The new carriage is much different than the one that came to pick her up from the cathedral. It’s a sleeker, more angular design built for speed as well as defense considering the spikes covering the wheels. The horses, too, are slimmer and sharper in bone structure.

Oddly enough, there doesn’t appear to be a seat for a driver, and the horse’s reins are tacked directly to the coach.

“Good luck, Saintess,” Prince Elliot says, helping her into the carriage, “and may the Goddess be with you.” He glares past her at the duke, who’s already sitting inside. “You may need Her,” he mutters darkly.

As soon as the door to the coach shuts, the horses take off without a driver to guide them. She’s terrified until Duke Wulf explains that magicians control the horses through crystals on their harnesses. A driverless carriage is a safety measure of royalty when heading into dangerous territory.

“How rude,” Duke Wulf rubs his chin. “I am offended yet intrigued by the speed we are being sent to this town.”

“I’m offended in general,” she says, gripping her parasol tightly and trying not to cry bitter tears. “I don’t know anything about slaying demons.”

“It’s not hard. You take a sword, and you go,” Duke Wulf makes a swishing sound with his mouth while making a cutting motion. It’s so childish; she can’t hold back an unattractive snort.

“I don’t know if you’ve seen my frail, little arms or the wedding dress they put me in, but that is definitely not happening,” she says, voice drier than a desert that has never seen rain.

This body can barely stand for an hour. Holding a sword, let alone wielding one, is flat out impossible.

“As long as you don’t get in my way,” the duke’s expression turns frightening and for a moment she can’t breathe. Once the intensity of it fades, she sucks in air. “You can take the credit for eradicating demons to keep your followers happy,” he says mildly.

“What?”

She’s trying to calm her beating heart and is unable to understand what the duke means. Duke Wulf scoffs as if she’s playing dumb on purpose.

“We both know what you are, ‘Saintess,’” he says mockingly. “If there is a goddess, her believers wouldn’t be dying like cattle for a starving nation.”

He’s calling her a fake. She stares at her hands. He’s not wrong in the slightest.

“I don’t believe in praying to a god that isn’t real. I would rather rely on myself to solve the current crisis.”

She has no doubt that the duke is looking at her with those fierce, judging eyes, and she can’t bear to meet them. She can look nowhere else but down as the carriage is windowless.

“Why let the church continue this farce?” she asks lowly. “What’s in it for you?”

“Absolutely nothing,” he says, cheerful tone at odds with the cold stare boring into her.

“You are a frustrating man.”

“And you are even weaker than I was led to believe.”

They fall into silence after that.

Nothing the duke said is wrong, but she can’t help but feel like a victim anyway. She didn’t choose this body or the title of saintess. If the church comes for her, it’s not like she has the power of a dukedom to fall back on.

She is but a puppet, dancing on strings to a tune she can’t hear. If she wants to cut herself free, she needs power. Knowledge is the first step in gaining it, and as of this moment, the duke is the only person who can provide that.

“What exactly are demons?” She raises her head, and Duke Wulf closes his eyes, face twisting into a grimace.

“They are the darkest creatures you will ever meet.” His voice fades as if remembering something unpleasant. “Some look human, some do not. Most enjoy the taste of human flesh and blood. All wield magic that is difficult to guard against.”

Duke Wulf opens his eyes, and they practically glow as they meet hers.

“When you see them, you will learn what fear is.” Her heart beats wildly as he grins in a way she’s never seen before. “But worry not, I will protect you. It will be a fun new challenge.”

She feels like a deer caught in headlights, or a paralyzed mouse watching the snake come closer. He licks his lips.

“I taste them. They are here.”

There’s a loud bang, and the world turns sideways. She screams as her body is thrown from one side of the carriage to the other. Her head hits the ceiling, but her headband protects her. The sound of screeching metal is deafening.

The lone lamp in the carriage, a glass marble that hung from the ceiling, hits her headband and shatters. Everything falls into darkness.

The carriage eventually comes to a crashing stop, and she can only lie there in a daze as a heavy chest rushes straight towards her from an overhead shelf. An armored hand grabs the heavy chest and tosses it to the side of the carriage, which has become the floor.

“Any injuries?” That same armored hand pats her down gently. Those wild yellow eyes are now glowing so bright they light up the entire carriage.

“None,” the duke says with satisfaction. Her aching body would like to disagree, but her throat is glued shut.

Duke Wulf places his palm against the ceiling of the carriage, and the darkness of the coach is lit up by red fire. Flames flicker between his fingers, and she can only stare as the metal roof burns away like paper beneath his hand. The flames don’t stop until there is a hole big enough for him to step through.

With the rumors of a pact with the demon king, she figured he knew magic, but watching him destroy metal without much effort…

He truly is as terrifying as people say.

“Stay here and watch. I will give you a show,” the duke tells her with a grin.