"What do you think, Octavia?" Stolas said, pointing out to the water in front of them.

Her father had taken them to the front of the ship, just below the crow's nest, in what appeared to be an effort to either cheer her up, or to get her out of the cabin.

"It's alright…" she muttered, refusing to look him in the eye. She didn't exactly feel like talking, especially with so much on her mind.

But she didn't dare open her mouth, wanting to wait for a more private moment before asking her father about the suited stranger. The man could be right behind them for all she knew, and the last thing she wanted was for something to happen, now eyeing her father with worry, still avoiding his eyes.

The two of them had always had a rocky relationship, although it was more out of distaste for her mother than it was than because of dad.. She hoped that Stella would keep her distance, because even her very presence could bring on another episode, and Stolas had been through enough. She had been through enough. Being with her own family was a literal hell.

Every morning mom would blow up at dad, whether it be for something petty or legitimate. He had to be weary about how loud he snored, or how straight his shoulders were, or how much time he spent with Octavia. And from what dad had told her, father-daughter time was non-negotiable.

"You need to lay the fuck off!" Stella had screamed at him upon finding out about the trip, "Just gonna sail away without me? She's just as much my daughter as she is yours!"

Octavia regretted listening in on that conversation, but had to listen in for more. She was frozen in fear and fascination.

"If that were true, then you would've been there for her when she needed it!" Stolas blew up, "Which one of us did she call for when she had nightmares? Who was the one that calmed her down when she felt alone because her mother was always screaming at her? Which of us has been working day and night to make sure she comes home to a warm house and family!"

"Please, like you care about this family. If you truly cared, you wouldn't have slept with that filthy fucking imp! Do you know what that would do to our reputation?" Her face contorted to form a look of pure hatred, staring daggers into Stolas's eyes. She looked ready to kill, and given how their past fights had gone, it wouldn't be surprising if one day she snapped and resorted to murder. Both of them were at their breaking points, bent-up tensions finally exploding into a fireshow of scrimmaging emotions.

"If I cared about this family, I would've left you to the filth on the streets! But satan-forbid royals ever get divorced! You are the reason that our daughter would rather hide in her room all day! You were the one that constantly berated and shamed her! She's seventeen! If you have a problem, settle it with me, don't take it out on the damn child!" She saw Stolas's eyes narrow and turned a dark shade of red, his veins pulsing with anger as she snuck into the room they were fighting in, not able to take it anymore.

"Will you two just shut up!" Octavia had shouted, her voice quivering violently.

The two of them paused and stared back at her, Stella speaking up first.

"Go away," her mother scoffed, "Your father and I are settling something right now."

Her father's eyes grew even redder, and she already regretted stepping in, not sure if she was emotionally prepared to deal with the incoming shitstorm. All she wanted was to go back into her room and listen to her music, and to shut the curtains and disappear, away from whatever the hell was contained within the walls of her mansion-like prison.

Octavia put her face into her hands and stomped away, slamming a door at the end of the hall, causing a vase to shatter. Her mother wasn't about to see her cry, not like this. Mom didn't like it when she cried, and everybody knew it. Apparently she was "too emotional for a future queen" or some bullshit like that.

Footsteps echoed from behind her as Stolas stormed away from Stella to chase after her, shouting out to his wife on his way out, "You don't deserve hell. It's too good for you."

She tuned out the incoherent yelling coming from her mother as her father shut the door and attempted to comfort her, taking her out of the mansion and to his island house one ring down. If there had been any uncertainty about going on the ship, it had just been shot down and trampled.

Octavia had slept in her father's room that night, not caring about how childish and infantile it felt. Even though she was trying to hide it, she knew Stolas could hear her silently sobbing into her pillow. He gently stroked her hair, not going on some obscenity-laced rant like her mother would have. He even sang his signature lullaby that had soothed her when she was an owlet, keeping his voice soft.

