Stella closed the door behind her, returning to the Goetian Manor. She wasn't really sure what to think. She had hoped her therapist would give her some sort of easy way out, some sort of foolproof plan to avoid ever having to talk to Stolas again while preserving their relationship. But now she was starting to wonder if it might be better to repair their relationship to at least serviceable.

Neither of them liked each other, and they certainly weren't romantically interested in one another; Stolas wasn't her type at all. But that didn't mean they need be so hostile, not when an entire family inheritance was on the line.

As much as she hated it, she knew deep down that she needed to talk to Stolas.

She saw two imps across the hallway, one sweeping the floor. The first was the younger imp that had served her tea too hot, the second was the older imp she had grown to appreciate.

The elderly butler was vigilantly overseeing the younger imp. Having been a lifelong member of the family, he had assumed a supervisor role, and his performance was always impeccable. Those under his charge found themselves increasingly productive. She wished she knew what his secret was.

The butler looked up, noticing her arrival. "The Princess has returned. May I fetch you anything?" he asked.

Stella shook her head. "No. I'm looking for Stolas." She sneered and looked around. "Where is he hiding right now?"

The butler nodded. "He left for his studies approximately five hours ago. Knowing his habits, he has likely not left the library since."

Without another word, Stella walked off in the direction of the library. She could always trust that imp to do the job right. Unlike her newer, younger servants, he never stepped out of line, never missed a spot, and never, ever disappointed her. She might have even considered him close were he not a lowly imp.

Stella slowly advanced towards the grand oak double doors of the library. She had never ventured into the library section of the palace, as it felt like a forbidden realm to her. It was almost a silent agreement that it was Stolas' domain, and she felt out of place even for coming close to it. The carpets beneath her were like dark, murky, unsailed waters to her. Taking a deep breath, she steeled herself for the most difficult conversation of her life.

knock knock knock!

"Come in!" She heard that accursed sing-song voice from behind the doors, and knew there was no way back. With an apprehensive grip on the handle, she opened the door and stepped into the library.

The sight before her was immense. The vaulted ceiling soared high above her, and the walls of ornate stone and wood were lined with towering bookshelves, each packed with novels. The library seemed to extend for miles, with rows and rows of tall shelves acting as partitions between the library and the lounge area.

"Oh…Stella. What an unexpected surprise."

Stella could sense the palpable unease he felt at her intrusion into the library's hallowed halls. The same uneasiness stirred within her, as if she were an unwelcome voyager trespassing on sacred ground. Indeed, that is precisely what she was.

"Stolas," Stella acknowledged, sitting across from him by the fireplace.

The two sat wordlessly for an eternity as Stolas hesitantly returned to his book.

"We should…talk," Stella said, uncomfortable with the very sentence.

Stolas looked up cautiously, folding the corner of the page before closing his book and laying it in his lap. He held out his wine glass. "Pardon, servant. Refill my glass? Rosé, please." He gave a side glance at Stella. "Extra full."

"You really can't go a single conversation without getting fucking wasted?" Stella asked in disgust.

Stolas merely scoffed. "Really, Stella? You're going to be the one to lecture me on alcohol consumption?" he said with a deadpan.

Stella raised a finger in protest but then let it drop, her mind struggling to find the right words. She wasn't sure why she even challenged him on that. "Hm. Fair enough. Servant, bring two glasses of Pinot Noir as well!" she called out to the imp on his way out. She noticed it was the same imp who seemed to mess everything up. As she watched him make for the wine storage, she steeled herself for being delivered the wrong wine.

Stolas laid back in his seat. "And here I thought you preferred white wine. Something about red wine being for 'low-class drunkards' like myself, no?" Stolas asked.

Stella sighed. She wasn't sure how Stolas could be so uncultured as to think he had caught her in a double standard. "Only when paired with salmon, like you always seem to do in front of guests. Red wine is...acceptable on its own."

Stella rapped her fingers on the table next to her, debating her words carefully. "I didn't come here to talk about wine pairings. I came to talk about you and I."

Stolas deflated a little and gave a tired sigh. "Must you do this tonight? I've already heard every demeaning insult you have to offer. Twit, scrawny twig, Stol-ass…" He seemed to grow more agitated with each word. It drove Stella insane that he wasn't even giving her a chance.

"Fuck sake, Stolas, you don't even know what this is about!" She said, throwing her hands in the air. "You just assume I'm some evil bitch! You always do this!"

"What else could you possibly be here for?" Stolas snapped. "You never come to me for anything other than to pile on more snide, unnecessary remarks!" Stolas narrowed his eyes at Stella, glaring at her. "And that's when you even bother to talk to me, rather than just belittling me in front of all your friends!"

