The heavy obsidian corridors of the Black Obsidian Throne seemed to stretch into an infinite darkness, the silence broken only by the rhythmic, sharp click of boots against the polished stone floors. Demon Lord Kaelen moved with a swagger that spoke of a man who held the sun in his pocket, his golden-trimmed leather and deep crimson silks shimmering even in the dim, atmospheric lighting of Malphas’s home. Leading him was a random butler, a thin, nervous-looking man named Pimm, who seemed to be vibrating with the sheer effort of not collapsing under the weight of Kaelen’s radiant, desert-hot aura. Pimm held a silver candelabra aloft, the flames flickering wildly as they passed through the drafty, vaulted hallways where ancient tapestries of forgotten wars hung like dormant ghosts.

  When they finally arrived at the heart of the castle, two colossal doors, forged from a dark, star-flecked metal that swallowed the light, stood as the final barrier. With a groan of ancient hinges that sounded like the cry of a mountain giant, the doors swung open, revealing the grand meeting hall.

  The room was cavernous, dominated by a massive, oval table carved from a single slab of obsidian, polished to such a high sheen that it reflected the swirling purple sky visible through the narrow, high-set windows. The windows themselves were partially obscured by heavy, dark purple curtains that billowed slightly in the stagnant air. Above them, a balcony circled the room like a square hole cut into the ceiling of a mall, though the darkness above was so thick that the intricate carvings and gold leaf remained a mystery. A single, impossibly long wooden ladder leaned against one corner, disappearing into the shadows of the rafters.

  Inside, the room was mostly empty. Of the multiple high-quality chairs, each upholstered in the finest dragon-hide leather and reinforced with enchanted silver, only one was occupied.

  Demon Lord Cordelia sat there, looking remarkably unbothered by the gravity of the situation. She was currently occupied with a large, succulent piece of roasted monster meat, her movements graceful yet surprisingly efficient. She didn't look up as Kaelen entered, but the corner of her mouth quirked into a subtle, knowing smirk.

  Kaelen didn't offer a greeting. Instead, he marched to the opposite end of the table, claiming a seat as far away from Cordelia as possible, his heavy cape fluttering behind him like a dying flame. He sank into the plush, high-backed chair with a grunt of satisfaction, leaning back and crossing his boots over the table’s edge.

  Pimm, the nervous butler, stepped forward, his voice cracking slightly. "Would... would my Lord require any sustenance while we wait for the host?"

  Kaelen flashed a predatory, toothy grin. "Food. Lots of it. And make it quick, I didn't come here to starve in the dark."

  In no time flat, three other butlers emerged from the side entrances, moving with synchronized precision as they laid out a feast. Plates piled high with exotic fruits, thick slabs of peppered meat, and bowls of steaming, aromatic soup were placed before him. Kaelen fell upon the food with the same intensity he brought to a battlefield, tearing into a leg of lamb with reckless abandon.

  Cordelia watched him for a moment out of the corner of her eye before muttering something under her breath, her voice like velvet dipped in irony. "Men will be men. Always thinking with their stomachs before their heads."

  Kaelen heard her, of course, but he only responded by taking a loud, defiant slurp of his soup.

  ─── ??☆?? ───

  Back at the main entrance of the castle, Valerius, the Head Butler, stood with a posture so straight it looked painful. He reached into the pocket of his perfectly pressed waistcoat and pulled out a small, ornate hourglass. The last few grains of silver sand slipped through the neck and settled at the bottom. The time for arrivals was officially over.

  With a sigh that carried the weight of a thousand years of service, Valerius turned and walked toward the inner sanctum, closing the massive front doors behind him with a final, echoing thud. Outside, the courtyard fell into a relative silence, leaving me, Lyra, and the rest of the gathered guards and servants in a state of restless anticipation. We stood under the bruised, purple sky, the black clouds churning overhead like a pot of boiling ink, wondering exactly what kind of verbal or magical carnage was about to take place inside.