"As the stars start to align…"

"I hope you take it as a sign…"

"That you will be okay…."

"Everything will be okay…"

Perhaps it was nostalgia, or just the fatherly sense of comfort it provided, but even years later, the song still worked to calm her down, her sobbing slowly being replaced by reminiscent sighs. Despite the fact that she had refused to speak that night, she hoped her father knew that he had been able to help. If only for a night.

That night, for the first time in a long time, she felt truly safe and protected, away from her terrible mother and the fighting that she caused. She knew her father was no saint, having his affair and all, but he was leagues ahead of his wife in terms of parental morality and love.

Now, facing the sea and smelling the familiar aroma of salt, she slipped on a pair of headphones and ignored the world around her, listening to whatever came up first in her playlist.

"Via, please," Stolas said apologetically as he took her headphones and placed them in his pocket, trying to divert her attention to the rare sight before them, "Look around! You might never get this chance again!"

"I already did," she responded, deadpan, "It's very….dark."

She grumbled under her breath and moved towards the tip of the bow, Stolas running over to ensure that she didn't somehow slip over the edge of the railing.

"Careful!" he shouted, trying to guide her away from the edge, "Don't get too close. I don't want to have to fish you out of there!"

"Dad…." She sighed, slumping her shoulders and sitting down on the polished wood of the deck, the ocean breeze blowing in their faces, "I…" her voice trailed off.

Noticing her lack of enthusiasm, Stolas desperately eyed the ship for something that might animate her again. Perhaps he could take her to the ship's pool, or maybe they could go tour the cabins. Looking towards the bridge, he considered bringing her back to the grand staircase. That was, until something caught his eye.

A tall demon with a dark suit and cane walked across the bridge and disappeared into one of the deckhouses. Something about the way he walked, the presence he carried, seemed oddly familiar.

And that's when he made the connection.

His eyes must've been playing tricks on him. There's no way it was him.

But then the figure reemerged, meandering across the decks and into the grand staircase. And he knew this time that what he was seeing was not a mirage.

Monte. Monte Heish.

Monte and Stolas had a rocky path, both being nobles and having to compete to keep their power. At one point, they had a barely professional relationship, but that was the closest they had ever gotten, even back then being filled with resentment and bitterness towards each other.

Stolas suspected that Monte had hated him because of their constant battle for money. They were constantly in a competition to keep their title as the wealthiest demon in the pride ring, the numbers fluctuating greatly each day, their names dosey-doeing around the top spot.

Stolas was at the top more often than not, although from time-to-time the position would be stolen from him. Tensions had been escalating as the people of the pride ring watched the ever-changing numbers with anticipation, placing bets on who would remain number one.

For a while, it looked as if Stolas would lose his title. That was, until he uncovered a detail while looking into his financial information through some not-so-legal snooping. And once he figured it out, it went straight to the press.

Mr. Heish prided himself on his many estates, and all the money he would gain, whether it was through production, sales, or something else. He had thousands of workers and financial guides at the tips of his finger. At one point, almost every billboard and building in hell had the "Heish" name plastered all over it.

It turned out that the largest estate that Monte had claimed to own and be profiting from didn't exist. He had claimed that over one-hundred million dollars had been made from work at the property, which hadn't been the case. Once word got out, not only did he lose the title as the wealthiest person in the pride ring, but he lost his noble status entirely, and had his name tarnished, forever gaining a reputation as a fraud.

Ever since, whenever Monte spoke, it was threatening Stolas, vowing that one day he would seek revenge for his losses. And the man had posed a serious safety threat. One time, he had even sent a batch of criminals to try and burn down his mansion while Stolas and his family were still inside. It's why he was hesitant to let Octavia go off on her own, since they had a man out for their heads. It's also why he had recruited Blitzo and his employees to be his guards whenever they went out in public, and was part of the reason he had invited them on the ship with him, although he never imagined in a million years that Monte would be on the ship with him.

