The journey lasted nearly three weeks.
Three weeks of rough roads, long nights beneath black trees, cold mornings, crowded inns, endless caravan stops, and more conversations than Gray had expected to have in an entire month.
Somehow, Vessa had found a way to ask him questions every single day.
She even asked him whether Incubi preferred sweet or bitter food, which had led to a twenty-minute argument because Gray had told her that being an Incubus did not mean he had an entire race-wide preference for food.
Riven had listened to most of it with the tired expression of someone who had accepted his fate.
The capital finally appeared on the twenty-first morning.
Gray noticed it before the others.
The road rose gradually over a long black hill, and beyond it, the forest suddenly ended.
A massive city stretched across the horizon.
Gray's eyes narrowed.
"So that's the Demon Capital."
Vessa immediately leaned over the side of the wagon.
"Wait, where?"
"Straight ahead."
