In fact, the scathing, scornful exchanges that are thrown between the Upper Moons only grew louder.
"Grow up. Your attitude is exactly why your brother Gyuutaro left you, Daki," Gyokko declared, still floating over his precious flower pot much like a phantom.
Originally twirling her arctic strands, Daki stopped.
Her jaw dropped in an insulted manner, her left brow twitching as well.
"He didn't leave me!" she insisted. Her voice took on a bit of whine. "He's not here now to get me a new dress! My brother loves me."
Whatever Gyokko and the adjacent Hantengu mumbled in response, you didn't know.
Their dialogue was no longer audible to you as a separate, closer conversation drew your attention.
"Basketball looking ass," Douma rambled as he pointed to a stiffly irritated Akaza.
Taken aback, you had to remind yourself that Douma had no trouble with nicknames, braving to violate Kokushibo's name in your previous encounter with the Upper Moon Two.
Now, with the powerful demons not even a meter away from you, the raw animosity between the number neighbors felt particularly chilling.
Douma continued, "You have awful taste, you know that? You only like your food donutted."
Food.
Humans, you thought sinisterly.
Perhaps a ramen bowl with several slices of a old man's liver and extra tendons from a young boy.
Yummy.
Not.
You swallowed hard, clutching in a subtle manner at the abdomen that was bloated ever so slightly.
Whether due to morning sickness or the idea of raw human flesh, the thought made you ill and dizzy.
Turning to Kokushibo again, you silently wondered if he would join his colleagues' clamor to quell the disorder uproar.
Instead, his golden eyes glinted at you briefly and looked away.
"Stop."
Except, Kokushibo was not the one to say that.
No louder than the Upper Moon One had ordered, Muzan had calmly uttered a single word that halted all commotion.
Immediately, the Upper Moons flocked in front of you and your husband with heads slightly bent downwards.
Their gestures were nothing short of deep respect and it occurred to you that you have never seen Muzan like this before.
The way he spoke to his little minions was peculiar.
Muzan's voice was cold and flat, quite different when compared to the silvery tone he used with you.
His steeled expression also told you that he was tolerant of his subordinates, at best.
Until now, you had never really understood Muzan possibly as a heartless, cruel man.
With his arm still wrapped protectively around the small of your waist, he guided you forward.
You stepped across the wooden floor like a pretty ornament at your husband's arms, watching everyone lift their gazes.
You twidled your thumbs awkwardly, surprised by their collective curiosity when you half-expected harsh and hungry stares.
"My wife," Muzan noted when his footsteps stopped along with yours. "I would like to reintroduce you to her."
Reintroduce.
That only confirmed your suspicion that your nightmare was, in fact, no nightmare at all.
You gulped.
You certainly were not feeling too well at this point.
Kokoshibo flicked his hand, requesting and ultimately receiving his permission to speak.
"Muzan-sama," he began. "I do not understand why you brought the woman here. I had thought that our objective was to use her botany expertise to lead us to the blue spider lily. Her family has cultivated the flowers for gener—"
"You won't find that," you interjected.
How ever many eyes there were had slowly turned to you.
Given your meek and more sickly appearance, your reply must have surprised the crowd.
"The blue spider lilies are hidden elsewhere," you firmly declared.
You silently prayed that no suspicions would arise for the Butterfly Estate.
"I refuse to discuss more," you hurriedly added before they could pry for more information.
Of course, no one else was happy with your answer.
With you, the flowers that demons had been chasing after for centuries had been within arms reach.
Only for them to now learn that you had kicked their goal far down the road?
Gyokko hopped forward like a rabbit, his porcelain pot following him.
"So she's useless, our lord!" he croaked wickedly. "Surely, you brought her here with the intention to torture answers out of her? Our Blood Demon Arts should certainly help."
You gagged a little, swallowing down the digestive acids that crept up your esophagus.
"Absolutely not."
His tone wrapped in rich velvet, Muzan appeared unaffected by the confused stares from his uncharacteristic answer.
"Then, if you wouldn't like us to torment her," Douma began, leaping up as though a lightbulb brightened above him. "Would you like us to eat the girl instead? I know you like the organs fresh and—"
"This is my wife," the demon king seethed.
His response was icier than before, perhaps due to a combination of his vow to Giyuu and his own concern for you.
Whatever the reason, you certainly did not miss your husband's next words.
"I don't want anyone to do anything," he warned, "to Lady Kibutsuji."
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Since Thanksgiving is Thursday in the US, I want to thank you all for the amazing support you've provided!
