The first night of my marriage began with an argument over a sofa.
“You should take the bed.”
“No.”
“The bed is large enough for both of us.”
“No.”
I stared at Ravenna.
She stared back.
Neither of us moved.
The enormous bed stood between us like a silent witness.
I had never imagined that my first argument with my new wife would be about furniture.
“You are the Demon Queen,” I said.
“Yes.”
“You own this entire castle.”
“Yes.”
“You probably own several hundred beds.”
“Probably.”
“And yet you're sleeping on the sofa.”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
Ravenna looked at me as though the answer should have been obvious.
“Because I don't want to make you uncomfortable.”
I blinked.
That was not the answer I had expected.
“You're worried about making me uncomfortable?”
“Yes.”
“But you're the one who lives here.”
“That doesn't matter.”
She walked toward the sofa and picked up a blanket.
“This is your first night in the Demon Kingdom. You have already left your home, married someone you barely know, and moved into a castle full of demons.”
She paused.
“I don't want to make things worse.”
For a moment, I didn't know what to say.
Then I smiled.
“Ravenna.”
She looked at me.
“You're very strange.”
Her expression became slightly displeased.
“I have been told that already.”
“But I don't mean it badly.”
“I know.”
She sat down on the sofa.
The blanket covered her knees.
I looked at her.
Then at the bed.
Then back at her.
“All right.”
She nodded.
“Good.”
“I'll sleep on the bed.”
“Of course.”
“But you will not sleep on that sofa.”
Her crimson eyes widened.
“What?”
“The sofa is too small.”
“I'll be fine.”
“You're the Demon Queen.”
“Yes.”
“Then act like it.”
She stared at me.
I pointed at the bed.
“There's enough room.”
She looked at the bed.
Then at me.
“You're certain?”
“Yes.”
“You won't regret it?”
“I might.”
Her eyebrows lifted.
I smiled.
“But I suppose I'll take that risk.”
For several seconds, Ravenna remained silent.
Then she stood.
“All right.”
She walked toward the bed.
There was still an enormous amount of space between us.
Almost absurdly so.
We lay down on opposite sides.
Our backs faced each other.
The room became quiet.
The fire crackled softly.
Outside the balcony, the wind moved through the Black Rose Garden.
I closed my eyes.
This was strange.
Very strange.
I had been married less than an hour.
My wife was lying a few feet away.
And I knew almost nothing about her.
I knew her title.
I knew her name.
I knew that she was feared by the human kingdom.
I knew that she had offered me a Black Rose.
But I didn't know what she liked.
What she hated.
What made her laugh.
What she dreamed about.
I turned onto my back.
“Ravenna?”
“Yes?”
Her voice came immediately.
“You're still awake.”
“So are you.”
“That doesn't answer my question.”
“I know.”
I smiled.
“You're difficult.”
“So are you.”
“That's fair.”
Silence returned.
Then I asked,
“What do you like?”
There was a pause.
“What?”
“What do you like?”
“I don't understand.”
“Food. Flowers. Books. Music. Anything.”
Another pause.
“I like tea.”
“That's all?”
“I like tea very much.”
I laughed quietly.
“What kind?”
“Black tea.”
“Of course.”
“Why do you say it like that?”
“I don't know.”
She was quiet.
Then she asked,
“What about you?”
“I like white roses.”
“I know.”
“You remember?”
“You were holding one when you arrived.”
I turned my head toward her.
Her back was still facing me.
“You notice everything, don't you?”
“No.”
“You do.”
“I notice things that concern me.”
“Do I concern you?”
Ravenna didn't answer immediately.
Then she said,
“Yes.”
I wasn't sure whether that was a good thing.
Before I could ask, she added,
“You are my wife.”
My heart gave another inconvenient little beat.
I closed my eyes.
“Right.”
Wife.
The word felt unfamiliar.
Too heavy.
Too intimate.
Yet strangely warm.
I wondered if Ravenna felt the same.
