Hell's Consort

Newest Chapter of Highest Tier (January 2022)

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Archdemon Empress Luna

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Apollyon's lips pressed into a mulish line as he contemplated in his seat with silence.

What got him in this awful mood?

He should be wearing a satisfied smile right now after what she had done to him earlier.

From his grim countenance, it felt like the reward she had given him didn't help it.

Did she make the situation worse?

Honestly, she wasn't used to this type of cold treatment.

Now that they had returned from their talk at the balcony, she thought that everything was already fine.

Was it just her imagination or as the time the childbirth goes near, their close intimacy had grown farther and farther apart?

Should she ask him about what he thought instead of probing his mind without permission?

Would her husband get angry or did he does this on purpose to evince curiosity in him?

Eyebrows are drawn together, Luna's gaze flitted around the Great Hall to find anything that he might possibly be frustrated about.

Anxious, her hands fisted on the table napkin in front of her.

She wouldn't do that anymore.

Apollyon hadn't done that either even if he had told her many times that he was curious of her internal musings.

In addition to that, she had made efforts to answer every one of them.

No more secrets.

Luna learned to respect their relationship and Apollyon had instilled that in her mind.

Mercilessly.

Both of them had promised to honour the privacy of their thoughts which improved their verbal communication… or not.

Why did Apollyon stop asking altogether, oh-so-suddenly?

His large hand cupped the stem of his goblet, fiddling with it.

Why was it hard for her husband to look her in the eye and address the tension in the atmosphere that made her squirm in her chair?

It seemed like the progress she had witnessed before had regressed.

Now, they were square to one.

Not only that.

Wasn't he interested in her any longer?

Something was wrong.

Hiding her furrowed brows from her irate husband's view, Luna bit her bottom lip and glanced down at her large womb while she let her short silver hair cover the side of her face.

No.

It must be her appearance.

Her protruding stomach made it seem like Apollyon had married a whale despite insisting that he didn't care at all.

Men were very particular about that.

He must have lied so that he wouldn't hurt her feelings.

Still, it hurt.

She was forced to walk with her chin upon the Great Hall as if she was an abducted arctic penguin forced to parade herself in front of the woodland creatures.

If not for her pregnancy and her husband's broad build,  the guests in the Hazelnut Manor might have wondered which of them was the female.

Their manes—silver and black—were almost of the same length after Apollyon, which to her chagrin, persuaded her to cut her hair so that they wouldn't get in the way of wrapping a scarf around her neck to keep her warm.

For someone else, it will seem like her husband was, indeed, making mountains out of a molehill.

But delirious Luna, who was plagued with an incurable fever—a growing hellfire trapped in her chest that she desired to claw out and get rid of it--could see the conflicted storm in his Prussian Blue eyes before he convinced her to cut her hair at their bed chamber so she agreed to let him do it.

Apollyon admitted that he loved her long silver mane as it was no secret that it caught his fancy the first time he had seen it at the Blood Moon Banquet.

Not many male Fae in the Autumn Courts had kept their hair longer than their broad shoulders.

The female Faeries were the opposite.

As if the law required their thick, healthy mane to drop past their hips.

The inky tendrils curled like whispers of silk on Apollyon's nape that Luna desired to brush her fingers with as much as she would like to press her lips on his mouth if she had the privacy to do so.

His vampire husband's ivory skin sparkled and stood out even more from the black-and-white ensemble he had donned in the Wine Tasting Party.

Unfortunately, Luna couldn't say the same for herself.

Luna's complexion was tinged with a grey-ish pallor and the beautiful white gown she wore wouldn't let her ignore the fact that she was still a sick woman whose days were numbered.

The peers can easily notice little things like that.

She recalled that some sensitive Faeries in her vicinity had given her alarming glances which quickly shifted into something pitiful.

Their hushed voices in the background while they whispered among themselves sounded like whining mosquitoes in her ears.

She heard them mention her name multiple times.

If not for her husband's presence, these ladies would walk towards her direction and ask questions about her condition, pretending to be concerned.

Perhaps, some of these guests considered that she already died and she was simply there in the Great Hall of Hazelnut Manor as a Household ghost because she couldn't let go of her mate.

She dismissed the thought.

Luna wasn't about to wallow in sadness while she stewed on this self-fulfilling prophecy of hers.

If Apollyon had spied on her thoughts for a second,  her beloved would give her a severe tongue lashing… and it wasn't the good kind.

Well, there was no harm in asking him about this, right?

Frowning, she realized her husband's behaviour was more unbearable at this moment.

Why was Apollyon the mercurial one when she should be in that mood due to the pregnancy?

The birth attendants assigned to her with Apollyon's permission said so.

Lifting her hand, she settled it on Apollyon and squeezed, "Apollyon. Do you have something you have to tell me?" Her husband flinched before he glanced down at the small hand that gripped his. "Are  you still angry at me?"

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