Attempt number thirty-two.
I was running for my life.
“NELLIE!”
More specifically, I was running for my life while Morgause, the Demon Queen, chased me through the halls of her own castle.
A fireball shot past my head.
“Wait! I can explain!”
“You broke into my room while I was sleeping!”
“That sounds way worse when you say it like that!”
“You were standing next to my bed!”
“I just wanted to talk to you!”
“YOU WERE SMILING!”
I opened my mouth, but couldn't come up with a convincing defense.
In my defense, Morgause looked dangerously adorable while she slept.
Her messy hair spread across the pillow, the sheets wrapped around her, and that peaceful expression she never let me see while awake had seriously tested my self-control.
A heroic amount of self-control, actually.
I probably shouldn't mention that part.
Another explosion shook the corridor.
I ran faster.
This was definitely not going according to plan. Though, to be fair, none of the previous thirty-one attempts had gone particularly well either.
I turned a corner.
Morgause appeared right in front of me.
I stopped so abruptly that my boots screeched against the floor.
“Wait, how did you do that?”
Morgause stared at me as if I'd just asked the dumbest question in the world.
“Did you really think you could lose me in my own halls?”
Good point.
I took a step back.
Morgause took one forward.
I kept retreating until my back hit the wall.
I was cornered and alone with Morgause as she slowly closed the distance between us.
Strangely enough, that didn't bother me nearly as much as it should have.
My gaze drifted downward on pure instinct.
Nellie.
Her eyes were up there.
I forced myself to look at her face again.
I lasted about half a second.
Damn it.
Morgause took another step, narrowing the space between us even further. I could feel the heat coming off her, though I wasn't entirely sure how much of it was Morgause and how much came from the flames still burning around her hands.
My survival instincts insisted I was about to die.
The rest of me had considerably less appropriate priorities.
I'd had dreams that started exactly like this.
Though those usually involved a lot less fire and a lot more physical contact.
Morgause raised one hand, and the flames above her palm grew brighter.
“This time, you're going to tell me exactly what you were trying to do.”
I swallowed.
This was my chance.
Probably my last one for today, but I could always try again tomorrow.
I clasped my hands in front of my chest, took a deep breath, and looked her straight in the eyes.
“Demon Queen Morgause. Please go out with me!”
The flames around her hand flickered.
For a moment, Morgause went completely still, and a faint blush colored her cheeks.
Oh.
So cute.
My imagination immediately supplied several other ways I might get her to make that same expression.
None of them particularly innocent.
“HOW MANY TIMES DO I HAVE TO TELL YOU NO?!” she snapped.
The fireball above her palm doubled in size.
Ah.
Well.
Worth it.
Attempt number thirty-two: still under negotiation.
The flames hit me head-on.
For a moment, there was nothing but heat.
Then nothing at all.
I opened my eyes with a sharp gasp.
“Ow...”
I was lying on a stone platform in the center of a circle of runes still glowing faintly beneath me. Tiny motes of light drifted upward from my body as it finished reconstructing itself.
I moved my hands, then my legs.
Everything was where it belonged.
Perfect.
Another successful respawn.
Dying in this world didn't necessarily mean staying dead. Respawn points were scattered throughout the land, and once you registered one, your body would return there after death.
Not an experience I'd recommend.
But extremely useful when the woman of your dreams had a habit of incinerating you.
The last rune faded, and I sat up to check my clothes.
Still intact.
Excellent service.
My dignity, unfortunately, didn't seem to be included.
Then again, I didn't remember bringing much of it with me when I decided to sneak into Morgause's room while she was asleep.
“Thirty-two...”
I sighed.
Another death and another rejection. In theory, that should have started discouraging me a long time ago.
Then I remembered her cheeks.
She had blushed.
A smile started creeping onto my face.
“Heh.”
I replayed the moment in my head: my confession, her silence, that tiny blush, and finally the fireball.
The last part could be ignored.
Morgause had blushed before trying to kill me.
That was what mattered.
Over the previous thirty-one attempts, she'd yelled at me, threatened me, frozen me, and thrown me out of windows. Once, she'd even listened to my entire confession before tossing me from a tower.
But she'd never blushed.
Until today.
I brought a hand to my chin.
“I'm making progress.”
Definitely.
Any other interpretation would be unnecessarily pessimistic.
Then I remembered how she'd looked beneath the sheets that morning and had to suppress another smile.
Maybe sneaking into her bedroom again wasn't the best idea.
At least not tomorrow.
The day after tomorrow, however...
No.
One thing at a time.
I stood up and dusted off my clothes.
That was enough for today. Even I knew when it was time to retreat.
Sometimes.
From where I stood, I could make out Morgause's castle in the distance.
Thirty-two rejections weren't going to stop me.
Today I'd gotten a blush. Tomorrow, maybe I'd get a smile, a conversation, or, with a particularly generous miracle, a date.
First, though, I had to get her to stop killing me.
I took a deep breath and dramatically pointed toward the castle.
“Enjoy your victory while you can, Morgause.”
I smiled.
“Tomorrow, you'll be mine.”
A gust of wind caught my cape and slapped it straight into my face.
I slowly pulled it away.
Good thing no one had seen that.
Attempt number thirty-three: tomorrow.