Serafall, oddly enough, decided to retreat first, blushing slightly, leaving, throwing out a parting remark that she was going to visit Sona. She disappeared through the magic circle, leaving behind a light mint cloud and a subtle hint of the upcoming problems. I mentally groaned. Considering what Kokabiel did at the Academy and that Sona was slightly hurt, her older sister would give me not an interrogation, but a full-fledged theater of the absurd. And my brain would be eaten with pleasure, like an appetizer.
But first... I had to solve a much more pressing problem. Grayfia stood in front of me. Her scarlet eyes were still as cold, her face a mask of icy detachment. Not a drop of emotion. Not a shadow of understanding. And this was harder than any reproaches.
I took a deep breath and stepped towards her, reaching out to touch her shoulder, but she nimbly dodged it, her eyes narrowing, and I couldn't help but flinch. I ran my hand through my long red hair and tried to compose myself.
"Grayfia, we need to talk," I said, trying to sound confident even though I was shaking inside.
She raised an eyebrow, her voice cold and slightly mocking.
"Didn't we already talk?" She crossed her arms, her tone making it clear she wasn't going to make this easy for me.
I clenched my teeth, feeling irritation mingle with guilt.
"You know what I'm talking about," I replied, my voice a little harsher than I intended.
Her lips twitched into a small, sly smile.
"Really? What do I need to know?" She tilted her head, her gaze so piercing that I felt like I was being judged. And I clearly didn't like it.
I straightened up, trying to regain some semblance of dignity. Was there any left? I hoped so.
"I admit my mistake, Grayfia. I am guilty before you. I did wrong by hiding the truth, and I want to make it right." My words were sincere, but I knew that mere admission was not enough.
Her face became thoughtful, and I mentally seized on this change.
If she was thinking, and not talking about breaking up, then not all was lost.
In the supernatural world, relationships don't fall apart as easily as they do in humans. Hundreds of years of bonding, forged through time and trials, don't break because of one mistake. A scandal? Yes. A breakup? Unlikely. But I knew I had to prove my loyalty.
Grayfia softened slightly, her eyes still stern, but there was a spark of something warm in them.
"You owe me, Sirzechs," she said, her voice softening slightly. "And it's time to start fulfilling your debts. Like... a massage. Right now."
"A massage?" I asked, raising an eyebrow slightly, clearly not expecting her to say such a thing. And looking at her, I realized that this was not a request, but an order.
Grayfia, with a slight smile, walked over to the chair and gracefully sat down, crossing her legs. Sighing internally, I stood behind her and began massaging her shoulders. Her skin was warm beneath my fingers, but she immediately said,
"Harder, Sirzechs. I can't feel your efforts at all."
My lips twitched into a smile. I pressed harder, feeling the tension in her muscles gradually recede. After a few minutes, she added without turning around,
"Now the legs."
I froze, thinking I had misheard. Her gaze, cast over her shoulder, was full of malice. She lifted her leg slightly, swinging it, and said,
"Well, what are you waiting for? They won't massage themselves, will they?"
I chuckled to myself.
Here he was, Satan, the Demon Lord, kneeling before his own wife. Yes, a great and terrible day.
The irony of the situation was almost comical. Sighing, I dropped to my knees and began massaging her leg, gently kneading each joint, running my fingers over her sole. Looking up, I noticed a subtle smile on her lips. She was clearly enjoying my "humiliation," and I couldn't help but admit that there was something… sadistically charming about it.
Time passed unnoticed, and I had already lost count of the minutes when Grayfia took her feet away. I looked at her questioningly, but without saying a word, she summoned a magic circle. From it appeared a butler's suit, which she threw at my face. I caught it, feeling my patience being tested.
"Put this on," she said, her voice calm but with a hint of amusement. "And make me some tea. And dinner too. Hurry up, Sirzechs."
I replied sarcastically, but with feigned seriousness:
"As you command, mistress." Turning around, I began to change right in front of her. Both of us had long since gone beyond the limits of embarrassment. The outfit fits tightly, emphasizing the status of... a servant.
