The Demon Queen and the Faery Prince

Startled the Queen had no time to wonder or to think. The last thing she saw was the cold blue eyes turn to fire and the slender body blur and then she saw nothing but blood and fire. If she had been watching from the outside she would have seen Psukhe spin and leap for the long silver sword that lay across the consul table. She would have seen him raise it and swing it with such precision that it severed her head completely before stopping millimetres away from Deva's terrified eyes.

Released from the Queen's spell he melted and reformed as her body slumped to the floor.

Psukhe let the bloodied sword fall from his numb fingers and looked at Deva with dazed eyes. "I think perhaps that I am more demon than I thought."

With a sob Deva threw himself into his arms and they held each other, holding on tightly until the shadows lengthened and others used them to reconnoitre the situation. Now that the Demon Queen was dead her wards had failed and there was nothing to prevent the faery overrunning the palace. As soon as they realised this the guards stormed the queen's bedroom to find Psukhe awaiting them holding her gory head aloft.

The law of demon kind demands that he, or she, who takes the head of a man, or woman, took their place and station. This extended to their royalty and meant that Psukhe was now the Demon King... at least for this race and kind. Although at first they were shocked the guards knew their place and immediately fell to their knees renouncing the Queen and acknowledging Psukhe as their king.

After clearing the bedroom and displaying the Queen's head on a pole outside the window as evidence of the change in title he was ready to sink onto the bed and sleep. However it was not to be, not just yet.

Without preamble the doors were thrown open and elemetals of all kinds spilled into the room. Psukhe groaned inwardly. His mother was the last person he wanted to see now. With a sigh he forced himself to stand erect facing the door.

The Faery Queen swept into the room, the hem of her silver white dress floating around her feet. She stopped before her son and gazed into his eyes. Raising her hand she cupped his chin and tilted his head to look deeper.

"Show me." She commanded.

Obediently he complied and red fire flared and spewed from his eyes. The Queen's eyes widened and other's audibly gasped. Unsure what would happen next the Prince blinked and his eyes regained their crystal blue colour.

After a moment pause the Queen, shockingly, pulled her son into an embrace. He hissed at the gems encrusting her dress dug into his naked skin. Resting her cheek on his hair she whispered so that none but he could hear.

"My son. I thought I had lost you and I have. I lost the child you were but have gained the man you have become. I am proud." She held the stunned prince close for a few moment more and then released him. Shocked by the uncharacteristic display of affection from his mother he was further shocked a moment later when she sank to one knee and bowed her head.

"All hail to thee, most glorious and terrible Prince of the Fey, Lord of the Aethers, Demon King."