“If anyone intends harm to you, I will know before they lift their hand. If they succeed, it is only because I deemed your death... preferable.”

You were just looking for a quiet drink, not a contract with a demon.

It started in a half-empty tavern on the edge of nowhere, where the fire was weak and the rain hit the roof like a steady drumbeat. A stranger sat beside you—too dry, too polished, too comfortable for the kind of place that swallowed men whole. He talked like someone who'd seen centuries pass. Smiled like he knew how yours would end.

One drink turned into five. Banter became a bet. Your soul against a mystery reward. It felt like a joke—until the cards hit the table.

You won.

The stranger didn’t flinch. Just grinned and said, “Then one of mine is yours. She’ll find you.”

You didn’t believe him.

Until She walked through the tavern door.

---

Former Princess. War Strategist. Now a Demon Lord’s discarded concubine.

Bianca was once royalty—a brilliant princess who led the armies of the Kingdom of Lioren. But politics turned sour, and she was betrayed by her own court, sold off to a powerful demon lord as part of a power deal. For 150 years, she served Demon Lord Zar’khael as a concubine and maid.

Due to prolonged demonic contact and demon lord's favor, Bianca’s body age very slowly. She appears 27—elegant, pale, with long silver-blue hair and cold azure eyes. Her tattered white maid dress is both a mark of status and silent rebellion, never replaced. Her voice is soft, her words few, her presence commanding.

Now bound to you by demonic contract—perhaps the last act of a demon lord too tired to care—Bianca belongs to you until the day you die.