Stella slinked into the main hall of the manor, facing a wall of dread that took all the stride out of her step. As she roamed the room, she passed by the countless antiques and expensive tapestries of her parents' manor: Her old home.
She hadn't returned to the manor since she had moved out nearly two decades ago, yet it all felt so familiar. The same floorboards creaked when stepped on, each a reminder of days long gone. She walked past several gashes in the wallpaper which had never been repaired, left from fights between mum, dad and herself. It was as if the house itself bore scars.
As she walked through the room, one painting caught her attention. It was a large, custom commissioned portrait of herself and her brother Andrealphus as children, side by side with their parents behind them, hands on their shoulders. Nobody looked happy. And that painting was the day after Stella's wedding day.
Stella smiled at how indifferent and above it all her brother looked, as usual. The two could always bond over how much they despised their parents. Andrealphus always had her best interests in mind.
Always.
"A lovely painting, isn't it?"
Stella needed not turn around to recognize that deep voice, or the regal tone it carried. "Hmph. It's simply horrendous, Andy," Stella groaned. The ridiculous attire their parents used to make them don could only be described as prehistoric. The silly frills and stockings were 200 years out of style!
The icy blue peacock demon sidled up next to her, admiring the painting for himself. "Lo, but that's what makes it so charming, Stella. It's an artistic depiction of how out of touch our parents are." Andrealphus said, resting his chin on his fist in a contemplative manner.
Stella glanced to her side, noticing something different about his usual appearance. He wore a teal buttoned vest that tightly outlined his slim physique with a white collared shirt underneath, and tight suit pants. This was in contrast to his usual beloved cyan dress that, even though Stella thought it distasteful for a man to wear a dress, admittedly looked quite fabulous on him.
"Well, you look quite charming in men's clothing for a change," Stella said with a smirk.
Andrealphus smirked back at her, tilting his head up. "Now, now. Don't be bitter that I look better in a dress than you do, sis," he said.
Stella huffed, feigning indignance. "You wish," she said, giving his attire a once over, noticing an artificial shine to it, alongside several wrinkles. "Though, I dare say, polyester is hardly a good look on you."
Andrealphus deflated. "Ugh…Don't get me started on this hideous abomination of an outfit," he grumbled, his smug grin dropping. "This vest is an insult to our royalty, not to mention the fucking doyle wrapped around my neck," Andrealphus ranted, making Stella cackle. "I swear, our parents could learn a thing or three from us. I own a custom tailored frost-crystal dress, and they make me wear fucking polyester?"
Stella cocked her head. "They made you wear that? What's the occasion?"
Andrealphus shook his head, sighing. "The occasion, dear Stella," he said bitterly, "Is that they're very mad. Dad's not in the mood for 'crossdressing queers' tonight, as he puts it." Andrealphus said, throwing air quotes up. "My only vests are being dry cleaned tonight, so I had to grab what I could on such short notice."
Stella felt a little bad for making fun of his dress earlier after hearing that. She forgot how old fashioned Father could be. "Fuck him and his stupid frills," Stella snapped. "What does he know about fashion? I think your dress looks distinguished."
Andrealphus puffed up with pride a bit at hearing that. He brought his hand to his chest, opening his mouth to speak.
"Hey! Don't fucking look away! If you're gonna call me a shitty father, look me in the eyes at least!"
"Oh my fucking Satan, get over yourself!"
Muffled yelling from another room echoed through the main hall. Andrealphus closed his mouth, giving an annoyed side eye. "Well, I've already been, eh…chewed out. I suppose it's your turn to face the music." He muttered, heading to the door as he let out a heavy sigh. "I'm heading home to dispose of these garments before they defile my feathers any further."
Stella turned to face him before he left. "Andy, we should talk more. We haven't caught up in months." She suggested.
Andrealphus paused as he put his hand on the doorknob, before turning back to her with a smile. "Perhaps we are overdue for tea," he said, his hand holding the doorknob as he hesitated. "You know, there are things we ought to discuss. Preferably…away from our parents," he said. Stella cocked her head.
"Hey hey hey! Don't you fucking throw that-" SMASH! "You BITCH!"
Andrealphus smirked, nodding his head at Stella. "I'll tell you some other time. You'd best get that meeting out of the way. Tata!"
Stella sighed as she was left alone in the manor. It was time to, as Andrealphus put it, face the music.
She reached the door to the dining room area, hearing the yelling coming from behind it. "You're not in trouble, Stella. You're not in trouble," she muttered silently to herself as she prepared to face the storm.