  Valerius marched through the halls, his footsteps silent on the stone, until he reached the meeting room. He signaled to the other butlers who were hovering around the perimeter, those who didn't have a specific Demon Lord to serve, and gestured for them to leave. Once the room was cleared of unnecessary ears, he stepped toward the table and bowed deeply to the two seated rulers.

  "Lord Malphas will be here shortly. Please enjoy the meal while you wait," Valerius stated, his voice the epitome of professional calm. "Please, ask the butler stationed next to you if you require anything further. We thank you for your patience."

  He then moved to the side, taking up a stationary position next to the closed door, his eyes forward, his expression a blank mask of duty.

  Cordelia, however, wasn't done playing. She leaned back in her chair, swirling a glass of deep red liquid that I assumed was wine, and let her gaze drift toward the Head Butler. "My, my, Valerius. I remember you when you were so young. You used to be so sexy back then, always so flustered when I’d visit. Time really flies by, doesn't it?"

  Valerius didn't even blink, though the slight twitch in his left eyebrow suggested he was trying his absolute best to ignore the comment. He was clearly not happy about being reminded of his age by a woman who looked like she hadn't aged a day in three centuries. Whether she meant it as a genuine compliment or a jab at his mortality was a mystery only Cordelia knew the answer to.

  Kaelen let out a sharp, barking laugh, wiping grease from his chin with the back of his hand. "Still a whore, I see, Cordelia. Always hunting for a fresh face, even if it’s a butler."

  Cordelia didn't miss a beat, her voice dropping into a teasing, sing-song lilt. "Oh, you're just jealous, Kaelen. Jealous because I was head over heels for Malphas and never gave you a second glance. It must be hard being the 'golden boy' that nobody wants to take home."

  Kaelen’s grin turned sharp. "And why should I care who you're into? Besides, your taste in men is about as refined as your taste in—"

  The doors at the far end of the hall swung open with a bang.

  Malphas stepped into the room, his presence immediately sucking the air out of the space. The temperature, which had been uncomfortably warm due to Kaelen, plunged into a crisp, biting chill. He didn't say a word as he walked to the head of the table, his obsidian-black coat trailing behind him like a shadow. He took his seat, his Mystic Eyes shifting slowly as he surveyed the two rulers sitting before him.

  He let out a long, disappointing sigh, the sound echoing in the high rafters. "Only two this time, huh?"

  Kaelen leaned back, his smirk returning. "World record there, mate. I think the others were too scared of the 'ghost' you’ve been rambling about to show their faces."

  Malphas replied coldly, "It seems like it. Though I suppose I should be grateful I only have to listen to two of you bicker."

  Just as Malphas was about to start the formal proceedings, Kaelen reached for a tankard on the table, took a sip, and immediately made a face as if he’d swallowed a lemon. "I really should have brought my own root beer. I forgot the swill you serve here sucks. It tastes like fermented swamp water."

  This tale has been pilfered from Royal Road. If found on Amazon, kindly file a report.

  Cordelia raised an eyebrow, leaning forward. "Oh, you’re just used to that syrupy, overly sweet mess you produce at your place, Kaelen. Now shut up and behave for once. We’re here for a reason."

  Kaelen gave a mocking smirk. "Well, at least I have the best root beer in the world. People travel across provinces just for a taste of the Golden Draught."

  Cordelia countered with a smirk of her own, one that clearly wanted the last word in the conversation. "You might have the best beer, but the Kingdom of Hearts has the best wine in all the realms. One bottle of my vintage is worth your entire brewery."

  Kaelen’s grin widened. "Well, at least we both have very tasty drinks. I’d even drink the wine at your place rather than this garbage Malphas calls a cellar."

  Malphas sat there, his fingers drumming rhythmically against the obsidian table. It was clear a nerve had been struck. He prided himself on the quality of his domain, and hearing Kaelen brag about beer and Cordelia brag about wine while insulting his hospitality was starting to grate on his legendary patience.

