"I am aware." Ezekiel said. "I am sometimes unsure of even what my own mind says. I am used to the other intruding on me that I forgot how much of him was actually my own thought. I never realized that my attraction to you was me and not him.....I apologize, Mistress I have said a bit too much. I wish to serve you and that is all." Ezekiel got up from her creadling wing and paced a little around the room. He resisted the urge to have another fit like he had in response to the kiss the other succubus had given him in healing.

"Hmm." Yattara seemed thoughtful. She deliberated for a moment, then decided it was best to wait and see what Ezekiel would do. It was an opportunity to learn about him.

Finally, Ezekiel really couldn't resist his fits. He grabbed his horns and exhaled in frustration, closing his eyes so hard that he was still blind by the time he opened them. It took a while before he regained his vision. He ripped out a bit of his hair and then sat down on the bed as if nothing had happened. "You were saying?"

"Interesting tic of yours. And I was saying nothing, as a matter of fact," the succubus said. "I will meet you at the front door tomorrow morning to depart for Thenaea. You may wish to pack."

Yattara just vanished. It was as though she had never been in the room, rather than the poofs of smoke or scent that other planar creatures sometimes perferred to mark their departure.

Ezekiel bent his brow in question. For one, he had no belongings. And for two...he didn't know what tic she was referring to. He didn't really remember much. He remembered her saying that he was uncomfortable...and that was it.

Yattara rematerialized in her private corner of Azzagrat, stretching her wings out fully now that she was someplace more comfortable. This potential alliance between Thenaea and Hestavar could become useful...and could be very easily turned into a war when the time came. Betrayal was so easy to orchestrate with the right moves.

She stepped over to game board by her window. It wasn't like a proper chessboard any more, with four armies marked on it. That of her Lord's, Demogorgon's, Orcus's, and the forces of good. Yattara picked up a piece and turned the tiefling thoughtfully over in her fingers before setting him down in a different square. Things were going better than she had expected...even hoped. In time, Yattara wagered--or would have if she was a betting creature--that Ezekiel could bring her a decisive victory over Demogorgon's cult. Unfortunately, that might draw the attention of the Prince of Demons to him, but if he was that useful she acknowledged that protecting him might be necessary.

Might.

Ezekiel didn't rest much, instead he insisted on playing with some cards. It helped him focus. It helped him to push down the emotions that kept coming to the surface. After that, he wrote in his journal.

An obsession. Mistress is pleased. She is concerned. I am too. She is everything. I follow her.

(The same wrong date was recorded)

Yattara was waiting for him the next morning downstairs by the front door, reading a spell book as though she hadn't a care in the world...though the book was written in Abyssal with blood in place of ink and bound in what frighteningly resembled human skin. It was a treatise on Demogorgon written by a crazed cultist of the Lord of All that Swims in Darkness. The mortal had died by being devoured by his lord, but Graz'zt had stolen the book before the Demon Prince could destroy it and given it to Yattara for safeguarding and research.

Ezekiel was up and early. He had already gotten a bite to eat entering the main hall and seeing his Mistress. He approached her and knelt to one knee. "Your Grace. As always I am blessed in your presense."

Yattara closed her book with a crisp snap. "Ezekiel, I do wish you would listen to what I say. Your formality irritates me," the succubus said, though her tone was as smooth as always--it was never easy to find any emotion readily apparent in Yattara unless she was inspired to true extremes. She preferred a clear head to the chaotic rages other succubi were prone to.

Ezekiel stood up. "I apologize, Mistress. I shall treat you..."
He didn't know what to say. He was confused. He couldn't see him treating her any other then a queen. She was his queen. He stared at her blankly and swallowed. "I'm sorry Mistress. Forgive me."
He turned his head and wiped the tears from his eyes. She was cutting off the only way he could express how he felt about her.

For a brief moment, the succubus was completely baffled, though the only hint was a slight flicker of something indescribable across her face. Of all the mortals that end up serving me, why am I putting so much confidence in the strangest? "Ezekiel, you are forgiven. Now what is troubling you?"

"Nothing, Mistress. If I am forgiven, I thank you for your mercy. And now I will cease to treat you...you...like..." Ezekiel averted his eyes, a look of confusion spread across his face; like he had forgotten something. "You deserve to be treated like a Queen, Mistress. Why are you irratated so?"

"Because the bowing and fawning mortals bestow on one another and prostrations of lesser creatures before gods and demons alike is a waste when directed at me," Yattara said. "Everything I do is for a greater purpose. Such things take up time that is better used, and wastes the breath of servants who I have other designs for."

The succubus reached out with almost blinding speed, catching the front of Ezekiel's shirt and pulling him towards her gently, if insistently. "Ezekiel," she said quietly, folding her wing around him to hold him there. "Why did you lie to me?"

"I am unsure of which lies you speak of Mistress. If I am lying to you I do not know of it." Ezekiel said, keeping his composure as his proximity with her was too close for comfort. "I understand now, Mistress. I will not waste time."