King of my heart

Allies and Betrayals

Alice stands in the vast, opulent hall of his family's estate, a place he knows well yet finds strangely alien in this moment. The high-vaulted ceilings, glimmering with enchanted crystals, cast an elegant glow over the richly embroidered tapestries that line the walls, each one depicting some piece of Asmodeus family history—glorious victories, acts of seduction, tales of cunning that have built his family's reputation. Normally, these surroundings bolster Alice's confidence. But tonight, as he faces his mother, his heart pounds in his chest, his mind torn between loyalty and fear.

Amaryllis, the Sin of Lust, stands by a grand arched window, her gaze fixed outside, her silhouette bathed in the silver light of the Netherworld's twin moons. Even from behind, she is imposing; her very presence commands respect and awe. Her long, flowing robes shimmer with a faint, iridescent glow, moving like liquid as she finally turns to face him. Her expression is unreadable, the slightest hint of a smirk playing at her lips as she arches an eyebrow at her son.

"Well, Alice-chan?" Her voice is smooth, seductive, but with an edge that makes his spine stiffen. "You summoned me here in the dead of night for something... important. Do tell. You've piqued my curiosity."

Alice swallows, forcing himself to stand straight, though his palms are clammy. He takes a deep breath, eyes locking with hers, his resolve hardening. "Mother... I need your help."

Amaryllis's lips curl into a smile, though her gaze is as sharp as ever. "My help?" she repeats, a touch amused. "How very rare. What matter could have possibly made my confident, fearless son this... serious?" She takes a few steps forward, her movements fluid, almost as though she's gliding. Her gaze never leaves him, the glint in her eye telling him she's enjoying this moment of vulnerability far more than she's letting on.

Alice squares his shoulders, gathering every ounce of poise he can muster. "It's about Iruma," he says, his voice low but firm. Just speaking his Alpha's name feels like an anchor, something solid that steadies him in the presence of his formidable mother.

Amaryllis's smirk fades ever so slightly, replaced by a flicker of interest as her head tilts. "Iruma? Your Alpha-mate?" Her voice is deceptively calm, but Alice knows better than to assume disinterest. Her eyes glint with intrigue, a hint of something that makes Alice feel like she's already guessed where this conversation is headed.

"Yes," he confirms, choosing his words with care. "But he's more than that. He... he's a demi-demon, half-human and half-demon."

A faint pause lingers in the air. Amaryllis's gaze sharpens, her amusement giving way to something calculating, almost dangerous. "A demi-demon?" she repeats softly, her voice laced with intrigue. "So that's why he's managed to evade my... instincts," she murmurs, more to herself than to Alice. Her eyes return to her son, and for once, her expression betrays a hint of seriousness. "I see. And what is it you want from me, Alice-chan?"

Alice feels the weight of her gaze and the responsibility in his heart. "Iruma's true nature isn't the only reason I've come to you." He takes a breath, letting it out slowly. "We believe there's a traitor among the Thirteen Crowns—Baal. His intentions are dangerous. He wants to... bring ruin, possibly through Iruma." He holds her gaze, his words steady, his resolve burning through his unease. "I need your support, Mother. Your influence and your wisdom to navigate the risks."

Amaryllis regards him carefully, her expression unreadable. She steps closer, her face softening with an unsettling calm, though her eyes gleam with a deeper intensity. "And tell me, Alice-chan," she purrs, "what is Iruma to you, truly? Why do you feel the need to risk this much for him?"

Alice's breath catches. He knows this question is more than curiosity—it's a test, a challenge. His mother has always valued loyalty and ambition, but she's never quite understood his devotion to Iruma. In her world, strength and charm are power, and relationships are carefully crafted alliances, not deep-seated loyalty born from genuine respect.