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Lilith, First Woman and Queen of Hell, returned to Heaven in the year of 1485, according to the earthly calendar of the Western World. Afterwards, King Lucifer Morningstar locked himself away in deep despair, barely tending to his kingdom. It took years before the king began to rise from this depression. The former Queen’s request for a legal divorce in 1492 was a hard blow to him, but he rallied, and did his duty. In time, the court pushed for the king to marry again, to bind his family to another, and beget more children, as he only had one heir, the princess Charlotte Morningstar.
- from The Life and Reign of Lucifer Morningstar by William Revenant.
“We are almost ready to welcome the Marewood family and the Thorne family tomorrow. The rooms in the Eastern Wing are prepared, the kitchen staff are working wonders, as for the entertainment-”
The steward droned on and on. Lucifer nodded every once in a while, trying to be the dutiful king, interested in the affairs of the castle. He’d done a poor job for years, locking himself away after Lilith left. It was only in the last year he’d begun to make an effort again. It was hard, getting out of the dark fog that had been hanging around him.
“There will be dancing, I am told Lady Marewood’s eldest daughter, Elisabeth, is a most accomplished dancer, perhaps-”
“Lord Thorne has a son, does he not? He can partner up with her.”
“Oh, young Richard Thorne will not be joining us, your Majesty, he will be watching over their estate in the Envy Ring. But Lord Thorne is bringing all five of his daughters.”
Of course he was. Lucifer repressed a sigh. Ever since the divorce, every family in Hell had been obsessed with pushing their daughters and sisters on him. Occasionally son and brothers too, if that would catch his interest. Lucifer could not have denied Lilith a divorce; she did not want to stay, and so he would not force her to. But somehow everyone seemed to take this as a sign that he was ready to move on and find a new consort, not that he wanted to be left alone. Lucifer was tempted to lock the gates keep them all out, but that was not how a diplomatic king ought to do these things.
“Make sure you find dance partners for all these girls, then. I am in no mood to dance myself.”
“... but, your Majesty-”
“I am certain you will figure something out.”
Waving the demon away, Lucifer left the room. Perhaps it was a slight not to dance with any of the guests, but just how far did he had to stretch himself for these people? It would do no good to lead them on either. Still, he was certain the ladies would be placed beside him at supper, perhaps a new one every meal, in the hope that one of them might tempt him.
Music drifted through the corridor as he came closer to the royal apartments. An imperfect, but charming melody, stopping up and starting again. Lucifer stopped outside the door, listening.
“-move your fingers more like this.”
At first, there was a beautiful sound; technically perfect. Then, the clumsy attempt at replicating it. Still, the second tune carried so much love, the enthusiasm of a child compared to a teacher. There were few who could bring a smile to the King’s face, but this little song did.
“Like this?”
“Yes, princess, now try again, gentler.”
Again, the clumsy tune. It repeated again and again. Was there already some improvement, or was it just something he imagined? Such sweet music, filled with so much heart, a pure, innocent sound down here in this damned kingdom-
“It is unbecoming to listen at the doors, your Majesty.”
Lucifer could feel heat rise in his face. He was the king; this was his castle, he could damn well listen at any door he pleased, yet still, Alastor managed to make him feel embarrassed. He opened the door and stepped inside. Immediately, Charlie rose and ran towards him.
“Father, we have been practicing a new song!” She wrapped her arms around him, burrowing her face into his doublet so her words came out muffled by the fabric. “It is so fun, and I cannot wait to show everyone!”
“Oh, Charlie, that’s-”
“The steward wants the princess to preform for the guests tomorrow.” Alastor’s voice was as calm as ever, but when Lucifer looked up at him, he could see how the usual smile was tight; as if he was barely keeping it from becoming a sneer.
“He did what?”
“He came here. And talked to her.”
