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There was a certain tension in the air during the banquet Lord Diavolo hosted to celebrate the beginning of the exchange program; while everyone smiled politely or at least held carefully neutral expressions on their faces, nothing could hide the blatant disdain in some of their eyes. You tried not to be affected by the stares burning into your back, but it was difficult. It had been a mere week since you’d been transported into the Devildom and you were still adjusting to the new environment. To say that you were struggling would have been an understatement - you were surrounded by immortal and potentially dangerous beings, constantly reminded of your fragility and insignificance in comparison to them. Living in the House of Lamentation with the Avatars of Sin wasn’t without stress either, you were always subjected to their eccentric behaviors and arguments.
An unexpected touch on your shoulder nearly made you yelp, and you bit your tongue to stifle the sound. Heart throbbing in your chest, you turned towards whoever had touched you and tentative relief washed over you when you recognized Asmodeus.
“You look ravishing, darling,” he cooed, linking his arm with yours, “well, not quite as ravishing as me, of course, but that’s to be expected.”
He gracefully led you to the tables, talking about how stunning your outfit was - he had picked it out himself - as he walked, while you stayed silent, too focused on not accidentally tripping over your own feet and embarrassing yourself in front of what was probably the majority of Devildom’s aristocracy. The guests were taking their assigned seats one by one and to your horror, you noticed Asmodeus was deliberately walking you to the seating places of Lucifer, Lord Diavolo, and the Purgatory Hall group - a single free spot was between the two demons.
“No, no no no, you can’t be serious,” you whispered to Asmo, hoping the people around you didn’t have such superior hearing that they would be able to make out your words. “They're all going to stare at me! They already are! Why don’t you sit there in my stead, you want to be in the spotlight, don’t you?”
The Avatar of Lust giggled and pulled the chair out, helping you get seated, then he leaned down to murmur into your ear, “As much as I would like that, you’re supposed to be the star of today’s evening, my dear.”
Giving you a wink, he withdrew and sauntered over to the opposite side of the long table, leaving you stuck amidst the prince and the eldest of the brothers. You could feel Lucifer’s critical gaze on you, however, you refused to look at him, opting to watch the attendees instead, being careful not to establish eye contact with anyone. After just a short moment, Lord Diavolo said your name cheerfully, redirecting your attention to him.
“Ah, I can’t wait to officially introduce you to everybody,” he beamed, and it took all of your willpower not to jump out of your seat and run out.
“Yeah… me neither…” you mumbled, shoulders sagging in defeat.
Lucifer cleared his throat, and you shifted your face towards him before he smoothly remarked, “I’m sure you will do perfectly fine and behave appropriately, won’t you?”
Swallowing hard, you promptly corrected your posture, sitting up straight again. His eyes were piercing through yours until you swiftly averted your gaze, this time letting it settle on the plate and cutlery in front of you. Someone from behind you poured an odd-looking liquid into your glass and you eyed it suspiciously. It didn’t look like any beverage you’ve ever had in your realm, so you assumed it was demonus. Nervously watching the others take their glasses, you decided to follow suit, grasping the fragile object with your shaking hands.
As you watched the cloudy white fluid sloshing around, a jarring, ominous feeling swept over you. Everything inside you screamed to put the drink aside, not to consume it, but you ignored your instinct, attributing it to you simply being hyper-vigilant and nervous. You bit the bullet and brought it to your lips, tilting it back and gulping it down in one go before placing it on the wooden surface. Embarrassment burned on your cheeks once you saw everybody was drinking theirs slowly. Even so, you were unable to dwell on that further once the flavor hit you and you barely managed to avoid grimacing; it was pleasantly sweet at first, though eventually there came a nauseating aftertaste burning in your throat. It made your eyes water and you rapidly blinked, trying to rid yourself of the tears. Out of nowhere, a terrifying thought popped into your head: what if your drink had been poisoned? As abruptly as this notion had crossed your mind, you quickly shook it off when, after a bit, the taste dissipated. Who would be so bold to try to poison you, the prized human exchange student, at an event hosted by Lord Diavolo himself while you were quite literally sitting next to him?
