26: The Feast of Eros (2)

The chandelier, forged from fire magic and stardust, spun grandly overhead in intricate, dazzling loops. Only now did I come to appreciate one unexpected benefit of being an archangel: the six wings. During sacred ceremonies in the Sanctum, the rite required two wings to cover the eyes, two to cover the feet, and two to keep aloft. Now, I could use them to cover myself.

My clothes had been reduced to strips of fabric. Slowly propping myself up, I looked down at my short legs and paused, dazed. I then reached out with both hands—soft and chubby, like a newborn’s. Pale little fingers, bruised and scratched from earlier struggles.

With a few flaps, I lifted myself from the bed. The flight was sluggish; it took a long time to reach the full-length mirror.

I had shrunk. Temporarily, I couldn’t use much magic.

My crimson hair now barely touched my shoulders, glossy and smooth. My cheeks were still streaked with tears, and my eyes were swollen like two little walnuts, still ocean-deep blue, but much larger in this form. The six golden wings on my back had shrunk too, fluttering faster but weak, their feathers softened. It was hard not to recall that year when Ruthfel nestled in my arms like this. Only now, my body was covered in wounds.

I shifted slightly, and pain surged so sharply that the child in the mirror went completely pale.

Wrapped tightly in a towel, I passed through the wide corridors into the bath chamber. The demon maids gasped softly at the sight of me.

I dismissed them and filled the tub myself. When my body slipped fully beneath the water, the pain was so intense it nearly forced tears from my eyes.

Back in my room, an attendant arrived with the latest issue of the Rhodheoga Times, with a rather awkward expression.

The moment I unfolded the paper, bold headlines leapt out at me:

LUCIFER AND MICHAEL LOSE THEMSELVES IN ECSTASY AT THE FEAST OF EROS!

Lilith and Mammon Remain Silent?

Affair Between the Demon King and the Archangel—Fact or Fiction?

Why Did Vice Regent Michael Flee the Feast?

The True Purpose Behind Michael’s Visit to the Demon Realm?

Did Lucifer Betray the Demons Because of Michael’s Seduction?

……

The rest of the headlines were equally lurid. But all circled back to the events at the feast.

I spared them only a glance before tossing the paper aside and curling up under the covers.

A voice called from outside the door: “Your Highness Michael, will you be attending the royal banquet at eight tonight?”

“No.”

“…Eh? Why’s there a kid here?”

I froze, then quickly adjusted my voice: “I’ll give you an answer tonight.”

A long pause passed before the sound of footsteps retreating confirmed the visitor had gone.

Afterwards, Metatron requested to see me several times. I refused every time, even ordering the demon guards to escort him back to Heaven.

I know Metatron well—he rarely acts on impulse. If he couldn’t see me, he would grit his teeth and wait. But if he saw what I looked like now, he’d say everything, including that Lucifer had forced himself on me.

To the demons, it would be juicy gossip at most. But in Heaven, it would be a disgrace to our entire race. The divine race is the proudest in the world; even with just a single copper left in their pocket, they’d spend it to buy back their dignity.

If I had been forced… there’d be no diplomatic way out. The only path left would be war with the Demon Realm, exactly what Lucifer wanted.

His “political means” to take me back, was to provoke our weakened race, then to conquer Heaven.

But he never anticipated… what if it had been consensual?

I couldn’t bear to imagine the scene when Heaven learned of this. I submerged my head in water, forcing my mind into temporary stillness.

Then I remembered what happened last night.

The key difference between a seraph and an ordinary angel lies in a specific gland, the Celestial Core. It’s excruciatingly sensitive. Repeated stimulation of that area guarantees conception, and the next day… a seraph shrinks.

Even so, birth can be induced through wing-vibration or controlled with magic.

Lucifer… did this on purpose.

If I wanted to force a winged birth, it would have to be done before dusk.