He shouldn’t have done that. Everything regarding the princess was supposed to go through the King, or the staff appointed to Charlie. The steward wasn’t supposed to ask the seven-year-old what she wanted to do. Why had he done that? It could be any innocent reason, couldn’t there? But Alastor was fuming, and something about that made Lucifer worry.
“I told him it was for your Majesty to decide.”
“Can I, father? Can I? Please, please, please?”
How could he could he tell her no? He had never been able to deny her anything. Perhaps it was guilt for being unable to provide the one thing she’d cried for more than anything; bringing her mother back.
“Yes, you can, sweetheart.”
“That means we need more practice, princess.” Alastor said. “You want to do your very best, do you not?”
“Oh, yes, I’ll do my best! Father, let me show you!” She ran back to Alastor, taking the gittern from the deer demon and sitting down to play.
Lucifer found himself a chair, and listened. Without the door between them, he could see how his daughter focused; her tongue sticking out in concentration. She was adorable. Perhaps she was spoiled, but she wasn’t rotten. He was fairly certain that was the truth, and not just him seeing her with a father’s eyes.
Time flew, and soon Charlie had practiced for almost an hour. Her maids came in, bowing to the king and the princess; it was time for her to get ready for bed. She hugged both Lucifer and Alastor, and followed the servants out. Alastor did not leave. Lucifer could have asked him to, instead he called for a servant to bring them wine. When the flagon arrived, Lucifer dismissed the demon before he poured the wine into this goblet and drank deep.
“Now then. What happened?”
Alastor reached for the other goblet and filled it. “He came to the royal apartments, declaring that he had ‘a very important task’ for the princess when the guests came.” He scowled. “He did not even ask, he told her.”
“And you?”
“Oh, the steward does not lower himself to ask for my opinion.” Alastor shrugged, but Lucifer wondered how close the steward had been to a bloody death in that moment. Then again, Alastor had never done anything of the sort in front of Charlie.
“I told Charlie we’d have to wait for her father’s approval. The steward bowed to that, at least.”
“It’s not like I could tell her no. It’s just a performance.”
Alastor stared at him. “He went behind your back, Sire.”
That was rich, coming from Alastor. The red demon did exactly as he pleased; he’d done so ever since he came to the castle. Lucifer had tried to send him away once, but Charlie had wept so bitterly at losing her music tutor, he could not go through with it. He’d give his daughter everything she’d wish for, and that included keeping the annoying demon around.
Lucifer sipped the wine. Why had the steward not talked to him about letting Charlie preform? “No harm was done.” He shrugged, hoping that was so. “Though I’d like to know why he did it this way.”
“Maybe he has learned your weakness, sire. The best way to get something from you, is to go through Charlie.”
Lucifer felt a chill creep down his back. Was the steward trying to use Charlie somehow? What did the demon want? For last year, his, and all the court’s wish was for Lucifer to remarry. Was this part of it? Did he want to foster some connection between Charlie and the new women presented to him? Or one woman in particular, perhaps? A lady would be bored playing friend to a seven-year-old, but she might play the role of a mother ...
No! Charlie had a mother, even though she was gone. And she had a father, and household that cared for her, servants, tutors in every topic, including a very strange one in music, she did not need a new mother, did she?
“What’s on your mind, Sire?”
“Nothing.”
“Your head is empty? I am not surprised.”
“Be quiet.”
Alastor laughed at first, but then, his voice grew serious. “I’ll accompany her to the dinner.”
“You’re not invited.”
“I will be there.” Alastor said, as if he hadn’t heard Lucifer at all. “It’s her first performance for an audience; she’ll feel better with her tutor there. And I’ll keep my eyes open.”
You’re not her father, Lucifer thought. He was the one who ought to watch over Charlie. Then again, he could not afford to let his pride get in the way of keeping Charlie safe. If there was any danger; perhaps he was being paranoid. Lucifer emptied his goblet and reached for the flagon.
“Are you certain you can handle this, sire?”
“I can drink you under the table any day.”
Alastor’s grin widened. “A challenge, is it?”
