Damon returned to his study after laying Pandora gently in his bed and pulling a blanket up around her, a smile on his face. He had instructed Kirk to take whatever cloths he found and set them on the end of the bed, in order for Pandora to see them as soon as she woke up. Damon had also left a little note telling her that she didn't have to get up immediately after she awoke, since nothing ever happened at this time of day that was exciting enough to warrant getting up to see.
Damon did hope that she got some good sleep. He didn't like to think how long she had gone with only a few minutes of rest at a time, probably incapable of shutting her eyes during the day because of the townsfolk who would be all around her at all times no matter where she was, and not able to sleep at night because she would be navigating the back alleys of the cities. Then, after all that, she'd still had to snoop around and do some reconnaissance to figure out a way into Damon's manor. Finally, after all that and not enough sleep to justify it, she had had to fight Damon and his guards. And while the majority of their duel had admittedly been rather calm and relaxed, the bits where it had gotten challenging were the bits that should have taken out any normal person with as horrible of a sleep schedule as the one Pandora had been forced into. But Pandora wasn't normal. She was something extraordinary. Something Damon would treasure for the rest of his life, and any amount of time beyond that which he might be allowed. He did have to wonder, however, what Pandora was really capable of. The cities of Carpture weren't even all that densely populated or well guarded compared to some other places, meaning that she would have gotten more rest trying to get through them then she would have in some of the places she had been. She had to have been just as tired when she was fighting to kill other villains, if not more so. Damon shuddered, realizing that no one really knew what she was actually capable of when she was well-rested and not forced into a spiral of depression by the bunch of self-righteous pricks she had to work under. She was already a world-renowned menace to villainy, with her claws dug into every possible society and culture on the planet. People feared her name, and it was even considered a curse to speak it in some more superstitious places. And she had done most of that without even having a full night of sleep to back her. Sure, her speeches and appearances in public were probably well thought out and she most likely had enough rest to get through them without doing anything that might have been rooted in sleep-deprived stupidity, but that didn't matter. Everything she had done that had actually gotten the status of a household name was something she had done without even needing to be fully rested to do it. That meant it was easy enough for her that she didn't need to worry about being completely awake. And that was terrifying. The very thought that Pandora Viousce wasn't even at her threshold when she had killed some of the greatest villains in the kingdom sent chills running through Damon.
The young Duke shook his head to himself, laughing a little. Pandora was a complete menace. But she was his menace. And together, they could be the happiest, most loving menaces in the world. It was starting to hit him that they would be working alongside each other, possibly even working together if their interest aligned. Him, and the greatest hero-turned-villain of this generation and several more to come. His name would be right next to hers in the history books, as would his list of accomplishments and atrocities. The two of them would be united forever in the public eye. Or, at least, in the eyes of villains. Heroes would probably think of Damon as a complete douchebag, and Pandora as a poor, innocent victim who needed help to escape the grasp of evil. But that didn't particularly matter; all that did matter was that Damon would be with Pandora forever, and at the very least his side of the world would know it. It was quite a flustering thought, considering that he was one of the least respected villains in the eyes of heroes. Not many of them even knew his name, despite the fact that there was only about fifty acres of forest separating the edge of Carpture from the walls of Northmine, making Damon the villain who was most closely situated to a city of heroes. He could see the tops of the city in the distance from the roof garden on his manor, and even make out the colors of their flags on nice days. And yet, no one in that city knew of his existence. But they were going to soon enough. When heroes started marching through their towns to get to Carpture, they were all going to know exactly who he was. And they were all going to despise him for the simple reason that people they trusted told them to. God, it was going to be so much fun. Sitting and waiting in his manor for people to arrive and try to kill him, all while his cityfolk were safely tucked away in the strongholds awaiting the departure of their enemies. He and Pandora could listen to the radio together while thousands of upset village folk wailed on the walls and tried to forced their way in. They could enjoy the storms of bullets and the horrific protests to the tune of their favorite music, laughing at the silly fools who thought they stood a chance in a city like this. Oh yes, it was going to be fun. So, so much fun. One of the most enjoyable things Damon might ever get the pleasure of experiencing.
Damon closed the study door and returned to his desk, sitting down and leafing through the papers that still remained on his desk. Some of them were extra maps he hadn't yet sketched out charts on, and some were death threats he wouldn't have bothered reading if they weren't so entertaining. He took a few minutes to clean up, arranging everything neatly so that he could see exactly where everything was and get to it easily. He leaned back in his chair once he was finished with the mess, pondering what he should do next. Most of the time when he was stuck without work to attend to, he just picked up whatever book he was reading at the moment and started in where he had left off, or took a walk through the garden. But neither of those seemed very practical now. He had far too many things running through his head at once to sit still and quietly let himself sink into a world where you didn't have to worry about heroes being sent after you whenever some statement or other about 'fixing the issues from the ground up' needed to be made in their cities. And while a walk in the garden seemed nice, he knew he would probably just end up getting bored and kicking stones into the flowerbeds, which was a nasty habit he was attempting to break for the sake of his gardener and all the time the man spent picking rocks out of the foliage and dumping them back into the gravely paths they belonged in.
Damon was considering trying to practice a piano piece that had been giving him grief for the past couple of months, when the door opened and Kirk stepped into the room. Damon looked up, a bit put out. "I thought you were going to start knocking." He said, smiling a little. "My apologies, sir." The young butler said, a note of apprehension in his voice. Damon looked him over more closely, furrowing his brow. "Are you alright?" He asked, a little worried. Kirk seemed flustered, which was extremely unlike him. He even seemed a bit shocked, as though he had seen a ghost or something. The butler nodded. "I am perfectly fine. I suppose it's just a bit of a surprise to get a visit from someone like Daniel Glevthop." He said, casting Damon a conspicuous glance. Damon sat up, his amused smile fading to a completely serious look. "Is this a joke?" He asked, hoping it was. Kirk shook his head. "He's waiting for you in the sitting room." He said, swallowing hard. Damon shuddered. "Did he mention his business?" He asked, already knowing what he was here for. Or, rather, who. Kirk bit his lip, worried. "No. He said he'd prefer to discuss it with you. And just you." He added. Damon nodded, taking a shaky breath. "Alright. I guess I should have expected this." He sighed, taking his jacket and turning to examine his reflection in the window. He didn't look entirely presentable with his tussled hair and complete lack of any tie or waistcoat, but it would have to do. After all, he didn't want to keep his royal visitor waiting.
YOU ARE READING
Morals of a Villain
General Fiction(Completed) Damon, a Duke by right, has never particularly liked the morally righteous narcissists he frequently has to deal with in everyday life. While others might see them as heroes courageously pitting themselves against the horrible and sadist...