Neither of us spoke again.
Eventually, sleep came.
I woke to the sound of something falling.
Bang!
I sat upright.
“What happened?”
Ravenna was already standing.
Her sword was in her hand.
Her hair was disheveled.
She looked completely different from the elegant queen I had met earlier.
“Stay behind me.”
“What?”
“Stay behind me.”
There was another noise.
Scrape.
Then a small voice.
“I'm sorry!”
Ravenna froze.
I blinked.
A tiny dragon crawled out from behind the curtains.
It was no larger than a cat.
Its scales were dark blue.
Two tiny horns curved from its head.
It looked terrified.
The dragon stared at Ravenna.
Then at me.
Then it sneezed.
A tiny flame burst from its nose.
I covered my mouth.
Ravenna slowly lowered her sword.
“What are you doing here?”
The dragon chirped.
“I don't think it can answer you,” I whispered.
Ravenna gave me a look.
“I know.”
The dragon shuffled toward me.
I crouched down.
“Hello.”
It stopped.
Its little tail moved.
“Are you lost?”
The dragon chirped again.
I held out my hand.
It sniffed my fingers.
Then it climbed into my arms.
I stared at it.
“Oh.”
Ravenna stared too.
“That is strange.”
“Why?”
“It doesn't trust strangers.”
“Perhaps it likes me.”
The dragon curled against my chest.
Ravenna looked at it.
Then at me.
Then back at the dragon.
“You've been here for less than a day.”
“I know.”
“And it already likes you.”
“I suppose.”
Ravenna's expression became complicated.
“I'm not sure whether I should be jealous.”
I laughed.
“You're jealous of a dragon?”
“No.”
“You definitely are.”
“I am not.”
The dragon chirped happily.
Ravenna looked away.
“Breakfast will be ready soon.”
“Are you changing the subject?”
“Yes.”
I smiled.
“All right.”
The dining hall was nothing like I expected.
I had imagined something dark and intimidating.
Instead, sunlight poured through tall windows.
Long wooden tables filled the room.
There were flowers everywhere.
And the smell of freshly baked bread filled the air.
The moment I entered, everyone became silent.
I stopped.
Ravenna continued walking.
“Don't mind them.”
“Why are they staring?”
“They're curious.”
“I noticed.”
A maid approached us.
She was the same woman from the hallway yesterday.
“Good morning, Your Majesty. Your Holiness.”
“Good morning,” I said.
Ravenna nodded.
The maid looked at the tiny dragon in my arms.
Her eyes widened.
“Oh.”
Ravenna sighed.
“Please don't.”
The maid immediately covered her mouth.
“I'm not saying anything.”
“You don't need to.”
The maid's shoulders shook.
I tried not to laugh.
The dragon yawned.
Then it tucked its head beneath my chin.
The maid looked like she might explode from excitement.
Ravenna noticed.
“Please serve breakfast.”
“Yes, Your Majesty.”
She hurried away.
I looked at Ravenna.
“You really are popular with your servants.”
Ravenna nearly choked on her tea.
“What?”
“They tease you.”
“They are fearless.”
“Is that a bad thing?”
“No.”
Her expression softened.
“I would rather have servants who are willing to speak freely than servants who are afraid of me.”
I looked at her.
There it was again.
That small glimpse of the person beneath the crown.
The Demon Queen wasn't frightening because she enjoyed frightening people.
She was frightening because everyone knew she was powerful.
But the people around her weren't afraid of her.
They trusted her.
That was different.
Breakfast arrived.
Fresh bread.
Eggs.
Fruit.
Honey.
A bowl of warm soup.
And tea.
Ravenna immediately reached for the tea.
I watched her take the first sip.
Her shoulders relaxed.
I smiled.
“You really like tea.”
“Yes.”
“You look happier.”
“I am.”
That answer came so naturally that I laughed.
She looked at me.
“What?”
“Nothing.”
I picked up a piece of bread.