Lucifer called for another flagon. They sat there, drinking together. Wine was better with company, even if that company was his daughter’s despicable music tutor. No, that wasn’t right. Alastor could be ... frustrating to be around, but Lucifer didn’t despise him.
In the beginning, yes, Lucifer had downright hated him. The red demon had been excellent with Charlie from the first day, helping her create music of her own. But he had had absolutely no respect for the king. Still hadn’t much of it, and he would say it to his face. One of the few that was honest with him; criticising and mocking just about everything he did. The worst part was that he was so often right.
They finished the second flagon, and this time, Alastor asked for another. The servant looked to Lucifer, who nodded begrudgingly. More wine came, and they drank. What had started as a competition sizzled out as they lost count of who had drunk more.
“They- they are not even trying to hide it anymore.” Lucifer mumbled. He’d reached the state of drunkenness where his words seemed to bypass his brain and instead jump straight out of his mouth. “Or if they are, they are doing a poor job of it. It’s like they think I’m a fool.”
Alastor smiled. “Who could possibly think that of you, Sire?”
“The whole court. Two weeks ago, it was the Hemlock-family from Gluttony, now it’s two families from Envy and as usual they all just happen bring along every unmarried relative of marriable age.” Lucifer took another sip of wine. “And it’s not just the court, it’s like all of Hell is in on it. Mammon has invited me to the Greed Ring, because there’s ‘people I ought to meet there.’ I know what that means. Seems everyone wants me to remarry.”
Alastor looked at him. The smile remained, but a slight frown formed between his eyebrows. “Should I feel sorry for you, or the poor soul that will have to spend their years in your presence?”
“I am not that bad company.”
“When I first met you, you spent your days locked in your rooms. In the dark. Alone, save for Charlie.”
“Not anymore.” Lucifer insisted. He’d done better, this last year, he’d tried to take his role more seriously, to get out there, and actually be a king. He had woken up from the daze of numb grief. Back then, only Charlie had been able to make him feel anything else. Well, her and Alastor. Alastor had made him feel angry. Now he had a whole specter of emotions; boredom, frustration, embarrassment and so many more, it had all snuck back in.
Right now, underneath the alcohol, he felt worried. He was no fool. Every family parading potential spouses before him did so for the same reasons: Power. Influence. Places at court. Money. They all wanted to be the ones closest to the throne; if he picked one bride - one family - over the other, new rifts would open up.
But the biggest rift might well lie years and years in the future. If he married again, if he had children again ... what might happen if he should pass? Charlie was his heir, would always be his heir, but if there were others ... any woman would want her own child to rise to the throne. So would her father, mother, brothers, siblings. Charlie would be in the way.
Lucifer found himself almost resenting this possible future child, for putting Charlie at risk. Such a child would have so many on their side, who would Charlie have, if Lucifer was gone? He shuddered, and drained his goblet. Too much wine. He looked at Alastor, wondering if he was feeling it now, or would feel the consequences in the morning.
Alastor would be on Charlie’s side, at least. Not that he could do much, he had no family, no connections, no high position at court, he was ... was ... what was he? Lucifer’s thoughts felt at once foggy and crystal clear. No family, no – no risk of taking sides. Because – because he would be at Charlie’s side, and- and there would be no other children and –
Once again, the words spilled out of his mouth almost before he had the chance to think them through properly. Or even think about them at all. “Marry me, Alastor.”
Alastor spit out his wine. The red demon bent over the table, coughing until he could breathe properly again. Then he turned to stare at Lucifer. “You. Are drunk, Sire.”
“No, no, I-” There were actual thoughts there, some idea, but it all seemed foggy.
Alastor rose from his chair. His legs were unsteady, and his cheeks were red. “You are. Go to bed.” Then he turned and walked out of the room before Lucifer had a chance to say anything else.
The kitchen staff had outdone themselves with the dinner; it was too bad the evening was less an occasion to enjoy good food, and more like a social game of chess. The placement at the table, who talked to with who, and what was said, who asked who for a dance. Everything seemed to be done with careful intent. Lucifer could feel the theatrics of it all.