In the butler's suit, I headed towards the kitchen, catching the stunned glances of the servants. Some dropped their trays, others almost fell, stumbling on level ground. I tried to ignore them, but their whispers burned my ears.
Satan in a butler's suit? Is this the end of the world?
I mentally rolled my eyes, but kept walking.
The kitchen was bustling with activity. The head chef, a massive man with a stern face, was intently slicing fish. His assistants stood to the side, sweating and not daring to disturb him. My footsteps echoed through the room, and the chef, losing his rhythm, shook his knife slightly. I saw his face contort with anger, and his hand squeezed the handle so hard that it cracked. He turned around, ready to launch into a tirade:
"What idiot dared distract me from important business?!" His voice thundered in anger, drool flew in all directions, and his eyes blazed madly. He was clearly ready to reprimand me, but when he met my gaze, he turned pale, as if he had seen a ghost. The knife fell from his hand, and he fell to his knees, burying his forehead in the floor. "F-forgive me, Mr. Lucifer! I have a family, a daughter! Have mercy, I beg you!"
My lips trembled, and I barely held back my laughter.
Okay, so be it, live for now.
Sighing, I said:
"Get up, I'm not offended." He raised his tear-stained face, full of relief. I continued, smiling slightly, "But if you want to atone for your "guilt", help me with one thing."
His eyes widened in confusion, but he nodded, ready for anything.
Good. Let's start small.
***
Grayfia Lucifuge watched her husband as he closed the door behind him, leaving her in the silence of the office. A heavy sigh escaped her lips, and she touched her forehead with her fingertips, shaking her head slightly.
"Idiot..." she whispered almost tenderly, "my idiot."
A thin smile appeared on her lips, but it didn't last long. This idiot was still her choice, and she had never regretted it for a second in her life, even though she sometimes wanted to give him a good smack on the head. Maybe then his brain would snap back into place? Still, the mention of Serafall cast a shadow over her thoughts. Grayfia's face furrowed, her eyes narrowed, and she felt irritation boiling up inside.
Yes, Serafall.
She sighed heavily, wincing. To be honest, Serafall's appearance at her door had angered her more than she cared to admit. Their relationship had never been warm, but rather coldly competitive, with a fine line between politeness and hidden hostility. Grayfia thought back to their first meeting at the young devils' meeting, where Sirzechs, Ajuka, Serafall, and the others were present.
Serafall had already been fluttering around Sirzechs like a moth trying to attract the sun's attention. But he... he looked differently. Yes, he was polite, friendly, but nothing more. And when his gaze accidentally crossed hers, in that moment she felt something extraordinary. His eyes caught her, as if they saw something beneath the surface. She, of course, did not show it. At that moment, her duty to be cool, perfect, worthy of the House of Lucifuge, outweighed everything. There was no room for anything else.
But she remembered. And he, as it turned out, did too.
Years later, when the situation in the Underworld had become tense, Grayfia was ordered to keep an eye on Sirzechs, to report on his actions, his hobbies, his weaknesses. And when she showed up in his chambers, introducing herself in person, he caught her by surprise... with his ordinariness. He was sitting on the couch, busily tuning the strings of some instrument, his face so serious that her cold mask almost cracked. When he noticed her, his cheeks flushed, and he cleared his throat, introducing himself with comical awkwardness. The silence that hung between them was almost tangible, and Grayfia still remembered that moment with a slight smile.
The days passed, and she watched him, studying him not as a caretaker, but as a woman who was increasingly drawn to this unusual devil. Sirzechs was not like the others: not arrogant or pompous, like most young nobles. It seemed like they were all stamped out in the same place and according to the same template, and it slightly offended her. He was awkward, sincere, and his constant glances full of embarrassment amused her. But everything changed when the civil war separated them. Grayfia found herself on the other side of the barricades, next to her brother Euclid, who burned with hatred for Sirzechs. Their fight was inevitable, and Grayfia, watching Sirzechs win, felt her heart squeeze. And saw how at the last moment when he could have destroyed her brother - he stopped.
Because of her words. Because of her gaze.
Then he hugged her right in the middle of the ashes and destruction and whispered that he loved her. She responded in kind, and from that day on, their fates were united.