I gently pressed my hand to my stomach and gazed at the snow-covered imperial capital beyond the window. Slowly, I closed my eyes.

I forced myself to sleep through the afternoon. By evening, I had recovered just enough magic to return to my adult form. I headed out, hoping to find Hanniah and the angelic legion.

When I knocked at Hanniah’s room, no one responded for a long time.

Just as I turned away, a servant appeared behind me. “Your Highness Michael, Lord Hanniah accompanied Lord Metatron and have already returned to Heaven. He came back briefly at noon and took two-thirds of the angels with him.”

“What? He didn’t tell me.”

“He didn’t give any instructions. I only overheard it during their conversation. Oh—and a few angels asked me to pass on a message: Don’t ever return to Heaven. Just fall and enjoy your life with His Majesty in the Demon Realm. Because if you do come back, there will be no grave left for you.”

“What were their names?”

“One of them was called Hareth. He said he was utterly disappointed in you. Even if you return to Heaven safely, he will never follow you again. From this day on, you are his enemy.”

Hareth… We hadn’t spoken often, but I still remembered our first conversation vividly.

“Your Highness Michael, my parents wanted me to study water magic at Divine Law, but I insisted on fire magic and went to the Academy of the Seventh instead. They were so mad they wouldn’t even look at me. I was so upset.

But Seventh and fire magic were your choices, and I wanted to follow your path too! You’re the youngest archangel, but stronger than any Seraph I’ve ever seen. You’re the greatest of the divine race and I want to become a man like you someday!”

He must have truly admired me, enough to notice every detail. Every time I so much as frowned, he knew what was on my mind. He was thoughtful, impossible to forget.

But such passionate loyalty… never tolerates betrayal.

And he wasn’t the only one who had idealized me in this way.

I looked up and sighed softly. The tsunami to come was already taking shape on the horizon.

Heaven… what kind of place is it, really? A homeland that stirs both love and hate. A land I cannot let go of, no matter how much I try.

Sometimes, I wish I could lay my heart bare before them, cut it open and show them everything inside. Let them see I’m not the person they think I am. Let them understand that everything I’ve done… had its reasons.

But as time goes on, there’s more and more to consider. More and more I cannot say. Just like I can’t tell Lucifer why I struck him so mercilessly all those years ago.

After thousands of years of loneliness, I don’t long for someone to comfort me. I only want someone who understands me.

But what could I even explain?

If it’s something I can speak aloud, could it really be called grievance?

No matter how heavy the burdens one carries, no matter how much they drag themselves forward half-alive, in the end, most of life is lived for others. There’s so little left that truly belongs to oneself.

……

Walking was still difficult, so I flew alone toward the banquet hall.

The grand hall was quiet. A long table split the room down the center, with silverware floating in place and beams of magic light swirling gently overhead. The walls were adorned with elegant, luminous oil paintings. The nobles had already taken their seats on either side. At the head sat Lilith, and beside her, an empty seat.

Aside from the faint clink of utensils, the room was silent. The moment I entered, everyone turned to look at me in unison, but not one of them spoke. Lilith paused mid-motion, her fork hovering with a piece of meat before she lowered it to her plate.

Closest to her, Mammon straightened sharply in his seat and turned to face me.

Their gazes held unmistakable astonishment.

I swallowed and smiled politely. “Sorry I’m late.”

Lilith smiled back. “His Highness Michael didn’t respond, so we thought you wouldn’t be coming. We started without you—my apologies. Please, come sit.”

Mammon beckoned me over. I sat beside him. A plate drifted down in front of me, followed by a neat chorus of cutlery clinking into place. Just as I picked up my knife and fork, I noticed everyone was still staring at me… oddly.

Then, the closed doors opened again.

Lucifer entered briskly, stripping off his coat and black velvet gloves as he walked. He handed them to a servant and took the empty seat beside Lilith.

From here, I could just make out the soft reflection of the tableware on his face, and the droplets of water still clinging to the damp fringe of his hair.