Elisabeth Marewood and Anna Thorne were pleasant enough. Someone had put the eldest daughters of each family by the King’s side, and thankfully, they were more concerned with making a good impression than tearing down each other, so any animosity only rose to back-handed compliments. He tried to at least be polite, act the part of a gracious host, but he had no interest in either of the ladies.
Charlie was sitting at another table. Alastor had insisted on joining her, and when the steward had protested, Charlie had turned her big eyes on her father and asked why Alastor couldn’t sit with her. Again, Lucifer couldn’t say no. Alastor had been right, the best way to get something from the king was to go through the princess. How many others had understood that? Could everyone see it?
Charlie certainly got much attention from the guests. There were only two places beside the king, so two other Thorne-ladies had manoeuvred themselves into place beside Charlie, complimenting her outfit and asking about her likes with far more interest than any twenty-something would normally show for a seven-year-old’s opinions.
The chatter quieted down when Charlie rose from the table and Alastor led her to the centre of the room to perform. The melody was sweet, and there were only a few mistakes that the audience pretended not to notice. But for once, Lucifer could not wholly focus on his daughter. His gaze kept slipping to look at Alastor; he watched the red demon watch the princess. He saw the pride a tutor might feel for their student’s accomplishments, but there was something else there as well. Fondness. Care.
He had seen these glimpses before. It had annoyed him then. Of course, Charlie deserved to have everyone care about her, but at times Alastor’s position felt like a threat to Lucifer’s own. She already had a father; she didn’t need another father figure. But now, with strange idea from the night before still on his mind, maybe ....
Charlie finished her song, and curtsied. Everyone applauded, and several of the ladies gathered around her, praising her talent.
“Your Majesty, your daughter has a gift for music.” Elisabeth Marewood whispered.
“Indeed,” Anna Thorne piped up. “You must be so proud of her.”
“I am.” Lucifer said. “She is the most wonderful daughter anyone could have.”
“How true, how true.” Elisabeth Marewood nodded. “I can only wish that one day I will have children as sweet as her. Maybe ...” She smiled, but didn’t finish the sentence. Perhaps she was hoping for some gallant answer or assurance that of course she’d be a mother to wonderful children on day, or worse, and offer to help her make one. But Lucifer did not give it to her, and so, the silence grew awkward.
He was saved by Alastor leading Charlie up to the table to say good night. Her performance had marked the start of the dancing for the evening, and it was time for her to go to bed. Lucifer hugged her, and sent her on her way. Alastor went with her, and somehow, it felt like Lucifer had lost an ally against all these guests; all these strangers that all wanted something from him.
He spent the rest of the evening in the balancing act of trying to remain polite while refusing any advances. When the ladies hinted that he might want to dance, he blamed his age – really, he was thousands of years old, he was an old man – there was many young men here who would make better partners than him – apologies, he was deep in conversation with Lord Thorne – he just wanted another slice of pie – and so on and son on.
The evening ended at last, and Lucifer could find some sleep. But the when morning arrived, the guests were still there to be entertained, and the day was spent hawking, riding and talking. Pleasant enough activities, but most of all, Lucifer wanted to be left alone. He wanted to think. The strange thoughts he’d had the night before the guests arrived ... he had been drunk, true, but sometimes alcohol lowered inhibitions, made one forget all the little details, giving rise to new ideas.
An idea that kept coming up all through the day. As Elisabeth Marewood talked and talked over dinner, Lucifer’s mind was drifting elsewhere. As he kept balancing between being polite and not giving any of the guest’s false hope, he kept thinking. There would be no end to this, no end of visits, hints, flirtations, bribery, no end to this madness unless he made a choice. That night, he lay awake, and the idea, that strange idea would not let him rest. It was well past two o’ clock when Lucifer sat up in bed, redressed and left his room.