He scoffed at Stella with contempt. "If you're just here to prattle on about how I'm not good enough for you, you can spare us both the lecture and get out of my library because the feeling is mutual."

As Stella was about to respond with some choice words of her own, she saw the imp servant approaching with three wine glasses in his hands, two filled with the Pinot Noir she had asked for, one filled with a lighter Rosé for Stolas.

"Um…You're Pinot Noirs, Lady Stella," the imp said, his voice tinged with a hint of trepidation as he approached her. He held a glass of Rosé in his left hand, and the two glasses of Pinot Noir in his right hand. He was holding the glasses by their stems to avoid his body heat affecting the contents, which was correct. However, his grip was shaky. Stella couldn't help but notice a slight tremble in his grasp on her two drinks.

"Be mindful of my wine, servant..." Stella warned as she watched the two glasses of Pinot Noir wobbling between the servant's fingers, the panic evident on his face. He tried desperately to steady himself and catch the two glasses, but it was too late.

The first glass of Pinot Noir slipped out from between his fingers and, as he reflexively lurched forth to catch it, his hand swooped forward, flinging the wine of the second Pinot Noir out of its glass…and straight onto Stella's pristine white gown.

Stolas gasped, bringing his hand to his beak. A heavy silence hung in the air as the imp looked up in horror, setting the Rosé down on the table. The princess trembled in shock.

"Oh…oh my fucking Satan…MY DRESS!" Stella shrieked in horror, looking down at the red stain on her beautiful white dress. She scraped at the red blotch as if that would make it go away, but the wine had already settled into the material. It was ruined! Ruined! She whipped her head around to the sheepish imp that had ruined her best dress.

"You clumsy red-skinned bastard!" she screamed, grabbing the poor servant by his throat and holding him up to eye level. Stolas leaned forward, raising a finger in protest, but then paused and sat back, thinking better of it.

"I'm sorry, Lady Stella! It won't happen again! I swear!" the imp babbled. Stella's face turned red, even underneath all the white makeup. The imp's eyes practically bulged out of his skull as Stella screamed at him, shaking him to and fro.

"It won't happen again because I'm gonna rip your FUCKING head off! I'm gonna rip your head off and…and…"

Stella's words trailed off as she glared at the imp. She could see her reflection in his wide, frightened eyes. She remembered why she had visited the library: To prove she was working on her anger.

Stella exhaled the angry air, before taking a deep breath in…

…

And out…

…

In…

…

And out.

This repeated for nearly a minute. Stolas watched Stella's breathing become slower and more methodical as her furious expression softened. "Eh…Stella? A-are you alright? Do...do you need a doctor?" he asked, his fear turning to mild concern.

She ignored her husband, and breathed in…and out… her face had softened to a light scowl after a short while. She opened her eyes, her expression now relaxed and levelheaded. She looked to the imp, who was now crying out of fear for his life, his throat still in her grasp.

"We all make mistakes sometimes," Stella said, her voice trembling as her eyelid twitched. "It's important that we not let those mistakes define ourselves, for we will always come out as better people from them."

Stolas' jaw dropped in shock as Stella let go of the imp and sat back into her chair, closing her eyes and resuming her breathing technique. The imp fell to the floor, landing on his backside as he looked up in genuine shock. "Uh-uh-uh…y-yes sir! I mean- Lady Stolas-I mean, Lady Stella! Thank you for your mercy! This won't happen again!"

The young imp stumbled back to Stolas, handing him the partially spilled Rosé. Stolas was too shocked to grab the glass, so the imp just laid it on the table next to his seat, quickly topped it off, and scampered out of the room as if he feared Stella would change her mind.

The two sat silently for a whole minute, the air heavy with anticipation.

"What…Stella…I..." Stolas stumbled, blinking several times. "What the fuck was that?" he blurted abruptly, unsure how else to voice his utter shock. Stella had thrown imps off the balcony for far less, which was likely the cause of his disbelief.

Stella opened her eyes. She was still focusing on breathing but had entirely suppressed her outburst.

"This. This is what I came to talk about. Do you trust me not to tear your head off, at least for tonight?" She asked. Her tone still carried an air of annoyance, but it was notably softer than usual. She fought to keep the vulnerability out of her voice.

Stolas gazed at her, perplexed. He lifted his book off his lap and placed it on the tabletop, giving her his undivided attention. The animosity in his eyes had vanished, replaced by a newfound curiosity. He crossed his legs and gave her a trepid nod, signaling her to continue.

"Stolas, I don't know how else to tell you this. I'm still mad at you for everything you've done to me, but…I give up." Stella muttered defeatedly. "You win."

Stolas cocked his head, confused at what she was getting at.