Exhaling a shaky breath, you focused on the prince beside you who started addressing the guests with a speech. You were unable to understand his words; a loud rushing in your ears drowned all the noises out and your pulse was thumping in your throat. Confused by the abrupt onset of physical symptoms of anxiety, you took slow, deep breaths, knowing it would be over sooner or later. You nodded slightly whenever it seemed appropriate based on Lord Diavolo's body language and whatever snippets of sentences you picked up on to look like you were listening. It took a while, but when he was finally done, he smiled at you and you reciprocated, even if you weren’t sure exactly how forced it looked. He stood up along with everyone else, the attendees gradually mingling with each other again. It was obvious what was going to happen now; he would begin introducing you to the various important people of this realm. Anxiously, you rose as well, a wave of heat coursing through your body as you did so, feeling your legs wobble under your weight and your heart rate spiking. Looking around yourself, you noticed that your vision was hazy, yet you could still feel demons staring at you and hear their snickering. Turning back towards Lord Diavolo who was standing in front of you, you attempted to make out what he was saying; your efforts, however, were fruitless.
“Fresh air”, you managed to choke out, “I’ll get some fresh air.”
With that you spun on your heel, leaving the hall and ignoring all the voices surrounding you that were increasing in volume, but remained abstruse and unintelligible to you. All of a sudden, a person blocked your path and you were able to hazily make out red eyes, narrowing dangerously at you. Disregarding their presence completely, you pushed past them, continuing your way out. By the time you were alone, in a quiet hallway, you were wondering how you had been able to walk at all, your knees threatening to buckle at any moment. Still, you moved on, steadying yourself against the walls with one arm. The contrasting silence made you more aware of how noisy the whirring in your ears was, and how ragged your breathing had become as the heat in your body intensified. Head spinning, you stumbled through the hallways, having no idea where you were; you could have been in the castle’s dungeons for all you knew.
Despite the fog in your mind, you began to realize this was not anxiety; it had to be something entirely different. You faintly remembered the drink you had been served earlier - had it been just a few minutes since then or hours? Did someone actually poison you?
Before you could ponder on that question any further, pain exploded in your torso, making you clutch your chest and sending you falling to the ground. Unable to get up or even call for help, you could only clench your teeth while your breaths came in bursts, tears pooling in your eyes. The floor underneath you was blissfully cold as you ended up lying motionless on your side, almost paralyzed by the pain.
After some time, black dress shoes appeared in your view; their wearer quickly knelt next to you, and a gloved hand reached out towards you. When you let out a startled yelp, it temporarily paused in the air, then resumed its movements. The muddled shushing sounds did nothing to ease your fear, and the two fingers pressing against your neck didn’t either. Your pulse was pounding beneath the warm leather of the gloves and you could hear indistinct words, loosely resembling curses. The hand disappeared for a moment before it gently nudged your shoulder, coaxing you into rolling on your back. Someone was hovering over you, but all you could make out was the blurry silhouette of what you assumed must have been a demon. Whether they were here to finish their job or not, you did not know, and you were too weak to defend yourself.
Suddenly, the fingers - now bare - brushed over your face, the touch cool on your heated cheeks. Not able to stop yourself you whined, pushing up into the hand, not caring about the potential intentions they had. Soon, a second hand joined, mirroring the actions of the other, providing you with relief. However, it was short-lived; murmured, unfamiliar words that resonated with power filled your ears, and a strange pulling sensation emanated from the fingers on you. It was as if, somehow, it was reaching into your body, your soul, searching for something. You felt like your insides were being set on fire and it was trying to eat its way out of you, breaching through each and every cell. All you could do was cry out and sob, hot tears scorching your skin. The person wiped away the incessant tears, but they didn’t cease what they were doing, and you were certain that they truly were there to kill you.
Slowly, your vision became less blurred and you were able to make out a vaguely familiar face gazing down at you, red eyes that had glared at you with discontent previously were now a mix of concern and anger.
“… L-Lu… cifer…?” you managed to slur, tongue heavy in your mouth and pain clawing relentlessly at you. The demon you presumed to be Lucifer responded, but you were unable to comprehend even a single word.
“S-stop, please, please m-make it stop,” you pleaded with him while you were gasping for air. He held your gaze as you begged for mercy and the intensity in his demeanor seemed to subside. The grip on your cheeks softened and the overwhelming sensations eased. Your sight and hearing cleared further and eventually, you identified Lucifer to be the one kneeling by your side. Before you could say anything, however, a hand moved from your cheek to your brow, covering your eyes as well.
“Sleep,” was the first thing you were able to hear - and also the last, then you were plunged into darkness.
As you came to, you found yourself lying on a soft surface, slightly propped up, and a light fabric was draped over your body. Gradually, you regained awareness of your surroundings; you could feel the way your clothes were clinging to you, and just how drained you were. Some distance away, there were hushed voices, seemingly arguing with one another, and you could make out a couple of fragmented sentences from one person.