“I had some matters to attend to so I came late.”

He looked preoccupied. He didn’t even bother to offer a real apology.

Yet everyone smiled understandingly and nodded graciously.

Lucifer slipped off his left glove. A pale blue object fell into his dish. Lilith picked it up and blinked in surprise. “A seven-petal snowflake? You went to Snowmoon Forest?”

“Mm…” Lucifer paused mid-reply, glancing in my direction. “No. I only passed by.”

“You shouldn’t disappear without saying anything,” Lilith chided gently. “I nearly sent people looking.”

“…Mm.”

Their voices were low, only those near them could hear.

The silverware on the table gleamed bright as snow. The largest dish, polished to a mirror shine, reflected the person sitting opposite. I could see Lucifer’s reflection clearly as he elegantly sliced his fish and deboned it with practiced ease. Even his nose looked as if it had been carved from diamonds.

The memory of the previous night came crashing down all at once. I drew a long, slow breath.

The entire Demon Realm knew what had happened—but no one would speak of it.

If no one would bring it up… then I would.

I sat in silence for a long time, still unsure how to begin. In the reflection on my plate, Lucifer’s image turned slightly, and his eyes seemed to fall in my direction.

Then his gaze drifted downward—to the reflection in the dish.

We held each other’s eyes for less than a second before he furrowed his brow faintly and looked away.

Mammon dropped a few pieces of meat onto my plate and muttered, “You look like hell. Eat something nourishing. I’ll have them bring you some honeyed milk later. You have drink it, okay?”

His voice was low, but his tone resolute.

He knew too, of course. What had happened.

I turned back and smiled. “Mhm, thank you.”

“Lord Michael.” Lucifer’s voice sounded behind me.

I hadn’t expected him to speak. Caught off guard, I straightened up. “What is it…… Your Majesty?”

Everyone in the hall lifted their heads to look at us.

Lucifer stared at the food on his plate for a long moment before finally raising his eyes to meet mine. “I was too disrespectful yesterday.”

Once again, I was unprepared. I never thought he would be this direct.

The hall remained silent.

Lucifer gripped his knife and fork. “Because I’ve always admired Your Highness deeply… and because I was honored by your attention… and I had a little to drink… I apologize.”

Utterly insincere. I smiled. “It was mutual consent, Your Majesty. No need to trouble yourself over it.”

Sensing Lucifer’s stiffness, I quickly added, “Your Majesty, I’ve read quite a few books written by the demons. They’re brilliant, truly—but a few of them contain minor errors.”

“Please, do tell.”

I dabbed my hands with a napkin. “Many of them say the divine race oppresses the weak and tramples the poor. I’d like to suggest that may be a product of an earlier era—and a misleading one. Our Father holds a compassionate responsibility to care for the weak and impoverished. Every year, Archangels like Lord Raphael descend to the lower Heavens to pray and offer aid to those unable to help themselves.”

Lucifer hadn’t expected the conversation to veer in this direction, but after a brief pause, he went along smoothly. “I imagine those accounts arose because Heaven’s gates remain closed to outsiders. Impressions of the divine realm are still based on outdated perceptions, hence the misunderstandings.”

“There’s no denying we have flaws and failings. But we’ve always moved steadily toward equality and justice. I believe the peace every divine child strives for is the same yearning that lives in the hearts of many demon children as well. Our Father loves all his children—no less than Your Majesty does. If I’m not mistaken, haven’t the Demon Realm’s past assaults on Heaven all cited the divine race’s lack of equality as justification?”

Lucifer smiled faintly. “Regardless of background or birth, any demon, or even outsider, can pursue their dreams here. Leaders are chosen by strength, and anyone can support or overturn the nobles’ decisions. Even war must be approved by over ninety percent of the demon population. I’m sure, after your time here, Your Highness has felt this freedom for yourself.”

