>>5628455You pry Irinnile away from you while she whines in protest.
“You will go nowhere,” you say sternly. “You are needed here.”
“Ooooh?” she asks, smiling slyly and licking her lips. “What kinda’ need?”
“I am not done with the Princess,” you clarify. “You are a useful asset.”
Irinnile pouts, but brightens somewhat when you step forward to embrace her. You only afford the demon a ‘kiss’, but it is enough to sate her for now, and to replenish her energy reserves. At least you certainly hope so—two nights of dream-delving and granting the demoness your mana have left you feeling tired even in spite of technically taking your torpor, while your adamant refusal of her repeated entreaties to partake in GREATER pleasure have left you restless in other ways. This arrangement, you realize, is not tenable in the long run… Yet still, you are reluctant to lose Irinnile as an ally, dubious though her intentions may be. She was your mother’s great love, after all, and is a useful enough fiend…
And leaving the Green Knight unsupervised? THAT is an anxiety-inducing notion, even bound to the lust-demon as he may be at present.
You decide to take your breakfast in the palace’s dining hall rather than in your chamber, an arrangement that the guards do not attempt to intercept as they once did. You suppose Rufos has removed your proverbial shackles somewhat, to see what you will do… Or perhaps he hopes that, with a loose enough leash, you will hang yourself. Regardless, you make the most of the opportunity to socialize with Irinnile in less prison-like confines.
“Thisss arrangement, you begin, setting down a fork with a half-eaten sausage impaled upon it, “it isss… unpleasant.”
“Well yeah,” Irinnile-as-Yosef remakrs, mouth still full of a mishmash of every available foodstuff, mushed together on the demon-knight’s plate and now shoved into Yosef’s ravening maw. “But SOMEONE said I gotta’ stick around, even though eh won’t even FUCK me or nothin’.”
You give Irinnile a meaningful glare, and they grin sheepishly and lower their voice. Luckily, it doesn’t seem the guards overheard the outburst—they’re strategically maintaining their distance, though they do hover near the door to keep an eye on your comings and goings from one are of the palace to the next.
“I meant in termsss of our imprisssonment,” you say, affecting a sympathetic tone. “I have alwayss preferred freedom, autonomy. Are you not the sssame?”
Irinnile blinks a couple times, then asks hesitatingly: “Like, ME-me, or HIM-me?”
“The true you,” you clarify.
Irinnile sets down their fork and stretches, considering their reply.
