Mr. Bushé is nowhere to be found. I’ve checked everywhere. Mother might as well delay the coronation and blame him for it.
“King Damian?”
“Mr. Bushé? I’m not king yet. I prefer it if you still call me Prince Damian.”:
“Right, sorry Prince Damian. Has your mother called you yet?” I can’t help but wonder how mother would call me.
“No, sir.”
“Good, now drink this.” He holds out a potion that leaks with steam, boiling hot, steam.
“It’s too hot.”
“Just try, you’ll be burnt a little before the effects kick in. Sadly, there’s no solution for that.”
“Right, okay…” He lowers the cup to my level and I instantly feel a whack on steam come my way. I have a feeling this is going to be a horrible idea.
“It would be better if you drank it now sir. It won’t cool off because that’s a magical potion. Sorry for the inconvenience.”
“No, no… Sorry, Mr. Bushé.” I pull up the hot mug up to my face. I can tell this is going to be a horrendous idea. I, reluctantly slip my hands around the scolding hot mug. Then I lower my mouth and start sipping the mixture. I was right… it burns.
I keep drinking the solution. For if I stop, I have no idea what mother would say. But after a few more seconds something unusual happens. It’s such an unusual sensation…. because I don’t feel anything.
How could that be? I don’t even feel the blood dripping on my face. Which in fact, I could be misinterpreting because now it’s so usual that I don’t even care. I guess it’s like the monocle that Mr. Bushé wears….But I’m sure I got rid of it. It’s not there…
“That’ll be lasting for around five hours.” Of course, humans though keeping our system of time would be simple.
“A-am I a normal demon?”
“Damian? You always were. Maybe you are a little more normal but don’t say that. You always were; from the very beginning.”
“T-thanks Mr. Bushé.” Everyone knows that’s not true… Just ask mother.
ns 15.158.61.20da2