"All these days and nights fighting…it doesn't help me," Stella said. "I get angry, yell at you, you yell back, and then I get even angrier. I must reiterate that I haven't forgiven you, and I'm certainly in the right, but…" Stella trailed off. She couldn't bear to look him in his glowing crimson eyes.

She was about to admit defeat to her greatest enemy.

"I know that I've…not been very respectful to you. I'm working on it, I suppose." The words tasted awful as they left her mouth. Every bit of disrespect she had given him was completely deserved! But as she apologized, she felt as though she was forced to eat each and every bit of it. How many times had she called him pathetic, weak, and worthless? Yet she was the one working towards changing herself. It wasn't fair, but Stella figured that perhaps life wasn't fair.

She sat there, her heart heavy with defeat and her eyes downcast, awaiting the smarmy victory speech. She knew that whatever he said would be filled with pompousness and grandiosity, the words of a victor, and she dreaded what humiliation or retribution he had in store for her.

Silence.

Stolas sat in silence, his brow furrowed in contemplation. He opened his beak, then closed it. He was choosing his next words carefully.

"Stella…I'm-" He exhaled, trying to find the words to say. "What happened? I don't mean to say this isn't a welcome change of pace, but you're not acting like…well, yourself."

Stella shook her head. "I don't want to talk about it," she mumbled. If he knew that he was her last anchor to luxury, he might use that to exploit her. It would be better if he thought this was an act of benevolence and self-improvement. It wasn't, of course, as she needed no improvement. She was perfect the way she was. But Stolas' perception was more important than hers for the moment.

Stolas sighed and reached for his Rosé. "Very well. I won't pry. But can you just give me...something? Is Andrealphus making you do this? I would hope this isn't a twisted prank of some sort," he mused, raising the glass to his beak and taking a large sip.

"Stolas…I'm attending anger management therapy."

Stolas immediately did a spit take, spraying Rosé all over Stella's face.

"STOLAS!" Stella shrieked at the top of her lungs as her face was splattered with wine.

Stolas immediately set his glass down and pulled out a handkerchief. "Oh dear I'm so sorry Stella! I didn't mean to-"

"It got in my mouth! It's in my fucking mouth! I can taste it!" she babbled, her hands flailing around her face. Outraged, she stood up and stomped towards the door.

"Wait, Stella! I'm sorry!" Stolas called out, getting up from his seat as he reached for her.

"Fucking-WHAT? WHAT IS IT? This conversation is over! I already said you won!" Stella spun on her heels, glaring at Stolas. "Do you want me to do anything else for you? Fucking grovel at your feet? Kiss your ass a little bit?"She stomped towards Stolas. "You'd like that, wouldn't you, disgusting pervert?" She jabbed an accusing finger into Stolas' chest, making him stumble back into his chair.

Stella towered over him, her imposing shadow engulfing him as he cowered beneath her. "Do you want me to get down on my fucking knees for you and suck you off like that fucking imp did in OUR bed? Is that what you expect me to do?!"

Stolas blushed, shaking his head fervently. "N-no! Stella, please! Do the breathing thing again!" he begged, raising his hands to shield himself from the feral beast before him.

Stella shoved Stolas' hands aside and grabbed him by the scruff of his robes, pulling him right up to her face. "I'M AS CALM AS I'M EVER…gonna…" Stella stopped herself mid-sentence.

She let go of Stolas, sighing and putting her hands up as she stepped back and closed her eyes. She took some more slow, deep breaths.

It didn't help at all.

"GREEEEEAAAAAAAH! This fucking day!" Stella roared. She lifted her foot and attempted to punt the table across the library, but it was made of solid maple and hardly budged as her foot slammed into the wood.

"Motherfucker!" She squawked, grabbing her foot as she recoiled in pain, before turning to the vacant chair and lifting it above her head. She let out a savage roar and threw it to the ground, breaking one of the arms off. Stella then grabbed the coffee table and flipped it, toppling everything on its surface with a loud crash.

She spun back around, panting. Her husband was backed into his chair like a cornered animal, his eyes wide with fear as he gripped onto the arm of his chair for dear life. She reached out and snatched the glass of Rosé from Stolas' hand. She downed the contents in one gulp before spiking the glass to the ground as hard as she could, causing it to shatter into countless pieces.

Satisfied with the destruction she had caused, Stella wiped her face with her sleeve and walked away with a dignified air. "I'm going to bed, Stolas. I've had a bad day."

On her way out, she grabbed a bottle of Stolas' red wine off a table, taking it with her as she slammed the door behind her, leaving Stolas alone again.

He sat in silence, utterly unsure of what just happened. "What in hell is going on tonight..." he muttered, sitting up in his chair, still shaken. He tried to return to his book, but he could not focus. Anger management...Was she really?

Was it finally over?

Would he finally know peace?