As Stella entered the dining room, she was greeted with the sight of broken porcelain and glass scattered throughout the entire room, almost as if dishes had been thrown in every direction. It was, quite impressively, even worse than the outbursts that she herself was prone to. Not to mention the screaming.
"So it's my fault, again!" Father whined. "What do you want me to do, darling, go over there and occupy his genitals myself?" he shouted.
Mother simply scoffed. This only seemed to make Father swell with rage.
"You know what, you cow?" He said, stepping closer. "I'm done with your fucking attitude. That passive aggressive sigh that you do makes me want to snap your beak off of-"
Stella cleared her throat loudly. The two stopped, before glaring in her direction. "Mother. Father. You wished to speak to me?" She said, not much trying to hide her lack of enthusiasm at being back home. As she saw that the glares had yet to dissipate, she felt a slight trepidation.
"Stella…" Father growled. "What is all of this about an imp?"
Stella groaned as everything clicked. It had only happened a week ago, but word travelled quickly among royalty. "It's Stolas. He saw an imp, and I swear to fuck he just went and stuck his-"
Father slammed his fists down on the table, stunning Stella into silence. Rarely had Stella seen him this upset before. "I've no patience for your incessant whiny excuses! What. Is your marital status," he asked, his voice trembling as he glared at her. "Because if you're divorcing your husband-"
Stella gasped indignantly. "Divorce? No! What the fuck, father? This is none of your business anyway! Why the fuck do you care?" she yelled, unable to maintain her decorum.
"Why do I care? Why would I care about being in the family circle of the most influential group of this ring?" Father stood up from his seat, glaring daggers at Stella. "You know why I care. Our family is tied up in multiple political endeavors that are only possible due to our connection to King Paimon. If that's lost…" Father shook his head, banishing the thought. "If your marriage is still safe, then WHY is your husband courting an imp?" He asked pointedly.
"I don't fucking know!" She cried, shaking her head.
Her mother clasped her hands together, leaning in closer. "You really have no idea why he's fallen for a lowly imp?" she asked, giving Stella the look a parent would give to a lying child. "You've not done anything wrong? Anything that might push him away, make him value an imp over you?"
Stella's eyes narrowed at her mother, not liking what she was getting at. "What are you implying, mum?"
Mother rolled her eyes. "Stella, please. We raised you, all the way through your adolescent years. We know you're a bitch."
Stella grunted indignantly. "Wha-well so are you, mum!" She pouted, outraged.
"Enough!" Father shouted. The two went silent, both glaring. "It's true, short temperament runs through our family," he grumbled, gesturing to his wife and himself. "But Stella, you cannot treat Stolas the way me and my wife treat each other. He is a frail soul." He clasped his hands together pleadingly. "You must be a bit more...tactful. Gentle, even."
Stella looked between the two with a growing sense of unease. It was almost as if they were persecuting her for scolding her husband too much! "And what are you suggesting? That I bow down to him? That I submit to that pervert?" she snarked sarcastically.
When the two remained silent, her eyes went as wide as dinner plates.
"Oh, no no NO, you are fucking insane!" said Stella, immediately turning to leave. She wouldn't even entertain the thought! She refused! It was simply preposterous!
Father rubbed his face in frustration. "Goodness, Stella, surely it can't be that hard to offer him just a bit of respect and dignity in exchange for grand royalty! Your husband is a prince of-"
"My husband is an imp fucking, classless bastard!" Stella reached around for something to hurl against the wall, but every possible projectile had already been thrown by her parents, so she gave a frustrated grunt and stomped her foot. "He acts nothing like a prince! What don't you get about that, father? He's an imp fucker!"
"That imp fucker is our link to the Goetia inheritance, you little shit!" Father furiously shouted. He shoved the table to the side, making it topple with a loud crash, drawing a yelp of surprise from Stella and Mother. Father stomped up to Stella.
"And you seem to have forgotten who you're speaking to, young lady," he muttered. Stella noticed that even Mother seemed a bit startled by Father's aggression.
However, unlike her cowardly mother, Stella was never one to back down.
"No. I think you're the one who has forgotten who you're talking to," she growled, drawing closer to her father's face, their beaks mere inches apart.
"What…did you just say, girl?" He growled dangerously.
"My husband is your connection to the Ars Goetia family. Without me, you're just a lowly viscount." She pressed forward, jabbing her finger into her father's chest. "Tell me, what the fuck can you possibly do to me that won't sever that connection? Hm?" Stella cocked her head, giving a cheeky smile.
Her father stayed silent, his face twisted in rage.
"Hm. That's right. Nothing. You just have to sit down, shut up, and mind your own GODDAMN business!" Stella shouted, before brushing her talons through her long mane with an air of satisfaction. "I have a right to be pissed at stolas, and that's final. I'm untouchable, by you, Stolas or anyone else."