Which raised another question: Did Monte know that Stolas was onboard? If not, then he could make efforts to hide and avoid detection. The last thing he wanted was some sort of brawl breaking out between them, especially in front of Octavia. Stolas's business was his business, and he would not allow his daughter to get dragged into his personal issues. It had already happened once, and if he could prevent it from happening again, he would.

"Dad," Octavia asked, "Why are you staring?"
He realized that his eyes had been glued to the figure for an uncomfortable amount of time, and he averted his gaze back to his daughter, thankful that she was at least talking to him.

"Oh, nothing." Stolas said blankly, not wishing for her to know about what he had seen. Yes, he had told her about his feud with Monte after they had tried to burn the house down, but the last thing she needed was to know that he was aboard their vessel. He would just make sure to keep himself or Blitzo or one of the other employees near her at all times. She deserved to enjoy the trip.

Who knows, maybe he was on the ship by pure coincidence? Stranger things had happened before.

For the moment, he decided to shove the negative thoughts to the back of his mind and focus on them later if he needed to. Right now, his top priority was Octavia's happiness, and he didn't want anything getting in the way of that.

He motioned for Octavia to follow him up a flight of stairs, which led up the decks and to the starboard side of the ship. She begrudgingly obliged, and shuffled slowly up the steps, creeping along at a deliberate pace.

Stolas emerged first, waving at a passing officer wearing a dark blue jacket. Octavia stared back blankly, her eyes skimming the floor.

They strolled along the deckhouses, peering in through windows and observing the activity inside. The one thing Stolas disliked about being aboard a vessel filled with wealthy nobles was the lack of stimulation and exhilaration. All of their time was spent enthralled with petty matters, never leaving the comfort of their own circles. Their prudish attitudes irritated him, especially when he was with Blitzo. It was bad enough that if word of his affair reached the rest of the higher-ups, his reputation would be destroyed. And Stella already despised him for having relations with an imp, and he couldn't imagine the rest of the nobility showing any more compassion than she did. Not only that, Octavia's name would be dragged through the dirt for simply being affiliated with him. "Damnation by association," some might call it.

Octavia tugged at his shirt and pointed towards the rear of the ship.

"Dad," she nearly whispered, the slightest hint of fear in her voice, :"Look."

Stolas turned to face Octavia's gaze, and spotted a figure walking their way. They wore a crown and a large dress, candlelight reflecting off of the expensive stones engraved in the sides. And when he realized who he was looking at, his heart sank into his boots.

Stella.

He fidgeted desperately and looked for a room to duck away into, stepping out in front of Octavia to obscure him from her view. Stolas threw open the doorway towards the grand staircase and shoved her inside, following quickly behind. He was not in the mood to squabble with his wife, not today.

"Via, we're leaving-" he started.

A chill went up his spine as he heard Stella's voice call out, bringing a feeling of great unease.

"Well, look who it is!" Stella scoffed, tapping Stolas on the shoulder, "Trying to turn her against me?" She pointed angrily at Octavia with a crossed countenance.

Stolas sighed heavily, "No. I'm not going to do this again." He pushed Octavia further into the room as Stella towered over them, her eyes burning with a crimson hue. "Not in front of her."

Octavia stared back at Stolas with nervous eyes, the same ones that she had looked at him with when waking up from a nightmare, calling his name out in the empty house.

This time, however, this wasn't simply a nightmare that could be disrupted and dismantled by the sound of an alarm clock. Despite how much he wanted to make this easier for her, the solution was realms away. And the demoralizing guilt of knowing that he couldn't fix it only beat him down more and more.

" You're not going to do this?" Stella suddenly screamed, drawing the attention of the surrounding passengers, frozen by fear and fascination, "You don't deserve any sympathy from me!"

"Mom…" Octavia muttered, becoming visibly overwhelmed by the increasing friction of the conversation. They all knew that things were only a few seconds away from getting physical.

