Have Strength, My Lady (Barbatos x Reader)

Part 1

It's been centuries since you last wore this many pearls.

Your maids always make sure the balls of light are somewhere on your body, be it a single one centered on a collar, or two delicate studs in your ears, or a subtle bracelet that peeks out when you raise your arm—but today, they've dressed you from head to toe in the gemstone of your namesake. No matter how you turn your head and body, the shimmer of the pearls never fails to catch the light.

"Isn't it lovely, m'lady?" One of your dressing maids asks, smiling fondly as she gazes upon your figure. "Your father said he wanted you to wear this. Fitting, for the pearl of the abyss, wouldn't you agree?"

You nod your head, casting the maid who's been serving you for the past four millennia a soft smile.

The woman has the truth of it: if your natural beauty doesn't shout pearl of the abyss, then the dress does. The fabric alone is mesmerizing: a silky satin, blacker than the midnight sky. The color is a stark contrast to the pearls that decorate it, perfect spheres of white that trail delicate patterns around your dress. They dip low and high, at the base of the gown where it ghosts over the floor and around your the V-neck where they trail deliciously around the hints of exposed skin.

You twist your body, hypnotized by its beauty.

The way the dress ripples as you move makes it look like ebony water, little pearls floating on top to bless it with their brilliance, and of course wherever there's a chance for an accessory your maids have taken it—pearls decorating your ears, neck, wrist, and hair like snowflakes eternally bound.

"It's at times like this when I see you that I can't help but think you must be even more beautiful than Asmodeus himself, m'lady." Your maid wipes a tear from her eye, knowing all too well that this is the last time she'll be dressing you.

You nod, holding your tongue.

You've always disliked being compared to Asmodeus—it makes you feel guilty. He was the original, the jewel of the heavens whose beauty was unrivaled in all of the Celestial sky. Your birth was exclusively to maintain the balance between the Celestial Realm and the Devildom, to give Hell its own gem to be proud of. If not for Asmodeus, no one would have needed a pearl of the abyss; it never would have been created. You would never have been created.

"M'lady?"

You blink, realizing that your maid had been calling your name.

"Sorry," You murmur, forcing another smile to your face. It's all fake, a mask you wear to hide the sheer terror within, but you maintain the facade. "Father said that I'm to leave now, right? I shouldn't waste any more time."

Your maid smiles gently, kissing your cheeks. "Tis been an honor serving you. May you find eternal peace with Lord Diavolo, m' lady."

You return the smile, curtseying lightly as your teachers have taught you. Your words are scripted, memorized long ago with all the other manners you've been taught: "Thank you. I will never forget your service."

Your goodbyes with the rest of your family are even briefer, each one of them eager to see you off. It comes from a good place in their hearts, you know. They simply wish to see you wed and happy—and who better to give you eternal happiness than the prince of the Devildom himself? But still, the laughter you force past your lips comes out choked, and you're holding back tears the entire time as you bid your family farewell, not a single one of them realizing just how desperately you don't want to leave.

Your act is convincing.

You're sure of that much, at the very least. For the past month, ever since you learned the details of this arranged marriage, you've been practicing your facial expressions in the mirror: how to hide your fear with a smile, how to mask your quivering lips with a sigh, how to stop yourself from crying with a laugh.