  He gave a cold, calculated smirk, letting the silence build until the tension in the room was almost physical. "You two might have alcohol," he said softly, "but we have the best..." he paused, his crimson eyes locking onto theirs, "the best tea."

  Kaelen burst into a fit of raucous laughter, nearly choking on his soup. But Cordelia? Her eyes went a little wider, her playful expression flickering for just a second.

  "Wow, Malphas," she said, her voice laced with mock-sympathy. "I knew you weren't much of a drinker, but really? The best tea? You’re obviously just trying to flex something you don't have. Everyone knows the Kingdom of Hearts has the best tea in the world. My mountain-grown leaves are legendary."

  Malphas didn't argue. He simply raised a hand, a small, subtle gesture.

  Valerius knew immediately what it meant. Without a word, he opened the doors just a crack, sneaked out, and closed them behind him.

  ─── ??☆?? ───

  The hallway outside was a blur. Valerius moved with a speed that defied his elderly appearance, creating a cloudy portal of mana right in front of the meeting room doors. He stepped through, and a second later, he materialized directly in front of me and Lyra.

  We were currently walking toward the servants' wing at the back of the massive castle, still discussing the beautiful Demon Lord Cordelia. I nearly walked right into Valerius’s chest as he appeared out of thin air.

  "Akari! Lyra!" he snapped, his voice urgent. "Master needs tea. Now. The high-grade blend from the silver tin. And it needs to be perfect."

  "Now?" I asked, blinking in confusion. "But the meeting just started!"

  "Master is currently in a... hospitality contest," Valerius explained, his eyes darting back toward the portal. "Move! Quickly!"

  He grabbed our arms and, before I could even protest, the world warped. We were suddenly standing in the middle of the main kitchen. The chefs looked up in surprise as we appeared among the steam and the scent of roasting meat.

  "Make it! A huge amount!" Valerius ordered.

  Lyra and I scrambled. I grabbed the silver tin, measuring out the leaves with trembling hands, while Lyra stoked the fire and got the water to the precise temperature. We worked in a frantic, silent harmony. I poured the boiling water over the leaves, watching as they unfurled, releasing a scent that was floral, earthy, and strangely energizing.

  Valerius got the porcelain cups ready, his hands moving like a blur as he set the tray with delicate, gold-rimmed saucers. Once the tea had steeped to perfection, he looked at Lyra.

  "Lyra, you are to stay here and prepare for the cleanup afterward. Akari, you are coming with me. You will serve the tea."

  My heart did a somersault. "Me? Alone? In there?"

  "You made it, you serve it," Valerius said, his tone leaving no room for argument.

  I took the heavy silver tray, my hands shaking so much the cups rattled against each other. Valerius placed a hand on my shoulder, his expression softening for a fraction of a second. "Walk straight. Do not look at their faces unless spoken to. You can do this."

  He led me back to the meeting hall. When the massive doors opened, the air hit me like a physical wall. It wasn't just the heat or the cold; it was the crushing pressure of three different Demon Lord auras mixing in the air. It felt like walking through a thunderstorm while being watched by hungry wolves.

  I tried to walk straight, focusing on the center of the table. I could feel the weight of their gazes. To my left, Kaelen looked bored and dismissive. At the head of the table, Malphas sat with a look of smug expectation. And to my right... I could feel Demon Lord Cordelia’s eyes burning into the side of my head. She wasn't just looking; she was analyzing me, a small, curious smile playing on her lips.

  I reached the table and, with a precision I didn't know I possessed, placed the cups in front of the three rulers. I left the tray for Valerius to handle and, without a word, turned and walked back toward the door.

  Every step felt like a mile. By the time I stepped out of the room and the doors closed behind me, I felt as if I had just finished running around the entire earth. I leaned against the stone wall, my lungs burning, my forehead slick with sweat.

  "I'm alive," I whispered, sliding down to the floor. "I’m actually alive."

  I sat there for a moment, catching my breath, before pushing myself up. Lyra was probably waiting for me back at the room, but my mind was still inside that hall. I wondered what they were saying. I wondered if the tea was actually good enough to shut them up.