“In that case, I’d like to ask Your Majesty: in such a ‘free’ land, why do slaves still exist, treated unequally from ordinary citizens? Why are fallen angels and archdevils punished three or four times more severely than lesser devils or minotaurs for the same crimes? Why are there so few lowborn demons living in Rhodheoga? And finally—when even the Demon Realm’s strongest warrior, Mammon the Son of Satan, slaughters divine beings with brutality—how can Your Majesty continue waving the banners of ‘freedom and equality’ in your war against Heaven?”

Mammon tugged my sleeve. “Hey, hey, hey—how’d this get pinned on me now?”

Lucifer replied calmly, “Then, in Your Highness’s view…”

“I hope Your Majesty will make a pledge: that for the next thousand years, you will not wage war against Heaven.”

Lucifer said nothing.

Beelzebub spoke up, “Lord Michael, allow me to respond to your—”

“Enough,” Lucifer waved him off. “I accept.”

A low murmur rippled through the ranks of demon officials.

I took out a sheet of parchment and a white feathered pen, placing them before Lucifer. Without hesitation, he wrote and signed the ceasefire agreement.

Abaddon suddenly rose to his feet, angry, “How can something so important be decided unilaterally? Why must His Majesty wear the mask of equality to justify this tyranny?!”

“Abaddon, you’d better shut that foul mouth of yours!” Samael also stood, pointing at me, his voice rising with fury. “If it weren’t for this—”

“That’s enough!” Lucifer cut him off. “That will be all for today.”

He stood up, leaned down, and whispered in my ear,

“Michael, the only reason I wage war is to capture you. Now that you can’t return to Heaven, any request you make—I will grant it.”

Then, with cold indifference, he shrugged off his coat and walked away.

But just as he extended his right hand, I caught a glimpse of his wrist between the black glove and the cuff. Something ghastly white.

I rubbed my eyes to get a better look, but he was already gone.

……

Back at the Hall of Baisiel, I couldn’t be bothered to summon anyone. I started packing on my own. But my magic was depleted quickly, and I had reverted to my child form, the short arms and legs making everything clumsy and difficult. Halfway through packing, I wiped the sweat from my brow, sat on the bed, and realized my feet still couldn’t touch the floor. With a sigh, I lay back in frustration.

I rested a hand on my stomach. Children… truly a handful. It was annoying enough being small already. I couldn’t imagine what the future held.

Oh right, the child.

Still nameless.

I flapped my wings and flew out to the balcony.

Across from me, the heavy curtains had been pulled aside for once, revealing a chamber so vast its walls were lost in shadow. A great bed, draped in a purple-black glow, sat in the middle. It had already been made, black velvet bedding folded neatly over soft, pale sheets.

Suddenly the door opened. Lilith entered, supporting Lucifer as she helped him to the bed.

He swayed slightly, clearly drunk.

…Was I seeing things? Could he even get drunk? If so, the Demon Realm must be running low on wine…

Lilith removed her coat, dabbed the sweat from her brow, and reached out to undress him.

But the moment her hand touched him, Lucifer seized it and pulled her onto his lap. Lilith tried to rise, but he held her fast. He clung to her and kissed her feverishly, then turned and pinned her beneath him on the bed.

She pushed as a token gesture, but quickly gave in.

In the capital, the Baroque buildings rose layer upon layer, the darkness pricked by scattered points of light.

Fine robes rustled and tangled in black velvet, revealing skin as pale as snow.

I glanced up at the sky—the Milky Way and stars spilled across the night, their light clear as water. Then I turned back, leaned against the railing, and smiled faintly.

Child… forgive me for not giving you a name.

A child born of an angel and a demon is fated never to know happiness.

I love you. I truly do. But by now, even the shared memories of him and I have become a burden I can no longer carry.

Tonight will be our last night together.

Child…even if you never see it… I still want to tell you:

The sunlight in Sancta Faylia is beautiful.

So very beautiful.