But there was nothing that he could do.

"Shut up!" Stella hissed, bending down and staring daggers into her eyes as she yelled, her horrid breath filling Octavia's nostrils.

Even though the two of them had been anticipating it, he could tell the words managed to drag down her heart, her body freezing up and her eyes blank. He could see tears pooling in her eyes, and stood stoically as his wife's berating continued.

"You're my daughter!" Stella screamed, "Why would you abandon me like this? Your father has had enough time with you. Why would you leave a sad, old woman to slowly waste away as her husband and daughter ran off, leaving her for the hellhounds!" Her eyes dropped, begging for sympathy, "Does he give you money? Does he give in to your every demand? A parent shouldn't have to buy her child's love! Why would you do this to me?"

Stolas's heart burned with hatred and bloodlust as the words flew out of her mouth. Why would she bring Octavia into this? It wasn't her fault that her mother did nothing but berate and slander, and the fact that she was trying to guilt her into coming back only made his heart harden. Not towards Octavia, but towards his wife, if she even deserved to be acknowledged. People like her were the reason a place like hell had to exist in the first place, and it would please him greatly to see her receive the treatment that sinners were forced to endure.

His gaze floated back over to Octavia, who was visibly distraught, trying to conceal the tears pooling in her eyes. He gave her credit for somehow managing to maintain her composure, even as her mother guilted her and yelled obscenities.

"Shut up!" Stolas yelled, the words coming out of his mouth before he had time to process the effect of his words, putting his arm between Octavia and Stella. He wouldn't allow his deadbeat wife to harass his daughter any longer, especially in the presence of so many people.

All eyes were on them, frozen in place with hanging jaws. Oh, how he wished for his knight in shining armor to show up and get them out of here; away from all of the attention and defaming.

Horrible, painful silence hung in between them, Octavia's shallow breaths seeming to echo throughout the chamber. The only thing worse than flaring tempers was resentful muteness, especially when both parties wanted the other gone. Stolas would never say it out loud, nor did he intend to inflict any harm onto Stella, but if she died suddenly and unexpectedly, no tears would be shed by him.

She bawled her hand into a fist, the same hand that bore her sharp wedding ring. Swinging with all of her strength, she socked Stolas in the face, making sure to dig the stone into his face, dragging it down slowly and painfully.

"Mom!" Octavia shouted, her voice suddenly shrill, "Stop it!"

Stella laughed maniacally, "There! How do you like me now?!"

There was uproar in the crowd, and she stormed away, kicking Octavia with the jagged point of her boot.

He stood, frozen and burning with rage as his daughter clutched her knee. His face burned, a warm feeling trickling down his cheek. Brushing his hand along the side of his temples, they came back streaked in black blood.

Bystanders rushed to their aid, some shoving past them and trying to chase after Stella, screaming at her as she locked herself in an elevator and descended, the steward cowering in fear behind her.

"Via!" Stolas called out, pushing through the crowd. A man wearing a maroon tuxedo handed him a handkerchief to help with the bleeding, Stolas putting aside his pride and accepting it, holding the soft fabric up to his stinging face.

He knelt down before her, a look of horror in his daughter's face as she gasped and pointed to the messy gash on his cheek, blood already having soaked through the makeshift bandage.

"Dad!" she screamed, "Your face-!"

"I know, I know," he responded, licking blood off of his lips, "Enough about me, I'm fine. What I'm worried about is-"

"You're not okay," Octavia weakly stood up, her voice cracking, "None of this is okay!"

She bent down suddenly on her right knee, nearly losing her balance as blood began to pool on the wound.

Stella would pay for the pain that she had inflicted on her. Nobody would treat Octavia like this and get away with it, and it only made him more angry to think of the woman he had once considered family, unleashing her anger upon them and walking away as if she had done nothing wrong.

