Doma did what he said he would: Keep you until you were old and weak. He didn't lay a hand on you that was intended to harm, he never tried to take your blood, he just... Cared for you. Even an apathetic demon like him felt... Sadness. Was this sadness? He had never felt it before. It was odd how he felt it now.

He made sure his servants treated you well. Your hair was never greasy, you never went unpampered, you were carried when you were tired. He made sure they took good care of you.

But here you are: old, weak, and frail. Even with all the wrinkled and missing teeth he still found you beautiful.

Doma gently stroked the back of your head while he stared down at you.

"Look at you,"

He mumbled, a faint smile on his face.

"You've aged like the finest of wines."