Chapter 862: Chapter 863: I Can Explain When she had been young, Renata was forced to be more mature than her age would suggest. Her family was always on high alert. Damon frowned as he looked at her. If he allowed himself to miss important details just because a seductive woman was sitting on his body, then he would be a fool. At first glance, the setup looked sexualized on purpose, and that was correct, but not for titillation. Renata sitting on Damon’s thighs was not about desire. It was about control through vulnerability. She was not trying to sleep with him. She was testing something far more dangerous. ’Can I be close to you without being used?’ Her physical closeness contrasted sharply with her emotional restraint. She pressed her body against him while keeping her emotions at arm’s length, and that dissonance was exactly who she was. This line was the thesis of her existence, its single summary. "Everything you value is a handle someone else can grab." That was not cynicism. That was survival doctrine. Entirely different from his own. Renata was not cold because she lacked feeling. She was cold because she had been taught that feeling was a liability. And the most chilling part was that she did not seem to resent her parents for it. She understood them. Damon claimed to value nothing. Renata had actually tried to. And the cost showed. He had to admit he always sensed something was off about her, but he had never paid her too much attention. In his heart, he figured that if she ever acted against him, he could always bring her down with Demon Dominate. "I was raised to be efficient. I was taught we existed to serve Lord Ashcroft, and that he would bring our salvation." She sighed softly, her chest rising and falling as if she was carefully regulating her breath. "Nothing was mine, so I was not allowed to have anything in my name. Sometimes my parents intentionally bought me something, waited until I learned to treasure it, and then they took it away." Her lips curved into a faint, sad smile. Her violet eyes dulled, stripped of their usual confidence. "One day, I got a friend. She was a young human girl." Renata smiled at the memory. "She lived completely differently from me. She didn’t spend her whole day studying. Her expressions weren’t the result of hours of practice. She loved flowers and played in the mud like any mundane child." Renata envied her, but she also admired her. The girl who lived in her castle was merely the daughter of a maid. Her mother had died of illness, and her father had been killed by a passing nobleman. Renata was prudent. She researched her thoroughly. She knew more about the girl’s past than the girl herself. And so the girl was assigned to her service. Renata had never had a personal maid. She had many servants, but never one assigned solely to her. Even so, she kept the girl at arm’s length for months, refusing to get attached. But demons, despite how cruel they were portrayed in malignant tales, possessed abundant emotion. In Renata’s case, time itself became the catalyst for attachment. This was more than a maid. She was her friend. Her only one. "Mira, why are you always so happy even when you’ve lost so much?" The young maid smiled brightly. "I can’t be sad forever. A smile is worth a million words. You should smile too. You’d look really pretty. Prettier than any girl I know." Renata chuckled. It was genuine. Real. She did not value many things, but she loved Mira. Truly. The next morning, Mira did not come. Renata left her room to find her. The halls carried a faint stench, metallic and thick. Blood. When she turned the corner, her face drained of color. The image burned itself permanently into her mind. Mira’s corpse was impaled, her eyes frozen wide in terror. Blood soaked her hair, staining it a violent red. Soft footsteps echoed behind Renata. "Why," she muttered. Her father sighed. She could hear the pain in his voice. "Are you in pain, Renata. If you are, it is because you valued something. A handle that was used to hurt you." She collapsed to her knees as agony crushed her chest. This pain. This pain she wanted gone. She would never do it again. Never value anything again. Why did they have to kill Mira? It was her fault. In her rage, she retaliated against her parents. She wanted to take something from them, but she did not know what they valued. Her will awakened, and with it, the potential of her attribute. Zero. Her magic attribute possessed the power to reduce things to nothing. But she failed. They were stronger. No harm came to them. They were her parents, after all. Damon glanced at her, his expression tightening. That was a horrific thing to endure. "I just want to prove them wrong," she muttered. "What happened to them? Your parents." Renata exhaled and leaned her head against his shoulder, the contact gentle but deliberate. "They received an imperial summons to face the demon army. They perished in the war, leaving me to inherit the house. Since I was the only one left, I decided to do my own thing." Damon placed a hand on her waist, adjusting her weight slightly so she was more stable on his lap. "So you turned your house into a regional economic power." She nodded slowly. "I did, but it came with problems. A lot of people suddenly had their eyes on me. Some creeps even tried to marry me just to claim my territory." Damon sighed. "And what does that have to do with choosing me instead of Ashcroft." She tapped her chin thoughtfully. "Ashcroft isn’t even from my era. My ancestors followed him, and their teachings cost me a great deal. The unknown god believes in mortals making their own choices. I want the right to make mine." She smiled at him. This time it was genuine. Not seductive. Not calculated. "I am Renata Malcrist. A demon." Damon smiled faintly, touching the side of his head where his horns had once been filed down. "Damon Grey. Still human. For now. But I’d appreciate it if you could teach me how to hide my demon parts." She glanced at him, then chuckled, leaning closer until their noses nearly touched. "And what’s in it for me. You’ll have to do some very personal favors, cutie." "What the hell is going on here?" The voice sounded like it crawled straight out of hell. Damon’s hands shot off Renata’s waist. This was worse than if Evangeline had caught him in this position. He lifted his head toward the balcony entrance. His throat tightened when he saw them. Sylvia, already radiating murderous intent. And Lilith Astranova, staring at him with deadpan disgust. "It’s not what it looks like. I can explain."