She admittedly found a certain pleasure in being the one to talk down to her parents for once. Her mother appeared to be genuinely perplexed, unsure of how to resolve the situation.
Her father, however...his expression darkened.
"If you leave the Ars Goetia family, you leave this family," he said, his fists balled up at his sides. "You will be cut out of all family inheritance, and forbidden to set foot on any and all Noctis family property."
"What?!" Stella squeaked, clutching her chest. "You can't do that!"
"Yes I can!"
The walls practically shook from his booming voice, silencing Stella. She glanced to her mother for help, but her mother simply stared at the floor, refusing to hold eye contact with her daughter.
Father closed the distance in two strides, firmly grabbing Stella by the chin and forcing her to look him in the eyes. "You're nothing on your own. You don't own a business, you don't have a job, you don't even have any talent! You're a spoiled, nepotistic brat, and just as soon as I gave you your whole world, I can take it all away."
Stella knew better than to speak up at that moment. She had only once seen her father this angry. She had little time to reflect however, as Father grabbed her by the arm and dragged her across the room to a shelf.
"Come over here, you stupid girl," Father scoffed, reaching over and grabbing a piece of parchment. It was a signed contract that looked oddly familiar to Stella. She recognized her signature at the bottom which he tapped with his finger. "You remember this, right? Look at it. Fucking read it, worthless brat," Father demanded.
Stella's eyes skimmed the paper, reviewing its contents. With each word, the memories came flooding back. "No," she said simply, shaking her head. "No, no. We signed this before I'd met Stolas and realized what an asshole he was!" Stella cried desperately. Her pleas fell on deaf ears.
"I don't give a damn what he's like! I don't care if he beats you every night before he goes to bed!" Father shouted. "Our family's social reach has never been greater, and you are NOT going to fuck it up for us!"
To Stella's dismay, her memory of the paper's contents served true; It was a contractual agreement that guaranteed any alimony granted to Stella via the Goetia family may be claimed by her parents, should they desire, up to its entirety.
And she had signed it as a child. She hadn't known any better! How could she have?
Father snatched the paper, tucking it away before looking down with contempt. "You're right, I can't do anything to you," he said, turning to leave. "But you won't be coming back to us if you lose this marriage. Everything you own will be mine, and nobody will help you."
Stella stammered and stumbled as he turned to leave. "B-but…you can't do that. Dad…I'm your daughter!" she stuttered as she ran after him, begging him to reconsider. It couldn't be true - he couldn't really mean to disown her, to abandon her! "You fucking idiot, Dad! You'll ruin the Noctis family's reputation if you do that!"
"I'm sure everyone will understand," he mumbled, heading up the stairs to his room.
"But what about me? I'm your daughter!" Stella cried out desperately as she ascended the stairs after him.
"If my daughter isn't a princess, she's not my daughter!" Without another word, he slammed the door shut, retreating to his room to seethe.
"Fuck you, Father! I hope you choke on two dicks and die alone!" Stella screamed at the door, doing her best to make sure he heard her loud and clear. She rushed back downstairs and into the dining room, seeing Mother sitting up as servants came in to sweep up the mess.
"Mum, go talk to him. He can't do that! I'm a princess!" Stella pleaded desperately, her pleas falling on deaf ears as Mother stood in silence, her gaze fixed on the floor. "Mum!" Stella cried indignantly. "He's not allowed to do that! Are you even listening? Mum!"
Mother followed Father's path upstairs wordlessly, her bravado from earlier having been completely melted away.
"For fuck sake Mum, can't you just help me for once? Please." Stella pleaded, her red hot fury turning to icy fear. "Mum. Please. Don't leave me." Stella begged weakly.
Mother stopped halfway up the stairs, seeming to hesitate for a moment. That moment of hesitation passed before Stella's hopes could rise. Mother trudged up the flight of stairs, feebly opening the bedroom door and joining Father, leaving Stella all alone in the devastated kitchen.
"No...this isn't happening..." Stella said, her hands starting to shake. Her heart raced, her body trembling as the walls seemed to close in on her. She felt a wave of nausea rising, and a chill ran up her spine. Her breathing grew faster and more erratic as a wave of panic overtook her. She grabbed onto the wall, trying to keep her composure, but it felt like the room was spinning out of control. The edges of her vision began to darken as her head started to feel weightless.
For the first time in Stella's life, she felt true dread.
"Is everything alright, Princess Stella?"
Stella looked up to see that same old imp again, standing at the door. She shook her head.
"I…I don't feel well…" she mumbled, taking a few stumbling steps forward, before faceplanting into the floor, unconscious.
