Sable licks her lips. “You…no,” she chuckles. “You can’t be, can you?”

“Can’t be what?”

A nervous laugh escapes her. “Well…a demon. You really can’t be one, right?”

He rests his chin in his hand. “What do you think, Miss Whittaker? You saw me open and close a door without touching it, and your sprained ankle is no longer injured or pained, correct?”

“R-right…”

That smile is not a smile that belongs to a demon. It’s too warm, too gentle, too human. “Is that not proof enough?”

Sable’s breath catches in her chest, and she feels glued to her seat. “Y-you…” she pants. “You really are a demon, aren’t you?”

He leans forward towards her once more. “Correct, Miss Whittaker.”

Sable can feel her mind go thousands of miles a minute, faster than any carriage, any blimp, even those new-fangled automobiles. 

The first words out of her mouth surprise even her. 

“If you’re a demon…” she begins. “Can you curse people?”

Mr. Leroux blinks. Clearly, he had not expected such a question either. “Well…yes, I can,” he says. “I don’t do it often, however.”

Sable is the one to lean forward now, a delicious idea brewing in her mind. “And you can make contracts, deals, correct?”

His smile flutters now, an awkward, boyish grin. “Erm…yes, I have contracts with all of my employees here.”

Sable can’t fight the grin spreading across her face. “I have a proposition for you, Mister Leroux,” she says.

Those blue eyes flicker brightly, he’s interested, she can sense it.  She thought it was only a myth, a rumor, that deals were irresistible to demons. But now she sees how true it is. “What sort of proposition, Miss Whittaker?”

She leans back, trying to look as commanding as possible as she can in a simple, plain nightgown. “Curse my arranged fiance,” she tells him.

Oh, those eyes. They truly are proof of his demonic origins. They flicker and waver, sometimes their brightness changes. “Why would I do that?” he asks, but the interest in his voice…

Sable smiles. “My fiance, Silas Montgomery, is a cruel bastard,” she says bluntly, not caring that cursing is unladylike. Mr. Leroux already knows she’s a far cry from a proper lady by now. “I admit, upon first meeting him, I thought he was attractive. But he made his true personality obvious the moment we were left alone to talk. It would be one thing if we were merely incompatible. But he looks at me as though I am beneath him, and he has no consideration for me, even as a fiance. For lord’s sake,” she cries, “At our engagement party tonight, he spent much of it dancing with someone else!”

Mr. Leroux raises his head, understanding. “I see, I see,” he breathes. “It sounds to me, you’d rather have a partner, someone of equal standing by your side, rather than being some trophy wife, to be used to look good, to win over others and conquer, only to be pushed to the side behind closed doors, am I right?”

Sable pauses before nodding. “Yes, yes, you’re right,” she admits. “I know such wishes and desires are but a pipe dream in the society we live in, but at the very least, I would prefer a husband who doesn’t so blatantly want to use me, and who tells me to my face that I am nothing.”

Mr. Leroux’s mouth curls up into a grin on one side. “I do believe we have mutual wishes, then,” he says, before snapping his fingers.

Sable gasps as a long scroll of paper appears before her, and he places it on the table.

“How does this sound?” he asks her. “I curse your fiance, and after the engagement is officially called off…” The fireplace casts a strange shadow upon his face. “Well, you become my companion.”

She can’t help but blink a moment. “Companion?” she asks.

He nods. “Of course, we’d have to legally marry, as I doubt your family would approve of you becoming friends with me otherwise.”

Sable nods. “Correct.”

“While legally, we’d be considered husband and wife, we’d be more akin to friends and business partners.”

She blinks. “You’re a businessman?”

Mr. Leroux nods. “I am. I inherited the original Malcolm Leroux’s hotels, and on my own, I am a private exorcist.”

Sable stares at him for a long moment. “A demon who’s a private exorcist,” she murmurs. “That sounds…contradictory.”

He smiles. “It’s less contradictory than you would believe, Miss Whittaker.

“As my wife, you’d help in running the hotels and with my exorcisms. You’d be my confidante, my partner. And I’d be the same to you. I will never look down on you, and you will be treated as my equal, nothing less.”

Sable’s eyes flick down the contract. It’s true; everything he’s saying is written there. It’s…too good to be true.

Aren’t demonic contracts supposed to end up benefiting the demon more than the human?

This is quite suspicious, as she can’t see any major detriments for either of them listed. 

Just to be sure, however…

“Do you mind if I add something to the contract?”

Mr. Leroux laces his fingers together. “What would you like to add?” he asks.

She smiles as politely as she can. “You are not allowed to use magic on me under any circumstances.”

He blinks. “Even after I healed your ankle?”

“Not even something like that. It’s nice to have it healed quickly, but…well, let’s just say if you can heal me with magic, you can also hurt me that way.”

His eyes flicker. “I would never-”

“You say that,” Sable interjects, “But spoken promises can easily be broken. I would like it in writing,” she says, tapping the paper. 

Mr. Leroux purses his lips. “Three times.”

“Pardon?”

“I shall add a clause to the contract. I will be able to use magic on you up to three times. When your life is in danger. That is it. If I exceed the use of magic on you, I shall be exorcized back to Hereafter for 1,000 years, unable to return to the human realm until the allotted time is over.” His eyes spark darkly, now almost the color of the night sky. “How does that sound?” he asks, but his tone is low. Sable has a feeling the question is less a question and more of a final offer.

She exhales, leaning back in her chair. “That’s fine with me,” she agrees.

Mr. Leroux flicks his wrist, and a fountain pen appears between his fingers. He takes the paper and signs his name with a flourish. “And you,” he says, handing her the pen.

Sable takes one more apprehensive look down the paper, weighing her options.

Silas will be cursed, in exchange for her companionship.

All in all, not a terrible deal.

She signs her name in her best handwriting.

Mr. Leroux smiles as he takes the paper. “Thank you,” he says, curling the scroll up and up until it vanishes into nothing. 

Sable nods. “Alright then,” she says, and everything just sort of sinks in in that moment. She’s already engaged, but now she’s engaged to a different man, a man she met barely a few hours ago, a near stranger who happens to be a demon from Hereafter.

Certainly not how she expected her night to go. 

Mr. Leroux sighs. “I apologize for my lack of a ring,” he says, and Sable erupts into laughter. An engagement ring had been the last thing on her mind.

“Quite frankly,” she says, “I hadn’t expected to be engaged to not one, but two men by the end of the night.”

“We must get that taken care of right away, shouldn’t we?” Mr. Leroux asks as the grand doors open.

A tall, older man walks in. The butler, Sable presumes. “Posy asked me to inform Miss Whittaker that her clothes have been washed, dried, and repaired,” he says.

Sable gasps as she checks the clock. It is nearly one at night.

Good god, her parents must be scared out of their wits!

She gets to her feet. “I must be on my way home-” she begins, but Mr. Leroux cuts her off.

“Miss Whittaker,” he says, carefully putting his gloves on. “As your new fiance, I must impose on you once more for tonight, and take you home by my carriage,” he says with a smile.

Sable pauses and nods. “Ah,” she says. “Thank you, Mr. Leroux.”

He smiles at her. “Now go and retrieve your clothes before we head out. And please, call me Malcolm. We are engaged, after all.”

Sable reciprocates the smile, albeit more wary. “Alright, Malcolm,” she says, and she notices that the light from the fireplace casts a reddish tint to his face. “But only if you call me Sable.”

He nods at her. “As you wish, Sable.”