As to be expected, the ministers expressed their desire for a more appropriate bride, a stronger one, with a bloodline to match.
The veiled contempt wasn’t lost on Amelia. She almost flinched at the hostility she was being shown for the first time ever since she had been brought to the castle.
What do you expect? She chastised herself. You’re unfit to be his bride. You’re human and he is the demon king.
“You are the demon king, your highness,” one of them said, implying she was unworthy of him. “There are standards to uphold.”
“Naturally, you can keep Lady Amelia as a paramour,” another one said, a cynical smile stretching his lips.
A paramour… the word rang ominously in Amelia’s head. She didn’t want to be a mistress among many. She wanted to be the one Liam shared his bed with