Stolas picked her up and carried her down the stairs towards her cabin, strangers offering assistance. For a bunch of stuck-up snobs, their generosity sure seemed to show itself well when a royal got hurt. One woman handed them a special herb that she said would help the pain subside, and another one gave Stolas a damp cloth to help clean off his face. Stolas quickly thanked them before taking an elevator down to the lower decks towards their cabin.

His heart raced as he constantly checked on her, even though her injuries were far from severe. Her expression was dispassionate, and whether it was from shock or anger, he didn't know.

"You can let me down, now." Octavia said once they had arrived outside the cabin, "I...I think I'll be alright."

Stolas obediently released her from his grip, realizing now that she was no longer the owlet that he had carried through the mansion on stormy nights. He had picked her up out of reflex; father's intuition coming to his aid.

She sauntered over to the door and cracked it open, careful not to stain the expensive materials with blood. The two of them walked into the bathroom and turned on the lights, catching their horrid reflections in the mirror.

Stolas turned on the sink and covered his face with water, the cold substance feeling fresh on his blood-encrusted face. The bleeding hadn't stopped yet, but the clotting process had begun. The scar stretched from his right temple all the way down to the left side of his upper lip, narrowly avoiding his eyes.

"How bad is it?" Stolas asked, looking to Octavia for a second opinion. To him, the scar appeared miniscule, which may have been because he had envisioned something far worse on the way up.

"It's not pretty.." Octavia said, looking back down at her leg and wrapping a cloth around it before standing back up.

Stolas was furious. How could she do such a thing to her own daughter? Taking out her anger on an innocent soul who hadn't done anything wrong was a new low that Stolas didn't think she could sink to.

He wanted to ask her about what happened, but knew that doing that would most likely unleash a wave of emotion that the two of them would be unable to handle. Instead, he sat her down on his bed and they remained still, processing the recent events. To Stolas, it felt like a bad dream. A part of him didn't want to believe it had truly happened; that his own wife had dared to sink as low as to physically assault them.

"I want to go home..." Octavia whispered, clearly distraught.

"I do too, " Stolas said, "But we can't do that right now."

There was a long pause, the two of them awkwardly staring into space.

"Dad, something happened earlier while you were unpacking," Octavia spoke slowly, "I think you need to hear this."

Worry gripped his heart, "Are you okay? What happened?"

She slumped back down and threw her head into a pillow, breathing heavily. Now his mind was spinning as he waited for his daughter to speak, millions of possibilities running through his head.

They were on the ship of dreams, but trapped in a nightmare.

Stella stormed angrily down the hall, blood stained onto her ring and dress. Other passengers passed by her and looked in disgust, to which she responded by hissing at them and waving her fist.

She opened the door to the cabin that she had been told to meet her at.

"Open up!" She hissed, banging on the door.

A reptilian demon with red eyes and dark clothes greeted her, a face that she recognized from her previous negotiations.

Monte Heish.

"Welcome!" He said, playful but also condescending, eyes scanning the blood stains on her dress, "What happened?"

Monte opened the door and let her inside, shutting it after looking for any potential eavesdroppers. They were preparing to discuss private affairs, and any outsiders listening in could potentially get them in trouble.

"Care to explain?" He asked, pointing to the blood stains on her dress.

"Stolas and I had...an altercation." she said, unable to hide her disgust while saying his name.

"Looks like it was a bit more than an 'altercation'" He laughed, laying down a stack of papers.

The pages were aged, the ink running and the material itself turning an ugly, faded shade of yellow. They appeared to be some sort of list, a series of names circled in red. There were hundreds of names printed on each sheet, various notes scattered about the page, written in handwriting that she couldn't decipher without straining her vision.

"What's this?" Stella asked, holding one of the papers in her hand, the material bending and folding by its own accord, the fragility of the records becoming apparent.

"This is a list of every passenger we have on the ship," Monte said, "You should recognize at least one of them."

"You really need to work on your handwriting. It looks like a damn seismograph."

