Luciana stood with quiet poise, surveying the gathered servants as she prepared to address them. Her introduction was brief and to the point.
"It is a pleasure to meet you all. My name is Luciana Mircea Stygian, wife of Lord Stygian. From today onward, I will be in your care."
She kept her words measured, avoiding any mention of her forced circumstances. Revealing that she was a princess abducted by their lord would serve no purpose other than to widen the gulf between them. Instead, she offered a polite smile.
"My son is not with me at the moment, but I ask that you extend the same care to him."
She exhaled softly, suppressing the unease settling in her chest. Perhaps I should have brought Nemesis with me. His presence is a comfort...
One by one, the servants introduced themselves, their responses mostly restrained and devoid of warmth. Luciana quickly took note of their subdued demeanor. Many among them were low-ranking demons or hybrids—part-human, part-demon. Their appearances hinted at their mixed heritage, yet their expressions told a more compelling story: they were wary. Perhaps it was the weight of their circumstances or the natural tension of serving a woman from an enemy empire.
The fortress was maintained by only a handful of workers, many of whom appeared to be families laboring together to sustain their livelihood. One figure stood out among them—a broad-shouldered man with a commanding presence. His dark skin was marked with streaks of silver in his thick black hair, and a neat mustache sat like an inked line above his lips. Despite his imposing stature, his voice was the first to break the quiet formality.
"Your command is as my master's, my lady!" the cook bellowed, bowing deeply.
Luciana barely concealed her surprise at his enthusiasm, though the other servants seemed unfazed.
"Did my lady enjoy the meal? I took great care in its preparation! And what of the young master? Is he eating well? If there is anything that does not suit your taste, please, you must let me know at once!"
A flurry of questions bombarded her, each one spilling into the next before she could form a reply. Panic flickered in her eyes as she tried to process his rapid speech.
"Ah—uh—" she stammered, struggling to decide which concern to address first.
A voice intervened before she could attempt an answer.
"Zehel, you're overwhelming Madame," Blake remarked dryly.
The cook immediately straightened, looking stricken by his mistake.
"My deepest apologies, my lady! I did not mean to trouble you. I only wished to ensure your well-being—and that of the young master! When my lord informed me of your weakened state, I—"
Luciana raised a hand gently, silencing his frantic explanation.
"There is no need to apologize," she assured him with a small smile. "I am grateful for your concern."
The sincerity in her voice seemed to take him aback.
"Oh no, my lady! It is our duty to ensure your comfort!"
"Then I will place my trust in you," she said graciously.
Blake gave a slight nod at the smooth resolution. "That concludes the introductions. Would you like to meet the guards and soldiers next, my lady?"
Luciana hesitated. "My husband is not present, and…" She cast a glance at the dispersing servants.
"His aide has accompanied him for negotiations," Blake explained. "Master has a habit of, ah… struggling with diplomacy. If the opposing lords prove difficult, he simply resorts to intimidation, often ending negotiations prematurely."
Luciana stiffened. That man… does he solve everything with brute force?
"I see," she murmured. "In that case, I would prefer a brief tour of the servants' quarters instead."
Blake frowned. "Why visit such a modest part of the fortress, my lady?"
"Because the well-being of the household staff is the responsibility of those in charge," she answered simply. "If I am to live here, I should understand their conditions."
He studied her for a moment before relenting. "Very well."
As they walked, he spoke intermittently, filling the silence with idle conversation. Luciana, however, remained observant, keenly absorbing the details of her surroundings.
"I must admit, my lady, I was relieved when my lord finally married," Blake remarked. "He sent proposals to various noble houses, but every single one was rejected."
Luciana raised an eyebrow. "Truly?"
Blake nodded. "There was one particularly ambitious noble—a man of low rank—who sought to marry his daughter to the master. At the time, I was managing affairs in Jafar's absence, and it was clear the noble had no interest in marriage. He only wanted control over Stygian territory and the army my lord has trained." He scoffed. "And his daughter… Well, let's just say she inherited both his greed and his unfortunate looks."
Realizing he had spoken too freely, he coughed into his fist. "Forgive my bluntness, my lady."
Luciana shook her head. "It is no offense. You were merely looking out for him."
Blake grinned. "Precisely! My lady, don't you think my lord is far too good even for himself?"
She blinked at him, confused. "Pardon?"
He stopped before a large wooden door reinforced with thick metal bolts. "I mean that he has no awareness of his own appeal. Compared to most demons, his looks are striking. I always thought it would be a waste if he didn't secure a proper wife. He's a muscle-brained fool, the type who would marry purely for political gain rather than companionship."
Luciana's lips pressed into a thin line. More than being 'muscle-brained,' he abducted me. And is that all marriage is to him? A mere transaction?
"Would he not care for his wife at all?" she asked quietly.
Blake shrugged. "He wouldn't. That's simply the way he is."
Something in Luciana's chest tightened at the bluntness of his response.
"But…" Blake continued, a thoughtful note in his voice, "I must admit, he's changed. He's taking his responsibilities more seriously. Before, he didn't care whether negotiations succeeded or not. But this time… he seems determined to ensure things go smoothly."
Luciana lowered her gaze, swallowing the bitter weight of her thoughts.
I only wish he could confide in me.