"Ohhh…fuuuuuck…" Stella groaned, sitting up. She felt like her brain was being smashed in the head with a brick every four seconds. "What…"
"You feinted, Lady Stella." She heard a familiar voice. She looked up to see that same old imp butler stood before her, wiping his spectacles with a cloth. "You hit your head quite hard on the stone floor. I was too far away to catch you. Apologies. I've returned you to the Goetian Manor."
Stella reached into her gown and pulled out her makeup kit, looking into the mirror. She saw the nasty bruise on her lower face, marring her fair feathered hide with a lurid mix of black and blue. She began to cover it up, smothering the bruise from her fall beneath a layer of white makeup.
"Is everything alright, Princess Stella? You were out for quite a while," the imp asked, his stoic facade slipping.
Stella sighed. "No, imp. Everything's not alright. How could everything be alright? My world is coming to an end!" she whined, melodramatically resting her hand on her forehead. "It's all over for me, servant! Father said he would excommunicate me from my family if…if…" Stella's breath hitched, her lower lip quivering as she began to sob.
"…he said I have to treat Stolas with respect! AND DIGNITY!" She cried out, before burying her face in her hands, bawling like a child. She didn't notice the older imp roll his eyes.
"I'm terribly sorry to hear that, your majesty…" he said placatingly, patting her on the shoulder. "I believe your best course of action would be to heed your father's words."
Stella's head reeled back, and she let out a mournful wail. "I can't! I can't do it! He-he cheated on me! WITH AN IMP! A dirty, filthy, rotten, lowborn, red skinned, good for nothing IMP! What don't you get about that?!"
The imp offered Stella a tissue, which she greedily snatched from his hands and dabbed her cheeks with. The butler merely placed his spectacles back on his face. "I'm afraid you don't have much of a choice, your majesty. Your parents enjoy many sociopolitical benefits of being related to the throne of King Paimon. Losing their connection to the Goetia family would surely mean retaliation. It's either your dignity, or your royalty, it would seem."
Stella paused for a moment, cradling her head in her arms. "I…I don't know what to do. I'll admit that I may have a little bit of a temper," she said, causing the servant to quirk an eyebrow. She continued. "I just know Stolas is going to do something dumb again. And when he does, I don't know if I can control myself! I'll lose my temper, and then I'll lose…"
She looked around at the exuberant mansion, down at her beautiful white gown, and her expensive high heeled shoes. She looked down at the makeup kit in her lap, looking into the mirror.
"…I'll lose everything. He'll leave me and I'll lose everything." She whimpered, looking into her reflection.
There was a brief silence. They both knew she wouldn't be able to control herself. The butler seemed genuinely thoughtful for a moment, before speaking.
"I may have an idea, Princess Stella."
Deep in the heart of Imp City, surrounded by a thick smog of sulfur and exhaust, a building stood tall. Tall for the area it was in, at least. It was dwarfed by the larger buildings owned by the upper class. In fact, it hardly stood taller than the run down apartments just across the street. But still, Dr. Wilkins' establishment stood tall and proud.
Inside the office, a reptilian demon paced back and forth, holding a phone to his head. He resembled a humanoid snake, his patchy scales a pale shade of green.
"Yes, of course, ssssir. That can be arranged. Yes, at your earliest convenience. Of course, have a wonderful day."
Wilkins could barely contain himself, fist pumping as he hung up the phone. "I'm RICH! Oh, I'm going on a vacation! A vacation, I say!"
The snakelike demon was practically dancing around the room with joy. He had just scored his biggest client yet! Wilkins had worked with big names before, but someone from the Ars Goetia family? He was going to be set for life! After paying his assistant, that is.
"I hope you're not retiring already, not before handling your next four clients." A young imp woman said, poking her head into his office. Wilkins gestured his scaled hands towards her. "Oh! Verona! My lovely, lovely assistant! You'll never guessss who I just got a call from!" He hissed gleefully, grinning ear to ear. "The Ars Goetia family! We're getting a commission covered by The Noctis Family!"
Verona gasped. "No fucking way!" she said as Wilkins squealed with delight. "You'd better take me on a vacation WITH you," she added, crossing her arms.
Wilkins clapped his hands together. "Anywhere in all of the rings that you'd like to go. We'll have money."
"As long as you don't fuck it up," Verona said, smirking.
Wilkins just waved her off. "I've been leading anger management therapy for decades now. Have a little faith in my ssskills." Wilkins sat back in his chair, resting his feet on his desk.
"Do your tech magic, gather all available information on this Stella figure. Both public and private." He leaned back in his seat dreamily. "How difficult can one client really be…"