He walked down quiet corridors, careful not to wake anyone, until he arrived at his destination. He knocked carefully on the door. Too carefully, perhaps, because nothing happened. He knocked again, harder, this time. Still nothing. It was only at the third time he heard movement from inside the room. He stood and waited, listening.
Finally, the door slid open a crack and Alastor peeked out. He blinked, seemingly still half-asleep, but when he saw who was standing outside his door, his eyes flew open. “Wha- what are you doing here!?”
“May I come in?”
“Wha- no!” Alastor hissed. “Go back to your own rooms!”
“I need to talk to you.”
“Now? It’s the middle of the night, what if-”
Alastor’s ears twitched, and he looked down the corridor. Lucifer also heard the footsteps; someone was coming. Alastor quickly opened the door fully, grabbed Lucifer and pulled him inside before locking the door again. The footsteps came closer, and passed by the door. It had likely been one of the many servants in the palace, on their way from one task to the other.
“Thank you for letting me in.” Lucifer whispered.
“I just did not want anyone to see you standing outside my door at this hour.” Alastor sneered.
In the dark, Lucifer could barely make out the room; when he moved, he stumbled into a small table. Groping around, his fingers brushed a candleholder, and with a flick of his fingers, he lit the candle. It made enough light that they could see each other. Alastor was in his nightshirt; the worn fabric fell almost to his knees, but did nothing to hide the long legs that ended in deer hooves. Lucifer only got a moment to take in the sight before Alastor grabbed a cloak and wrapped himself in it.
“Why are you here?” Alastor hissed.
“I had to speak to you.”
“And that could not wait until morning?”
“No.” Lucifer replied. “And I thought it best to talk privately, where no one can hear us.”
Alastor tightened the hold on the cloak he’d covered himself in. “And ... what is it you want to say?”
“I want to repeat my proposal from last night. I hereby ask you to marry me.”
Alastor stared at him. “How much did you drink this time?”
“I’m not drunk.”
“Lost what little wit you had, then?”
“No-”
“Any time you’ve spoken of marriage, you have rued the prospect.”
“Yes, but-”
“And with this sudden change of heart, you offer yourself to me, who has shown no interest in you or the bonds of matrimony?” Alastor asked, suspicious like an animal studying a snare. “Why not pick one of the countless demons throwing themselves at you?”
“For each family in Hell wanting to put one of their own on the throne, there’s three that are conspiring to stop them. All these people are used as pawns, money and favours are exchanging hands to manoeuvre me where they want me on the playing board. I can’t stand it.” Lucifer shook his head. “They all flatter me, never say a word against me, and beneath it, everything is a web of pretty lies. I do not want to marry again, but it seems they will not stop until I actually choose someone.” He looked at Alastor. “And if I have to choose, I want a consort that will tell me the truth, no matter how ugly it is. Someone not afraid to face me. Someone I can trust.”
For a long moment, Alastor just stared at him. “... and you trust ... me?”
“I trust your love for Charlie.”
Alastor shrugged, but he didn’t try to deny it. “Charlie is an easy child to love. Everyone adores her.”
“Oh yes, they do. She is the princess, the heir to the kingdom, after all. But will any step-mother love her more than a child of her own flesh and blood? Will any family grasping for power see her as anything more than a hindrance on the path to the throne?”
“So, you will give up your chance at second love, to ensure Charlie’s safety?”
“Lilith was my one love, no one can replace her.” It was the truth. Who could ever compare to Lilith? Lucifer had given her his heart, and she had broken it. He was not so deluded that any new spouse could heal such a wound. Some of the hopeful ladies might have such delusions, but Alastor would not. Another point in his favour.
Alastor was quiet for a moment. Then he asked: “... if I agreed to your proposal ... what would I get out of it?”
Anyone of the demons Lucifer had been introduced to this last year would have said yes immediately. Then again, they had come to the castle with hope, seeking him out. With Alastor, it was straight to the point, like a deal to be struck. It was better this way.
