For a fraction of a second, her heart drops at the little face Jules makes, but then there's warm hands on hers and an even warmer mouth pressing to her lips.

She melts, not unlike her literary kin, draping herself over Jules and kissing her back with a note of urgency, of relief. "I didn't want any of it," she murmurs. "Not the titles, not the throne, certainly not the actual job. I ended up with it anyway, for a while." Pulling back just enough to meet Jules's eyes, she admits, "You're dating the former Queen of Hell. I can even take you to see my throne. It showed up here in the woods with my last set of memories."

For all that the confession tries to stick in her throat, she's so relieved to have it out of her-- and she finds she's not at all afraid Jules will pull away.

At least until the Purge alarm begins to blare outside.

"Shit."