Stella squinted and skimmed the names, the print finally coming into focus. It took a few seconds, but she managed to steadily go down the list until she found one that caught her eye. The first name in red was a name that would ever inspire hatred in her withered heart.

Stolas Goetia.

She scanned the list for other names, finding more that Monte had circled and made notes on. Octavia's name was on the list, as well as Blitzo's, her husband's not-so-secret lover. The man that had single handedly destroyed their marriage, and an imp nonetheless! He had chosen to sleep with the lowest scum of society instead of her! Simply envisioning his face revived the raw sensation of hate and loathing.

A few other names that were circled were unfamiliar. "Moxxie", "Loona", and "Millie" were all foreign to her.

"Who are they ?" She asked, pointing to the unfamiliar names.

Monte took the paper and read his notes, and smiled devilishly.

"Pawns in our little chess game, my dear," he said slyly, "They all work under the command of the imp you want dead., some dumbass assassination company from what I've gathered."

Stella crossed her arms with satisfaction, "I want them all dead. You've done your research, haven't you?"

"Of course."

He slid a file over to her, filled with pictures and records of the other IMP employees and their ties to Blitzo and Stolas. Two of them appeared to be married, while the hellhound seemed to be a family member of Blitzo's. Other photographs showed them holding weapons and returning from what appeared to be some sort of portal, covered in blood.

"They're all very loyal to their boss," Monte continued, pacing back and forth with his hands behind his back, "It would be a crying shame if anything happened to them…" He laughed satanically, sharp teeth making his smile even more intimidating.

"What are you suggesting?" Stella asked, curious.

"Well, the reason I requested your assistance is because we both share a hatred for that horny owl fuckwit," Monte tensed his fingers as the words flew out, before finally restraining himself again, "And you know more about him than anything else. Who better to assist in killing him and his lover than somebody straight from the belly of the beast?"

Stella's heart jumped at the very prospect of murder. Stolas and his lackeys would get the chastening they deserved. She felt like a tiger stalking its prey; waiting for the perfect time to strike and kill, planning with the utmost precision.

Did her lust for blood make her a monster? Perhaps. But she'd rather die standing than live kneeling, and Stolas had stolen enough from her. He had manipulated her own daughter and snatched her from out of her own arms! If anybody onboard this ship deserved to die, it was him.

"Tell me more…" she said, resting her chin on her hand and watching him with utmost interest. Now that she knew what he had summoned her for, work could begin, and by the time this voyage was over, she would emerge a free widow, daughter by her side.

"I had an idea in mind," he said, removing his pistol from his coat pocket and admiring it in the light with reverence, "But I'd like to run it by you first."

"Go on…" she drummed her fingers against the wall.

"I know for a fact that your deadbeat husband is bringing his precious grimoire. And I'd bet I know where he's keeping it too."

"You devil."

"I've been following our 'friends' all day," He flicked his tongue, "Stolas is keeping it in a safe underneath his bed. I say we start small and snatch their precious book. They'll come crying to us in no time!"

"And if they don't?"

Monte let out a deep laugh, "They'll certainly come if we snatch the weak ones up." He circled one of the names on the paper for a second time, "Could weasel information out of them, too. It's a win-win, really."

"I spoke to a couple of them today," He rapped his cane, "Quite the characters, they are. One of them was your daughter."

"What about the others?" Stella asked.

"One of the smaller employees, scared little fella. He looked like a damn twig, so thin and easily broken. Now I regret not killing him myself."

"We still have nine days left, we could easily make it happen."

The clock mounted on the wall chimed at the top of the hour, the hour hand exactly on the nine.

"My husband and I always ate dinner at nine," Stella said, "Perhaps we could pay them a visit…"
"I'll check it out, you stay out of sight. I think you two have had enough time together." Monte grinned.

He opened the door, and stepped out into the hall, disappearing from sight while huffing a cigar.

You had your chance, Stolas. Now it's my turn to play.