But the war left scars. Sirzechs' supporters looked askance at Grayfia, not trusting her at all. Serafall stood out the most, especially not hiding her disdain, calling her "traitor", "enemy within", "puppeteer". Grayfia noticed how Serafall looked at Sirzechs - with longing, with undying hope. It angered her, but she kept her emotions under control. Their rivalry reached its peak during the duel, where Serafall, burning with determination, won. Wounded but shining, she looked at Grayfia with triumph. Clearly enjoying her victory, she saw Serafall about to turn around and look at Sirzechs, but he rushed towards her instead of Serafall. Her face was contorted in surprise and pain. Grayfia saw how hard Serafall was trying to maintain her position, and she glared at her with hatred. Her clenched fists, her gnashing teeth, the disappointment in her eyes, all of it was sweet honey for Grayfia. She lost the duel, but she won Sirzechs' heart.
Status or love? She asked herself, looking at Serafall, who was left with the title of Leviathan, but without what really mattered.
The years passed, and Grayfia enjoyed her happiness with Sirzechs. Their family, their love grew stronger with each passing century. Serafall, on the other hand, was drowning in loneliness, work, and, as Grayfia suspected, envy. Seeing her suffer brought Grayfia sadistic pleasure, although she never showed it. Their meetings remained coldly polite, but in the rare moments of privacy, the sparks of rivalry flared up again. Grayfia knew that Serafall was still trying to get closer to Sirzechs, and the thought of a possible harem caused her pain. She decided to talk to him, making it clear that she would not tolerate a division.
Venelana, Sirzechs' mother, advised her to act more subtly, to become the head of the harem, and not to cut everything off at the root. But Grayfia always took a different path. She didn't play games. She took things head-on. And won.
Because she knew her own worth.
Her possessive approach worked: Sirzechs remained loyal only to her, and every glance he cast at Venelana was her small victory.
See? I did what you couldn't do to your husband. Aren't I better?
Grayfia's pride was at its peak: everyone was whispering and saying what a great couple they were and that they only had each other. Powerful devils always had many wives, and Sirzechs, who was definitely powerful, only stuck to his wife.
Isn't it amazing? Isn't it all thanks to me?
She was definitely the winner among them all, and seeing the jealous glances the other female devils cast at her only fueled her even more.
And yet… now the situation is repeating itself again. Harem? Serafall is back again, and this time she's doing it with serious intentions, with serious feelings. And Sirzechs... didn't reject her. Not right away.
But why? Why?
Where did it go wrong? Where did the mistake occur? Didn't everything work before? So why?
Can a man's heart belong to two women? She asked herself and chuckled inwardly.
No. It shouldn't.
And yet today he stayed by her side. Today he knelt down. And today he hugged her.
I will always come first, but why?
But is that a victory?
She wasn't sure. Not now.
Serafall. She never gives up.
She couldn't help but admit that Serafall never stopped trying. Her persistence was something Grayfia could acknowledge and respect, but accept? No way. Did she really think Grayfia was blind? Didn't she see how she was reaching out to Sirzechs, how her blue eyes were shining with hope? These attempts only spurred Grayfia on. After each meeting with Serafall, she threw herself at her husband with renewed passion, leaving traces of their nights on his body - scratches, bites, marks of her love. She forbade him from using magic to heal himself quickly, and Sirzechs, looking at her with slight bewilderment, shrugged, calling it her "strange whim." Grayfia only nodded, but there was more to it. She knew that Serafall saw these marks, noticed Sirzechs' awkward attempts to hide them. Her battered, envious dog-like gaze was a sweet triumph for Grayfia. She enjoyed it, even if she didn't admit it to herself.
But everything changed with the birth of Sona and Rias. Grayfia was suddenly surprised. Their life, which had seemed stable—her rivalry with Serafall, warm nights with Sirzechs, measured days—was suddenly over. When the Gremory and Sitri houses had younger heirs, Sirzechs would put aside his business and rush to the Gremory mansion to spend time with Rias. Grayfia, though she felt a twinge of envy, quickly pushed it away. Rias was not a rival, but family. Just a little girl, nothing special. She understood that Sirzechs, tired of war and politics, found fresh air in her, a new meaning. But Serafall, busy with Sona, also found a new purpose, and their "war" died down. Grayfia was happy about this, but deep down she felt a strange emptiness. Rivalry was, oddly enough, a part of her life.
