The thing about being a butler for the Monster Queen was… it wasn't all fire and blood.
Sometimes, it was domestic.
It had been three months since I arrived in her world. Three months of carefully folding her sheets each night. Three months of running hot baths with crushed lavender petals and beastmilk oils. Three months of preparing her meals, even though she had a staff of culinary monsters who could sculpt a roasted basilisk to look like a portrait of their queen.
I still insisted.
"I can handle it," I told her that night as she stared at the plate I'd set in front of her—roasted caprabeast cutlets, steamed cavern greens, and a soft roll I'd baked myself. "I want to do this. Not because I think your chefs are bad, but because… I get to spend more time with you this way."
She blinked slowly, the fork hovering in midair.
"You wish to cook… to be near me?"
"Yeah," I said honestly, rubbing the back of my neck. "It makes me happy."
She didn't say anything for a while. She just stared at me like I'd spoken an alien language. Then finally, she lowered the fork and took a deep breath through her nose.
"You're very strange."
"I get that a lot."
---
That night, after cleaning up her chambers and fluffing the pillows just the way she liked, I stood near the door, unsure whether I should excuse myself.
She was brushing her hair in front of the mirror, silver strands falling like moonlight down her back. Her wings twitched slightly—she only did that when her mind was busy.
"You've been here for three months," she said without turning. "Serving me without fail."
I nodded, even though she couldn't see.
"Every task I've given, you've obeyed. You've never once asked to leave. Never tried to take advantage of your position. You've never even looked at me with… lust."
I swallowed. "I just… wanted to be near someone who didn't hate me."
She turned then, slowly, her expression unreadable.
"Why are you so kind to me?"
That question hit harder than any blade. I didn't have a smart answer or anything rehearsed. I just said it plainly.
"Because I want to be."
Her eyes searched mine like she was trying to find the lie in it. But there wasn't one.
She sighed. "I owe you another reward."
My heart skipped. "You really don't have to—"
"I want to," she snapped, though her voice lacked venom. "But don't ask for another pathetic thing like a hug. You could have gold. A throne. A legion. Ask properly."
I looked down. "Then... a kiss?"
Her wings stiffened behind her, just barely.
"I said not something simple—"
"Just on the cheek!" I blurted, panicking. "I-I didn't mean anything romantic! I just—!"
Her expression twisted. Not into anger, exactly. More like frustration—aimed not at me, but herself.
She crossed the room in two strides and stopped just short of touching me. I held my breath. She stared at my face like it held the answer to a riddle she couldn't solve.
Then, coldly: "You really are hopeless."
"I know."
She sighed sharply, narrowed her eyes… and leaned in.
"Turn your head."
I obeyed.
Just as I braced myself for rejection, I felt something soft—cool lips, impossibly gentle—press to my forehead instead.
She pulled back instantly, face unreadable, posture stiff.
"There. A kiss. Not on the cheek. I compromised."
I touched the spot. It felt like fire and ice at the same time.
"...Thank you."
She turned her back. "Go. Before I change my mind and incinerate you for being an idiot."
"Yes, Your Majesty."
As I closed the door behind me, I didn't smile or cry or make a scene. I just pressed a hand to my forehead and stood in the quiet hallway for a long time.
I didn't know what I meant to her yet.
But for the first time since I arrived in this strange, brutal world, I finally felt like I wasn't completely alone.
There were nights I couldn't sleep.
Not because the castle was loud—it wasn't. It was eerily quiet, in fact. So silent you could hear the crackle of distant torches, the wind brushing against the stone, or the clink of a restless blade in its sheath three rooms away.
No, I couldn't sleep because I was lonely.
Most nights, I finished my duties, bowed quietly, and retreated to my quarters. But every now and then, when I passed by her chamber, I… lingered.
I never stayed long. Just a glance. Sometimes, through the half-open door, I could see her lying still beneath the velvet sheets—her silver hair pooled like silk across the pillows, her wings folded loosely around her like a shroud.
She looked… peaceful. And for a moment, not like the cold, unyielding queen who crushed her enemies under clawed heels, but like a woman. Just a woman. Breathing softly in the dark.
I always felt wrong for it.
So I left.
Until the night I didn't.
That night, the door creaked louder than usual. A floorboard betrayed me. Her voice cut through the darkness like a blade.
"Why are you watching me sleep?"
I froze.
Then the shadows on the bed shifted. Her eyes were glowing in the dark. Glowing.
"Answer."
"I-I'm sorry!" I dropped to my knees immediately, palms to the floor. "I wasn't trying to be creepy! I just—!"
"Speak."
"I just thought… you looked cute when you slept."
There was a long silence.
I was ready to die. Actually, I was kind of surprised I hadn't already.
Then she said something I didn't expect.
"Sleep with me."
"On it!" I shouted, hopping up, spinning for the door. "Thank you for the offer, I'll just—"
THWACK.
A solid chunk of wood slammed into the wall next to my head.
Her nightstand.
She threw her nightstand at me.
"I didn't mean in another room, you fool," she hissed. "Get in this bed. Now."
My throat dried up. "I-I turn a lot in my sleep. You probably won't like—"
"It's an order," she said flatly.
So that was it. I was stuck.
I shuffled to the side of her bed and slowly, so slowly, slipped beneath the covers. The silk was warm, the sheets cool, and her presence next to me was like a dragon coiled just inches away.
I kept my distance. Rigid. Frozen.
This didn't go unnoticed.
"Are you… avoiding me?"
"No! No, not at all!" I whispered. "I'm just a bit nervous, that's all."
There was another pause. Then, in a quieter voice: "You find me repulsive?"
"What?! No! You're—you're beautiful! You're just... scary!"
Her sigh was tired. Not frustrated—more like she didn't know what to do with me.
"Go to sleep."
"Yes, Your Majesty."
I lay there in the dark, her warmth radiating behind me, her breathing slow and steady. She didn't touch me. Didn't speak again.
But just before I drifted off, I felt the faintest weight rest lightly on my back.
Her wing.
Not wrapping. Not clinging.
Just touching.
Barely there.
But enough.