Stella was lying upon a crimson couch. The room was dimly lit. A small fan was running in the corner. Every time it oscillated, a wind chime jingled a random melody.

She twiddled her thumbs. "Promise you won't tell anyone?"

An imp wearing a cravat sat nearby, scribbling on a sketchpad. "Nothing leaves this room, Your Highness."

"Alright, so I have visions of another life." Stella glanced to her right. "One that's watched parts of this life. But the pieces were all slightly out of place. Things I never said were spoken from my mouth. Things that never happened, did."

"Oh, this should be good." A finger was licked, and a page was turned.

"I mean, sure. My marriage didn't start so hot, but I never felt outright hostile as this bizarre vision of myself. She kept attacking the nuances of his actions rather than the act itself. And the worst part is, even after years of never resembling those visions, I'm worried that I could easily become that vision."

"Mm-hmm." The pencil continued its strokes.

Stella sighed. "I probably sound like one of those asylum patients."

"Do you truly believe you're insane?" A red tail tapped against the back of the seat.

"Not really." Stella shook her head. "But then, most insanity victims don't realize how out of their minds they really are."

"If it makes you feel any better, your story doesn't even crack the top fifty crazy tales I've heard this month."

Stella opened her eyes wide. "Really?"

"I can't give names, for confidentiality reasons." Yellow glowing spots didn't even flinch. "But I have heard a lot of cracked up crumbs. One of them roleplays with dog treats." The spots briefly vanished before opening again. "Your visions of a warped reality? Pretty normal in comparison."

"Heh." Stella lifted her head. "Well, thank you for that. I feel marginally better."

"Do you still want to meet again in two weeks?"

"Absolutely."

…

After Stella had left, the therapist locked up the office for the evening. A shadowy figure loomed over their head.

"How is my sister doing?"

The therapist deadpanned and crossed their arms. "I keep telling you, Marquis. Client information is confidential."

"Oh, drop the legal-speak. Anything can have a price."

The therapist rolled their eyes. "$200 million upfront. No checks, no credit cards, no refunds."

The marquis took a step back and held his chest. "What?! That's $100 million more than you said last time!"

"Well, the rate is up, because you ticked me off."

He glowered at the imp. "I could literally end you. You know."

"And I don't give a **."

After a moment of intense staring, the marquis turned on his heel. "I'll have the briefcase sent to you by next week."

"Happy to be of service, milord." The imp bowed and walked away.

The marquis took a deep breath and exhaled. "Let it go, Andrealphus. You have s** to do."

(Three weeks later…)

Every so often, the Deadly Sins of The Seven Circles would remind its denizens who was in charge. This was done by reforming existing regulations and code of conduct. In practice, this usually amounted to one word change or adding an apostrophe in an arbitrary place. It gave the royalty that served underneath them an excuse to meet up and throw a party if they desired.

This was the reason Prince Stolas and his immediate family were called to attend a soiree. He and Stella had on their typical attire for formal events. Octavia, however, had to put on a dress with brighter whites and reds. Even though her beak was forced into a small smile, her eyes were devoid of any light.

"If anyone says I look pretty, I am going to murder them." The owlet clenched her fists.

Stella glanced at her. "Wait until after the party, when everyone is drunk."

"Fine." Octavia uncurled her fingers.

"Ladies and gentlemen, we welcome to the gathering Prince Stolas of the Ars Goetia, he who studies the stars and prophecies of the living world!"

He quietly bowed before stepping inside the ballroom. A few of the nobles waved at him. Others chuckled quietly.

"Accompanying him is his beloved Princess Stella, and their heiress Octavia!"

Both of them curtsied. A few of the attendees commented on their beauty. They may have felt the younger bird's eyes zoom in on their positions. Then again, it may have been their imagination.

…

The Goetia had gravitated towards separate circles to chat. At first, the other attendees were content to fill the air with the sounds of their own voices. However, they started pressing on more personal matters.

"How is your love life, Stolas?"

He finished a swish of wine before answering, "Oh, it's going swimmingly."

…

"Are you sure, Stella? There's been a rumor creeping up. Surely, you've heard of it."

"What rumor would that be?" She crunched a bite of a skewered scorpion.

…

"That your father has a proclivity for an imp."

Octavia's fake smile slipped. "What."

…

"Having a mistress or concubine is commonplace enough. But to have an affair with a lowly imp? There's just no way that can be true! Is there?"

"No comment." The three of them somehow replied in unison.

…

Andre tapped a shoulder. "May I have a word with you?"

Stella nodded, stood up, and followed. The siblings strolled past a blood fountain and the outside of a garden maze. She gazed up at the cloud cover. When she accidentally bumped into him, she backpedaled with a quick apology.

"Stella, could you show me your true form?" asked the peacock.

"Whatever for?" Stella blinked twice. "You've seen it plenty of times, big brother."

"Just humor me for a moment." He faced her directly.

"Er, alright." She shrugged.

All demon royalty had a true form. To mere mortals, these forms were incomprehensible and terrified even the self-proclaimed, soulless individuals. While often triggered by extreme emotions, the form could also be revealed through concentration. But it took a considerable level of energy to maintain for extended periods of time.

Stella took a deep breath. Her entire body encased itself with shadows. Her eyes glowed bright red. A second mouth filled with fangs opened underneath her beak. Her arms turned into a beast's wings. Each of her tail feathers expanded, gaining an eye that pierced through the darkness.

Andre put a hand on his hip. "Do you feel like a true demon, sister?"

"About as much as usual." Stella spoke in multiple pitched voices.

"So, you're not the least bit human?"

The shadows raced back underneath her skin. Her plain white feathers, pink beak, and formal attire returned to their original places. She tilted her head.

"Human?" Stella chuckled. "Andre, where did that come from?"

"It's a yes or no question." He crossed his arms.

"Well, then it's yes." She held out one hand and wiggled each individual nail. "All signs point to me being a natural hellborn. Now, what's this about?"

He sighed and ran a hand through his feathers. "I just worry about you sometimes. It's only natural." He walked up next to her. "You know you can talk to me about anything that's bothering you, right?"

"Yes, of course." She hugged him.

He pushed her about five feet away. "Even if an imp distracts your husband from his purpose?"

She gasped. "Where did you hear that? Who were you talking to?"

"Does it matter?" He glared. "If you can't find peace in his palace, maybe it's time for you and your daughter to return home."

Stella's surprise shifted into disgust. "Now just a minute! It is not your place to decide where and how we live." She poked him in the chest. "Stolas and I are well past the age of young adult life and our daughter is nearly starting hers. We'll continue to do our jobs loyally as part of the family. But outside of that, we can bloody well make our own choices!"

"As if you could ever control your own temper without my help!" Andrealphus swatted Stella's hand away. "With mother and father gone most of the day, I had to pick up the slack and raise you personally. You'd be nothing without me!"

Stella took a breath and adjusted her feathers. "I grew up after a while. Perhaps you should have done the same." She walked toward the castle and looked back. "Goodbye, brother. I do hope our next meeting is more pleasant."

After his sister was out of sight, Andrealphus massaged his wrist. "That **ng owl has poisoned her mind!"

…

Stolas and his household got into a car. Walter drove.

"How many casualties tonight?" Stella asked, half-jokingly.

Octavia groaned. "Just my mood."

Stolas sighed. "Yes, that review party was more draining than last year's."

Octavia pulled out her earbuds and tapped her phone. Each parent found a bottle of wine from the under-seat coolers. The rest of the ride was quiet, aside from gulps and random bass drops.