"Prince."

To that playful tone, Laharl turned his head up. His eyes met a pair of crimson and a mouth which formed a cat-like grin. He heaved a defeated sigh, knowing that he had to partook on his vassal's sudden whim of the day.

"What do you want now?"

Protests were impossible to her sharp ears, but he could at least bark toward her. His annoyed tone didn't make her flinch the slightest bit. If anything, she doubled down on her offense.

"There's a limited sale for those ice creams you love," she procured a brochure of what appeared to be a high class dessert over a jet black and volcanic red background. Her free index finger pointed straight to her point. "Plus, we'll get a massive discount if we buy it together."

From the way Etna pointed at the brochure, it was not quite clear what the terms of conditions were. As the Overlord of his own Netherworld, he had been wary of unscrupulous trickeries which demons usually pull. However, Etna wasn't the sort of demon who would get scammed so easily.

Mulling it over a few crunches of potato chips, he set his comic and snack from the sofa to the table. Then he slid from his sleeping lion posture and stood up, patting his chest and unruffling his deep-red scarf for crumbs. Positioning the bang of his blue hair and slicking back his two antennas, Laharl walked toward the exit.

"I'm down for it," he stopped to point one finger toward Etna. "Only if you're paying."

"All taken care of," a voluptuously shaped leather bag of HL was now in Etna's hand. "I'm using the Prinny Squad's unpaid overtime money anyway."

To that, Laharl raised an eyebrow.

"What are you, a demon?"

"We both have mirrors in our room, Prince," as she let her sarcasm permeate the air, Etna placed her hands on her hips and puffed out her chest. A devilish grin formed on her face. "And like an upstanding demon that I am, I have compensated our vassals well. In exchange for no overtime payment, they can use the break rooms for taking a break."

Laharl wasn't sure whether to pursue the information further.

In the end, however, curiosity got the better of him.

"How did you use their break rooms before?"

"To break out a sweat," Etna grinned from her ear to the other, following with something she thought to be less sinister. "Also to break their spirits."

"You're a horrible boss for your vassals," Laharl sighed. He crossed his arms as he waited for Etna by the throne. He scouted around for his subjects, the vassals he had inherited from his father, and continued when he saw none of them was present. "Though I guess if you do it in any other sort of way it wouldn't be you."

If any of his vassals were to see him now, they would see ham in a bashful flush.

"I knew you would understand, Prince," Etna quickly walked and stood beside Laharl. "Now let's go get us some dessert!"

"This better be worth my time."

Laharl and Etna began walking out of the throne room and onto the castle's lobby. As per usual, everything was peaceful. A small moment in time had passed and with it so did Laharl's immaturity, or what little there was out of many more, which made him a better ruler. The change wasn't something of utmost necessity, but of an honest drive for self-improvement.

What made the Prince change his attitude?

Could it be related to Sicily's absence from his Netherworld?

Might it be something about the Seraph he kept visiting every now and then?

Or was there something that his subject missed?

Would it be something that was very close to him all this time?

As Laharl observed the prying eyes which were directed at him through his instincts alone, he began to rub the back of his head and ruffled the ends of his hair. All those confused and estranged looks were always unnerving for him. It showed how low their opinions of him were in transparent display. He could really use less of them and more of looks of awe and admiration, but maybe the drastic change was just too severe and it backfired.

Etna's pairs of crimson peeked at Laharl's furrowed face.

"Now that's an expression I didn't expect from you," Etna said as she stood before the dimensional gate. Her destination could wait for now. Especially when she focused her sight at Laharl. "Still can't get used to being a competent overlord?"

While he retained his silence, she was given a nod.

To his sore expression, Etna gave him a tender smile.

"Cheer up, Laharl," she rested her cheek against her palm. "From where I'm seeing you right now, I have nothing but respect for you. You're walking the road your old man-King Krichevskoy-had walked before."

Laharl's expression softened.

"I guess I do need something sweet to cheer me up."

Responding to that, Etna showed him her brightest and cat-like grin.

"You mean the dessert, right Prince?"

Laharl was silent, but a brighter expression was present on his face. He wasn't going to tell her, much less acknowledge her leading question. He grabbed Etna by her hand, which made her chuckle, and entered the dimensional gate together."

The dimensional gate keeper smirked as she watched it all unfold.