind picked up, carrying the scent of the capital's night markets. Joshua felt like he was standing on the edge of a cliff, about to learn something that would change everything.
"What's coming, Lysandra?"
"War. Real war." Her voice dropped to barely above a whisper. "Not border skirmishes or political posturing. Something that will consume both our realms entirely."
Joshua's blood went cold. "The Overseers—"
"Aren't just watchers. They're preparing for something, and I do not know what. You're a complication." Lysandra moved beside him, her hand finding his. "To the overseers. To the royal court. And even me."
Her touch was warm, surprisingly gentle.
"But here's what I need you to understand." She took a shaky breath. "Somewhere between watching you refuse to break and fighting alongside you, I began to see you as more than a tool."
"What do I look like now?"
"Like someone I might actually want to fight beside." The words came out rushed, like she was afraid she'd lose her nerve.
The confession hung between them, fragile and precious.
Joshua felt something shift in his chest—not the system's notifications or the pull of blood magic, but something entirely human.
"Lysandra." He turned his hand to properly hold hers. "I need you to know something too."
She waited, tension radiating from every line of her body.
"I don't care if I started as your weapon or experiment or mistake," Joshua continued. "I want to understand you better. Your reason and motivations. And I want to keep fighting alongside you as well."
Her breath caught in her throat.
"Even knowing what tomorrow will bring?"
"Especially knowing that." Joshua's voice grew stronger. "Whatever hell we're walking into, you'll be next to me. So, it'll end up okay."
The demon princess who had once tried to kill him leaned forward, resting her forehead against his.
"You impossible, stubborn man," she whispered. "How am I supposed to respond when you see through me so easily?"
In the distance, the capital's bells chimed midnight, marking the beginning of their final day before the Trial of Memory.
Lysandra pulled back to look at him, vulnerability and steel warring in her scarlet eyes. "Promise me something."
"Anything."
"Tomorrow—" She hesitated, then forced the words out. "Don't let the memories convince you that this was a mistake. That I'm not..."
"Worth it?" Joshua finished softly.
She nodded.
"Only if you promise me something in return."
Confusion spread across her face.
"When you're back there," he said quietly, "remember that you're not that helpless child anymore. You're the woman who chose to save me instead of kill me. That has to count for something."
Lysandra's breath caught, and for a moment her carefully constructed walls crumbled entirely.
"You really are going to be the death of me, aren't you?"
"Now you understand how I feel," Joshua teased with a small smile.
Lysandra laughed warmly, different from what he was used to.
"Come on," she said, standing and pulling him toward the balcony doors. "If we're going to face the Trials tomorrow, we should at least get some sleep first."
"Together?" Joshua raised an eyebrow.
"Together," she confirmed, a faint blush coloring her cheeks. "I find I sleep easier when I'm near someone who can watch my back."
"Even someone who wields kingdom ending blood magic?"
"Especially someone like that." Lysandra's smile held a hint of her usual edge. "Besides, if you try anything inappropriate, I'll simply have to kill you."
"Scary," Joshua said playfully, following her inside. "Though I should mention, death threats from you are starting to sound suspiciously like terms of endearment."
"Shut up," Lysandra snapped back, but her smile widened.
As they got ready for what could be their final quiet evening, neither brought up the dread eating away at them. The horror of confronting their worst memories. The chance that one or both might not make it through what lay ahead.
Instead, they concentrated on the warmth of being together, the relief of not facing things alone, and the delicate, valuable bond that had developed between them.
Tomorrow had its own struggles, but tonight they had each other's company.