“… all due respect, my lord… warned you… you were naive to… the human… everything at risk… lucky that nothing…”
You blinked your eyes open, taking in the room blearily before your gaze landed on two people - a guilty-looking Lord Diavolo and an angry Lucifer. And as if the latter had a sixth sense, his head immediately snapped towards you and the argument ceased. The men promptly strode over to you, Lucifer sitting on the chair right next to the bed you were resting on, while Lord Diavolo stood in the background, his lips pressed into a thin line.
Lucifer's hand grazed over your forehead, brushing strands of hair that were sticking to the skin aside, feeling the lingering heat radiating off you. His fingers then went to your neck, checking your pulse once more. It was eerily silent as he attentively assessed your condition, and you felt awfully tired. Your body was aching; all you wanted was to return to blissful unconsciousness. But as soon as you closed your eyes, fingertips tapped insistently on your cheek until you opened them again with a groan.
“You must stay awake for now,” Lucifer asserted firmly. “Tell me, how are you feeling?”
“I'm alive,” you muttered hoarsely. He let out a long-suffering sigh at that while Lord Diavolo tensed up even more.
“Evidently, you are well enough to joke around. I suppose that is a good sign. Nevertheless - and I can not overemphasize this - you did nearly die. Consider yourself lucky that I found you when I did. A few minutes later and you would have succumbed to the poison.”
Reclining in the chair, he crossed his arms in front of his chest and fixed you with an appraising gaze. You attempted to sit up, but the pain shooting through you and Lucifer’s scowl made you lie back down. Finally, Lord Diavolo stepped closer to you and you observed his strained expression; you had never seen him like that before, and you almost felt bad about getting poisoned at his banquet.
“I’m terribly sorry that this has happened. Please accept my sincerest apologies and the assurance that nothing of this sort will ever occur again,” his voice sounded subdued and quiet.
“It’s not your fault, Lord Diavolo, you couldn’t have known.”
“He did know. I warned him that this could happen and yet, he refused to listen to me”, Lucifer huffed.
“Maybe because you always assume that the worst will happen, and then it never does. Well, this time it did, but-”
“I beg your pardon?” he halted your thoughtless retort with an indignant glare, making you shut up instantly. “As you should have noticed by now, not assuming that the worst could happen at all times is what will get you killed in the Devildom. I am merely trying to keep you alive, although you seem all but keen on seeking your death here with the amount of trouble you have managed to find yourself in since your arrival.”
Lucifer shook his head and sighed heavily before standing up.
“I have matters to attend to. Namely, finding the culprit”, he stated calmly as he walked towards the door. “Lord Diavolo, we will continue our conversation at a later time.”
With the Avatar of Pride out of the room, Lord Diavolo took the seat. His eyes were everywhere but on you while he was wringing his hands.
“Lord Dia-” you began, only to be interrupted by him.
“No. Please, just call me Diavolo,” he uttered, now looking at you. “I’ve put you in grievous danger because I believed no one would dare harm you on the castle’s premises. It was foolish of me to think that, and I must apologize for the distress I inadvertently caused you.”
“But you didn’t mean to, Diavolo. I’m not mad at you,” you explained and you tried sitting up again to be more at eye level with him. He quickly steadied you and helped you lean against the headboard. Pained whimpers bubbled in your throat and you clenched your jaw to suppress them as you shifted your position - you didn't want to make him feel even worse. However, it didn’t escape his notice and he sat on the edge of the bed, keeping a hold of your upper arms. His touch was cautious, as if he was scared of hurting you further. The prince looked at you for a moment before he moved his hands to your shoulders, his thumbs lightly stroking over them in a comforting manner.
“Seeing you like that… unconscious, barely holding onto life while Lucifer brought you back from the brink…” Diavolo finally said, his voice cracking. “It made me realize how frail you truly are. And… that I wish to get to know you properly. I don’t want to waste any more precious time, not when a human’s life is so short and delicate. And I promise you, from now on I will do better in ensuring your safety.”
The serious look on Diavolo's face was dizzying, so you simply nodded slowly. Just as he was about to speak again, Barbatos entered, carrying a tray with a steaming cup of tea.
“Ah. I see you have regained consciousness. How are you feeling?” asked the butler.
“I'm doing alright,” you replied easily. Diavolo tightened his grip on you a little, almost imperceptibly so, no doubt having recognized your lie. Giving you a lenient smile, Barbatos set the tray on the nightstand next to you.
“You will be alright. Eventually,” he spoke, his words heavy with meaning, before bowing and exiting the room, leaving you alone with Diavolo. With his hands still resting comfortingly on your shoulders, he frowned as he watched his butler leave.
Not wanting to further aggravate the ache that was plaguing your body, you suppressed the urge to shake your head. 51 weeks left. You just had to make it through 51 more weeks.