As bad as it is to listen to a demon's advice...

You try to think of anyone you would trust with a secret like this and every possibility is struck from the list. Your mother might disown you or lock you up in a tower, most anyone close to you would probably tell the queen, anyone from the church might whisk you off to a convent or an abbey and virtually anyone else would **** you.

With a sigh and a guilty feeling in the pit of your stomach you head down to the dining hall for the remembrance dinner, arriving late - though not enough to warrant a comment from your mother or your tutor. Your mother makes a long and thoughtful speech about your dead betrothed. You try to follow it with a shorter speech that you practiced in advance, but with all that's going on you screw up your lines and get nervous. Improvising doesn't help very much, but at least it looks like people think you're distraught over losing him.

To your surprise some servants start bringing out wine casks. Illennia is famous for its wines and apparently Duchess Evelyn sent word that this was what Count Lucas would have wanted. He always took pride in his county's vintages, so in dining halls across the nation casks are being tapped and wine is flowing freely so that all can remember him. It's hardly what you'd expect, not at all in line with the Duchess' reputation, but you're not going to complain at being handed a tall glass of fine rose wine on a night like tonight.

At first you're thankful that your unwanted companion is so quiet. After talking with dozens of guests and thanking them for their condolences you get a breather and check on what he's doing. Far from the arrogance and confidence he displayed before the little monster is sitting cross legged on your shoulder and looking morose. There's a miniature wine glass in his hand and he seems to be sampling from it rather freely.

The party is loud enough by now that you feel it's safe to say something. "What, drowning your sorrows now that you've been found out?"

"Yeah, why not?" he says, swishing the wine around and draining the glass. "It's been one piece of bad luck after another with you. First you wind up with that goody goody of a friend, then a tutor who actually punishes you when you're bad. You figure out Sir Arrick is your brother, the Count is dead and now you know about me. How much worse could thing get?"

"Wait, you didn't have the Count killed?"

He pulls another wine glass from somewhere and starts drinking that too. "Of course not! He would have been great. Had a eye for the ladies, just like your Dad. You two hardly knew each other - that's handy for all kinds of strife. Plus I expect being a Count he never really had to please women in bed, so you'd be knocked up and unsatisfied. Then a crying little heir to take care of and I start helping you notice some 'eligible gentlemen' who might know a thing or two about lovemaking."

You roll your eyes and go back to meeting and greeting. Dozens more condolences for a man that you barely knew. Vis is right about that part. Then something he said sticks in your mind and you manage to get away from people for a second. The demon looks properly drunk now. "Hey, what do you mean 'and I figured out Sir Arrick is my...'" You daren't say the truth out loud. Not anywhere that someone could hear it.

"Mmmm, yeah. Well can you imagine how that woulda worked out? You cheatin on your betrothal with your own flesh n' blood. Your parents would ave had three kinds of fit - and that's assuming you were careful n' didn't end pregnant."

You gasp at the casual way this drunken demon talks about getting you to commit vile **** with your own half brother. What a horrible beast Vis is. And he's been living on your shoulder rent free since you were born.

"But isss all over now," he says, bleary eyes looking up at you. "I mean, I'm fucked. If I'd let you exocorsm... excosis... ex-or-cis-mmm - yeah - at least I go back now. Can 'splain it, blame the fucken mirrr. But no, 'don't tell 'em' I says. Stuck here till you finally buy it. No way you're gonna do anythin' I say. Time I go back to hell they'll have all the toys out. Great opportunity, princess, ruin a kingdom, all that. She winds up some saintly queen, loved, nice. I get the tongs n' saws on the tongue n' balls to start."

You actually have to grin at that. Keep the little bastard around and live to a ripe old age and he gets it in the neck. Seems a fitting enough payment for a creature like him. Yes, you get a nice warm feeling that runs all through you at the though and spend the rest of the party in a much better mood. He spends it quite indecorously, passed out and snoring atop your shoulder.

Hours later you can finally go back to your rooms. Your feet ache and your head feels soft. That wine was a bit stronger than the vintages you're used to. Still, you're thanking the Duchess for that wine - a hundred condolences stone sober would have been agony.

Your chambermaid, Lady Farinna, is waiting in your room to help you out of your dress. When you walk in she's checking herself out in your new mirror. In fact, with both mirrors, as she's angled your smaller mirror to give herself a view of her bottom. Farinna does know a lot about fashion and she does worry about the size of her ass. Almost as much as she takes pride in the slenderness of her waist.

You don't know what you'd do without her, she really is dedicated. She's the sole chambermaid who stuck with you after your teen temper tantrums. At this point she can more or less do or say what she likes around you and often teases that without her you'd probably be stuck wearing no more than a slip if someone didn't take pity on you.

She welcomes you back with a hug, which is as inappropriate as it is normal for her. She makes only light conversation about the mirror and how the party went as she quickly frees you of your dress, then leaves you for the night. Considering the wine you fall fast asleep as soon as your head touches the pillow.