Then I noticed something.
The bread had a tiny black rose carved into the top.
I looked at Ravenna.
“Did you do this?”
She looked at the bread.
“No.”
The maid standing nearby immediately answered.
“The baker did.”
“Why?”
The maid smiled.
“Because today is the first morning of the royal couple's marriage.”
Ravenna went completely still.
The maid bowed.
“Please enjoy.”
Then she left.
I looked at the bread.
Then at Ravenna.
Her ears were red again.
“You're blushing.”
“I am not.”
“You are.”
“The room is warm.”
“It is.”
“Very warm.”
I smiled.
“Yes.”
Neither of us mentioned it again.
After breakfast, Ravenna showed me the castle.
I expected something enormous and intimidating.
It was enormous.
It was also surprisingly ordinary.
There was a library.
A music room.
A greenhouse.
A kitchen larger than the dining hall.
A courtyard filled with herbs.
A small workshop where several demons were repairing toys.
A nursery for young dragons.
And, to my surprise, a sewing room.
“You have a sewing room?”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“Our people need clothes.”
“I know that.”
“Then why are you surprised?”
“Because I imagined demons didn't sew.”
Ravenna stopped walking.
She looked at me.
“Did humans tell you that demons don't sew?”
“Not exactly.”
“What did they tell you?”
I hesitated.
“That demons eat human children.”
Ravenna stared at me.
I stared back.
Then she sighed.
“I see.”
She continued walking.
“Do I look like someone who eats children?”
“No.”
“Good.”
“You look like someone who drinks tea and sleeps on sofas.”
She stopped again.
I smiled.
For a moment, I thought she might be offended.
Instead, she laughed.
It was quiet.
Soft.
Almost unfamiliar.
But it was a real laugh.
I froze.
Ravenna seemed to realize what she had done.
Her expression immediately returned to normal.
“You didn't hear that.”
“I definitely heard it.”
“No.”
“You laughed.”
“I did not.”
“You did.”
“I was clearing my throat.”
I stared at her.
“While smiling?”
She looked away.
I laughed.
And this time, she didn't deny it.
We eventually reached the garden.
It was enormous.
Black Roses covered the outer walls.
Their petals moved gently in the wind.
At the center stood a large stone fountain.
The water was clear.
Almost silver.
I walked slowly between the flowers.
“They're beautiful.”
Ravenna followed behind me.
“You like them?”
“Yes.”
“I thought you preferred White Roses.”
“I do.”
She looked at the black flowers.
“Then you don't hate these?”
“No.”
I reached toward one.
The petals were softer than they looked.
“They're beautiful in their own way.”
Ravenna was silent.
I looked back at her.
“What?”
“Nothing.”
“You're doing that again.”
“Doing what?”
“Looking at me as though you're trying to remember something.”
Her expression changed.
For a moment, the warmth disappeared.
Something older took its place.
Something sad.
“I've seen a White Rose here before.”
I looked around.
“Here?”
“Yes.”
“Where?”
Ravenna walked toward the center of the garden.
She stopped beside an old stone pedestal.
There was a faded carving on it.
Two roses.
One black.
One white.
Growing from the same stem.
I stared.
“That isn't possible.”
“I know.”
“White Roses don't grow in the Demon Kingdom.”
“They used to.”
I looked at her.
“When?”
Ravenna touched the carving.
“A very long time ago.”
“How long?”
“Before the war.”
I stared at the two roses.
“Humans and demons weren't always enemies?”
Ravenna shook her head.
“No.”
Her voice was quiet.
“Once, we were allies.”
The wind moved through the garden.
One black petal fell between us.
And for the first time, I wondered if the war between our kingdoms had begun with a lie.
Neither of us knew it yet.
But beneath the castle, beneath the roses, and beneath a hundred years of hatred, something had been waiting.
Something that remembered the time when Black and White had grown together.
And now that the two roses had finally returned to the same castle, it had begun to wake.