"Love is not always about peace. There are jealousy, fights and so on. That's the thrill of love."
- Author
---
Things were going according to plan… or so it seemed.
The plan was simple: seduce Grisha, who would be accompanying Gable on the day of the festival, and take his place. Wendy had done it—somehow. Grisha was out of sight, and Wendy was now wearing his skin. The infiltration worked. But something felt... off.
She hadn't sent any messages to the team—not even to Joseph.
Gemini 4th.
At the Seraphine breakfast table, Gable sat at the head, flanked by "Grisha" and Stella. Morning light spilled in, but the tension was palpable beneath the surface.
Gable finished his wine and stood. "Don't make a mess of the house while I'm gone," he said with a sneer before striding out of the room.
As the door clicked shut behind him, Stella leaned slightly toward Grisha.
"Wendy," she whispered. "Why haven't you used Maho to communicate? Is everything okay? Joseph was worried about you."
The disguised Wendy stiffened ever so slightly, then forced a grin.
"Yeah... I... I've been trying really hard to stay in character," she muttered in a low voice. "I just—don't want to risk tipping Gable off. He watches everything."
Stella nodded but looked unconvinced. "You could've at least sent a note. Do you want me to pass something along to Joseph?"
Wendy's gaze dropped. She hesitated for a moment before saying softly, "Tell him... I miss him. Just that. Don't say anything else. Let's keep to the plan. Wait for the festival."
There was a strange pause.
Stella tilted her head, studying her. "By the way… how did you even manage to shut Grisha away so easily? I know he's a floaty, arrogant type—but you made it seem too easy."
Wendy gave a tight smile. "You're still too young, Stella. Let's just say… there are ways a woman can make things easier."
She stood abruptly. "I have matters to attend to—as Grisha," she added, voice stiff. With that, she walked out, posture sharp and controlled.
Stella watched her leave through the long morning-lit corridor, her expression slowly darkening.
"I hope… everything is still going smoothly."
---
At the tavern,
"No message from Wendy yet?" Elias asked, sliding a drink across the counter toward Joseph. "Drinking in the morning, huh? Women really do make a man's life miserable."
"I'm not in the mood for your teasing," Joseph muttered, taking the glass. "I just hope she's safe."
"To be honest… I'm worried too." Elias took the empty glass back and started pouring another. "Want another one?"
Joseph gave a small nod.
"She's in deep," Elias said, eyes on the amber liquid swirling in the glass. "From what I've heard, Grisha's not the kind of guy you want to test."
"I figured," Joseph replied, taking the second drink. "He's the type to have... things hidden under the surface."
Elias leaned on the counter, her voice dropping. "There are rumors. Real nasty ones. Heard them in the alleys from girls who work the back end of the city. One story sticks with me."
Joseph glanced up. Elias looked dead serious.
"There was a prostitute. A few months back. Found dead. Her whole body was… wrecked. Especially her—" She paused, swallowing as a chill ran down her spine. "They said it looked like someone shoved too many things in her. Like... she was used until her body gave out."
Joseph's grip tightened around the glass. "What?"
"Yeah. Word is, she was offered to someone from a high noble house. Not Grisha himself—but one of his people."
Joseph stared into his drink, his knuckles white.
Elias went quiet, her voice low and grim. "That's not even the worst part. Her mother—the old woman—marched up to the Seraphine mansion the next day, yelling, accusing Grisha of killing her only daughter."
Joseph looked up.
"She met the same ending as her daughter." Elias walked off toward the kitchen, then called out from behind the curtain. "Did I mention she was eighty-seven?"
A few seconds later, she returned, placing a small plate of appetizers in front of Joseph. Her face was pale.
"That's the kind of man Wendy's stuck with right now," Elias said softly. "When it comes to power, sex, or abuse... Grisha doesn't care about age. Or consequence."
Joseph sat in silence. The drink trembled slightly in his hand.
---
Von woke up.The sun hung directly overhead, its light piercing through the canopy like sharp needles. He tried to sit up, but his strength gave out—his arms trembled and collapsed beneath him.
"Hey, hey... easy now. Don't move too fast. Your body's not recovered yet," said a voice—refined, warm, and oddly familiar. A man knelt beside him, dressed in fine garments that looked like they belonged to a time long forgotten. His aura was calm, radiant—almost otherworldly.
Von's vision slowly cleared, and his eyes widened."You… aren't all the Archangels supposed to be dead?"
The man gave a half-smile, brushing dust from his sleeve. "That's a bit harsh, considering I just saved your life. But yeah—everyone, except me."
He pulled out a water bladder and offered it to Von. "Here. Drink."
Von took a few sips, coughing lightly as the cool water hit his parched throat. Then he stared at the man again, more clearly this time.
"You must be Lucifer... the Exile."
"Well," the man chuckled, "there are many titles people like to throw around. But yes—Lucifer will do."
Von's brows furrowed. "You were sent on a far-off mission, weren't you? By the Lord himself."
Lucifer's smile faded. He looked off into the trees as if remembering something distant."The presence of the Lord has vanished. Just... gone. And with it, the balance began to crumble. The Seven—" his voice grew grim, "—they've grown far more powerful than they should've been allowed."
Von tried to speak, but Lucifer held up a hand.
"The mission I was sent on—it succeeded. But... there's something left unfinished. Something I couldn't handle alone. And now, with you here..." He looked Von straight in the eyes. "We may still have a chance."
What are things that need to be done? Will Wendy be okay?