As the years went by, Grayfia noticed how Sirzechs was spending more and more time with Rias. He fussed over her like a second parent, with a love that even Zeoticus and Venelana couldn't match. Her and Sirzechs's moments in bed became rare, and this left Grayfia at a loss. For the first time, she didn't know what to do. Seeing Rias clinging to Sirzechs, laughing and joking, she felt dark thoughts creeping into her mind.
Am I losing him?
At one of those moments, Venelana's hand touched her shoulder. Grayfia shuddered, turning around and meeting her serious gaze. Venelana, as if reading her thoughts, quietly said:
"Don't think too much, Grayfia. Everything is not what it seems."
Shame burned her from the inside. She was ready to hate Rias, a child, for her innocent love for her brother. Guilt gnawed at her, but one day, Rias, giggling happily, ran up to her, fiddling with her dress and asking to play. Little hands touched her, and an innocent look asked her to play with her, to give her time. And then tears began to flow from her eyes. Grayfia resisted, but still could not stand it and took her in her arms. Rias kissed her, hugged her, warmed her with warmth and love. This little beast melted her cold, and from then on, Grayfia loved Rias like a little sister. The black thoughts no longer returned.
But now, looking at Sirzechs' care for Rias, Grayfia felt a vague uneasiness once again. Her heart was uneasy, though she couldn't explain why. The blow came from an unexpected direction - Serafall, her appearance and the revelation of her connection with Sirzechs had knocked the wind out from under her. For the first time in centuries, Grayfia felt at a loss for what to do.
What should she do? What should she do?
Her thoughts were interrupted by the sound of the door opening. Sirzechs, in his butler uniform, walked in, pushing a cart with trays of food, sweets, and tea. His upright posture, the awkward touch of his collar that was clearly choking him, his nervous gaze, and the intertwined fingers betrayed guilt and regret. Grayfia watched him, feeling her heart soften. He was willing to do anything to atone for his mistake, and that touched her. But she remembered Venelana's words from years ago. Then, after the talk about the harem, Venelana said with a smirk:
You will remember my words when the time comes.
Grayfia nodded, not taking her seriously, but now those words echoed in her head.
She took the knife and fork, gracefully cut off a piece of the meat Sirzechs had prepared, and tasted it. His gaze, full of anxiety, followed her every move. She chewed, swallowed, put the utensils down and said:
"You oversalted it."
Sirzechs turned away, closing his eyes, as if he could not bear the shame. Grayfia barely held back a smile. Exhaling, she added:
"Just kidding." His lips twitched, and the sight amused her, as always. Watching him suffer while he fulfilled her whims was a small but sweet pleasure.
But her gaze suddenly became distant, almost empty, looking somewhere into the distance. Her thoughts were spinning like a whirlwind. She loved Sirzechs, but his mistake with Serafall hurt her more deeply than she was willing to admit. Suddenly, her eyes lit up with determination. She looked at him and said,
"I forgive you, Sirzechs. But not completely."
He raised an eyebrow in surprise.
"Not completely?" he asked, his voice full of caution. "How can I... show this clearly?"
Grayfia chuckled to herself.
What a fool he was.
She leaned back in her chair, her posture relaxed, but with a slight mischief.
"What, are you just going to stand there like a pillar? Or are you going to start doing something?" she asked in a soft but challenging voice.
Sirzechs was momentarily confused, but quickly caught on. A small smile touched his lips and he replied,
"As you command, mistress."
Grayfia smiled widely, feeling her heart beat faster. Sirzechs stepped towards her, his fingers touching the hem of her uniform, and their gazes met, passionate, full of unspoken emotions. In that moment, she realized that despite the pain, despite Serafall, Sirzechs was still hers.
And she wouldn't let anyone take him away.
Venelana was right.
It was time to take matters into her own hands.