“As my consort, you will be one of the most important people in the Kingdom. Second in rank only to me. If it’s power you want, I can share that with you.”
“Hmm.” Alastor nodded, considering this. “Interesting.”
“It would, of course, be a bit of a scandal.”
“Now that is tempting.” Alastor smiled. “I suppose I will be free to go where-ever I wish, do whatever I want with this considerable power you’re offering me?”
“Oh, you’ll find that there are limits even to what royals can do. As a consort, you’ll be weighed down by the duties that come with such power.” Lucifer found himself actually smiling back. “But I suspect you’ll manage to create quite a lot of chaos regardless.”
“... and what of the duties in the bedroom?” For the first time since they had met, Alastor’s voice had some trace of ... nervousness? “... this would be a marriage, after all.”
“A marriage that is not consummated can be set aside.” Lucifer could easily imagine how people would start plotting to make him do just that; he did not want to give them any more chance to, when he was taking this step precisely to put a stop to all their nonsense. “So, we will spend our wedding night together. After that, I won’t ask anything more of you.”
Alastor was quiet, seemingly considering. Lucifer looked at him; the deer demon had none of Lilith’s soft curves and smooth skin, and there was no mane of blond hair tumbling to the ground. He was thin, all sharp angles, and what little Lucifer had glimpsed of his body had been covered in fur. Alastor wasn’t who Lucifer wanted. But people slept with spouses they did not love all over Hell, and all over the earth. They could manage for one night.
“So ... what’s your answer?” Lucifer asked.
Alastor grinned. “I will have to say no.”
Ah.
Well, it had been a silly idea; some desperate way out of this frustrating situation. Lucifer moved to leave, but Alastor stopped him. The deer demon bent down so his face was close to Lucifer’s.
“You come here to my chambers in the middle of the night, like some this is some secret rendezvous that will blacken my reputation if found out? No, Sire, that is not the way an honourable man asks for my hand.” He put a long finger against Lucifer’s chest, tapping it to emphasise each word: “Do. It. properly.”
That was a challenge. Lucifer smiled. “Well, I hope you will accept my invitation to the council meeting tomorrow, then.”
“Why, thank you, Sire. I might be there.”
Alastor listened at the door for a moment, to hear if there were anyone out there. No sound could be heard, and so he opened the door and pushed Lucifer out.
Lucifer arrived for the council meeting in higher spirits than he usually did. Even the courtiers noticed.
“You are in a merry mood today, your Majesty?” Lord Hemlock asked.
“I am.” Lucifer replied.
“Might I inquire as to the reason ...?”
“I will divulge my secrets when the time is right.”
Since Alastor was nowhere to be seen, Lucifer let the courtiers bring up the matters of the day. They talked of the land-dispute down in Sloth. Usually, it was the responsibility of the leader of the Ring to sort out such matters, but Belphegor, Sin of Sloth, had not bothered much with her duties, and the conflict was getting out of hand. After a while, there was a knock at the door.
“That will be the wine.” Baron Bloodworth muttered, smiling. “You may enter!”
When the door opened and Alastor stepped inside, Lucifer felt at once both calm and nervous.
Baron Bloodworth looked disappointed at the lack of wine. “You are ...?”
“This is Alastor, my daughter’s tutor.” Lucifer said. “He will be joining us today.”
“Your Majesty?”
“Find yourself a chair, Alastor, this will only take a minute.” Lucifer said, before turning back to the courtiers. “Now, the land these families are arguing about ...”
Alastor found a chair at the very end of the table, where he could look directly at Lucifer. There was a challenge in his eyes. Will you actually do it? that look said. Or will you back out like a coward? No one knew of their conversation. Lucifer could just ignore the red demon and pretend it had never happened. If Alastor said anything, who would believe him over the king?
The courtiers glanced at Alastor every now and then, but soon the wine actually arrived, and that was enough of a distraction for several of them. Once they finished discussing the Sloth Ring, Lord Wraith reached for a letter with Leviathan’s seal on it. “Now, your Majesty-”
“Before we go any further, I have an announcement. Please sit down.”