  ─── ??☆?? ───

  Inside the hall, the atmosphere was thick with a new kind of silence.

  Kaelen stared at the pale, amber liquid being poured into his cup, his nose wrinkling in suspicion. "Tea. You really summoned us here to drink leaf-water."

  Cordelia, however, didn't speak. She picked up her cup, bringing it to her nose. She closed her eyes, inhaling the steam deeply, her expression shifting from skepticism to genuine surprise. The aroma was complex, shifting from the sweetness of a mountain meadow to the deep, smoky richness of an ancient forest.

  Malphas sat with his arms crossed, his eyes fixed on his guests, waiting.

  Cordelia was the first to take a sip. Her eyes flew open, and for a moment, the playful, teasing Demon Lord was gone, replaced by someone truly stunned. She didn't just drink it; she experienced it. A second later, her cup was empty.

  "More," she demanded, sliding the cup toward Valerius. "I need more of this immediately."

  Kaelen watched her, his brow furrowing. He looked at his own cup, then at Cordelia’s frantic request. He took a cautious sip, his eyes narrowing. Then, his eyes widened. He didn't just sip; he gulped the entire thing down in one go, slamming the cup back onto the saucer.

  "Hmph," Kaelen grunted, though his voice lacked its previous bite. "Beer is still better. It has more... kick."

  Cordelia turned to him, her voice sharp with disbelief. "Bullshit, Kaelen. You know as well as I do that this is the best thing you've ever tasted. It makes your 'Golden Draught' taste like horse spit."

  She turned back to Malphas, her expression intense. "This is amazing, Malphas. Truly. It’s balanced, it’s vibrant... it has a soul. I didn't think your gloomy domain was capable of such life."

  Malphas sat there, the smirk on his face growing into a full, triumphant grin. He had won the round.

  Kaelen, feeling the loss, reached for his tankard of root beer and took a large, defiant sip. His face immediately contorted, his lips curling back in a grimace of pure shock. He spat a small amount back into the cup, his expression one of pure disgust as he stared at the liquid as if it had turned into poison.

  "What the—? This tastes like old boots and rusted iron!" Kaelen growled, his voice echoing through the hall.

  The butler standing next to him leaned in, whispering softly into his ear, "My Lord, the tea you just consumed is exceptionally high in tannins and polyphenols, which has caused a sensory conflict on your palate. The tea's astringency has bound to your saliva, creating a drying effect that strips away the sweet and malty notes of your drink. Because your mouth was heated by the hot tea, this cold beer now tastes 'skunked' and metallic, leaving only a compounded, rough bitterness that reveals the beverage's lower quality."

  Kaelen pretended that he understood what the butler just said. He shoved the tankard away, looking as if he wanted to flip the table.

  Cordelia, meanwhile, was leaning forward, her eyes bright with a different kind of hunger. "Malphas, I need the recipe. I'll trade you three of my best vineyards for it. No, four."

  Malphas ignored the offer, his eyes closing as he savored his own cup.

  "Then tell me," Cordelia pressed, her gaze darting toward the closed doors. "Who created this? Who brewed it? This isn't the work of a normal servant."

  Malphas opened his eyes, his crimson gaze meeting hers. "It was the maid who was just in the room. The one you were so busy 'teasing' earlier."

  Cordelia paused, her mind clearly replaying the moment Akari had walked in. "The little one? With the dark hair?" She let out a soft, appreciative whistle. "I knew she had potential as a beautiful, stunning maid, but this... this is amazing. She’s a treasure, Malphas. A waste in a place like this."

  Malphas didn't respond to the jab. He set his cup down, the sound sharp in the quiet room. His expression shifted, the pride and the smirks vanishing, replaced by a cold, clinical focus.

  "Okay then," he said, his voice dropping into a tone that commanded total attention. "Enough small talk. Let’s talk about the real reason I summoned you all here. Let’s talk about the man in the white mask."