"A century with you as my betrothed, that is all I ask. You wish to save your mother from an incurable disease, do you not?"

Keeping you for merely a century was a lie. After the God of Death Rhynis had blessed Ranakat's promised union with you, he's been planning to tie you to him for eternity.

While he did feel some guilt for using your mother of all people as a stepping stone to ensure his marriage, it was all necessary to garner your willingness. Of course, having a Demon King for a husband was nothing short but intimidating. The worse of it all was that you've only met him recently.

Approximately a day and a half, to be exact.

If not for the perished soul who went by the name Ishtar, you wouldn't be where you were now. You would've never met Ranakat.

Your unfortunate mother was dying from a disease that seemed to consume her inside out. There was no cure. At least, not one a simple doctor can procure. Desperate to save her, you embarked on a perilous journey to the Kraszka, the entrance to Azamotos to look for the flower of healing. A divine resource that holds no name, but was famous through tales amongst your people.

"Time is ticking, my love."

You're not sure what you'd done for Ranakat to sport such a fond gaze. It reminds you of the kind look Ishtar often gave you whenever he accompanied you to the everlasting fields. It's a silly thought. Because, how could you ever compare a Demon King to someone he'd view as nothing but a speck of dust?