They all did, looking at their king.
“Over the last year, we have had many meetings on the matter of my remarriage.” Lucifer began.
That got everyone interested. Lord Hemlock’s eyes gleamed; Elisabeth Marewood was his niece, and she had been talking Lucifer’s ear off at the last dinner. Count Gallowsrope looked excited; all five of his granddaughters had been presented to Lucifer at various banquets.
“I do have a need for a consort to support me, and help me raise Charlie.” Lucifer got up from his own chair, and began walking round the table. “I have been introduced to a great many candidates, and I’m sure it will cheer you to know I have made a decision.”
Those courtiers that did not hang on his every word now, glanced at each other, clearly going through every name they knew, wondering who it would be. When Lucifer stopped in front of Alastor, some of the cleverer ones seemed to realise what was happening. Lord Hemlock’s face turned ashen.
“I would like to ask Alastor to be my consort, and rule by me side.” Lucifer held a hand out. “If you will have me?”
The room was eerily silent, and for a second, Lucifer had the brief thought that Alastor could really humiliate him by turning him down in front of everyone; at least the first two proposals had been in private. But third time was clearly the charm, because Alastor grinned, took his hand and rose from the chair.
“Your Majesty, I would be honoured to marry you.”
It was a performance at this point, but Lucifer found himself actually enjoying it a bit. He bent his head and kissed Alastor’s hand. “Thank you, my dear.” Then he turned to the stunned courtiers. “So, the preparations for the wedding-”
“NO!”
“Your Majesty!”
“You jest, surely-”
“You will be a laughingstock-”
“This is not-”
They were all babbling, shouting over each other. Lucifer let them shout for a moment; it was oddly satisfying to see them as frustrated as they had made him over the last year. Beside him, Alastor was grinning so wide it looked almost painful; clearly, he was enjoying this.
“Silence, please.” Lucifer said, holding up a hand. They quieted down a bit, but some could clearly not hold their tongue.
“Your Majesty, you cannot do this!” Lord Hemlock shouted, pointing at Alastor. “You- this- a servant-”
Lucifer stepped between them. “Have care how you speak of my betrothed, Hemlock.”
Lord Hemlock looked like he was choking on the words he wanted to say, then he turned and stormed out of the room. The others looked bewildered, trying to figure out how to protest this turn of events.
“But, your Majesty ...” Lord Wraith mumbled. “This is not quite what we had in mind-”
“You have been hounding me for a year to remarry, and now that I have finally found someone, you have objections?” Lucifer shook his head. “Is there no pleasing you people?”
“But- but-” Lord Hollow’s voice lowered to a whisper: “He cannot give your heirs.”
“I have an heir already; Charlie.”
“Y-yes, but-”
“Your Majesty-”
“Are you sure-”
“Of all the people in the kingdom-”
Baron Bloodworth turned to Alastor. “Eh, your family-”
“I have none.” Alastor replied.
“But y-your family name ...?”
“Oh, I do not have that either.” Alastor said carelessly. Baron Bloodworth looked like he was about to faint.
“It will be Morningstar, in a few months.” Lucifer said.
“Hm. I like the sound of that.”
Count Gallowsrope took his goblet and drained it. Lucifer looked at them all, mumbling and whispering, some of them sitting there in shock. There were mutterings of ‘but, sire’ and ‘are you sure?’ But they did not dare to oppose him any further than that. Lord Wraith sighed, and picked up paper and pen. “Well, then ... Sire. We need to make preparations. We – we can start with the wedding clothes ...”
His face was a grimace; it looked like it physically pained him to even say it, and Alastor burst out laughing. Lucifer looked at him. This was a marriage of convenience, a proposal made from the mind, not the heart. But now as he looked at Alastor laughing, he himself struggled to keep his face serious.
This might actually be ... fun.