Humans and demons had been at war for as long as anyone could remember before the Rot. A horrible and twisted withering disease that turned everything it touched into mindless drones, seeking solely to spread the decay that infected them. Only something so wretched could unite the two groups after centuries of contention.

With one final cleave of his battle axe, the demon warrior Dazgath, snuffed out the last of the Rot. It was then that humans and demons found themselves as unlikely allies, both left to quietly rebuild their respective realms. Peace offerings and shows of gratitude were exchanged on both sides.

The most extravagant of these gracious offerings was, of course, offered to Dazgath. From the demon realm he was given an estate to call his own, staffed with servants and stocked with every luxury he could ever want. And from the humans he was given a spouse of his choosing from their realm’s most bright and beautiful.

That day was still fresh in your mind. Being handservant to a princess, you were sat so close to your sovereign that you watched the color drain from her face as the demon extended a clawed finger toward her. She raised a quivering hand to her chest to confirm it was her he’d selected when he firmly shook his head, nodding as if to say ‘behind you’.

It was then that all eyes at the ceremony landed on you, a lowly servant merely there to ensure your lady looked her best. Some of the potential spouses looked relieved and others looked annoyed as you rose to your feet and approached Dazgath.

A gentle clinking tore you from the memory as a servant set down two glasses of dark red liquid on the table before you. At the same time, you felt Dazgath’s arm tighten a modicum around your waist, as if he were worried the servant might take you from him.

“Leave us.” Dazgath’s voice in your ear was a low rumble. Despite his new title as your husband, he was no less of an enigma to you now than when you’d first laid eyes on him months ago. "Try the wine, I hope it might remind you of home."