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Spring, many years ago
Icy hues watched the couples dance; twirling about gracefully with perfect, practiced, faux smiles. Each set that glided across his vision was one that was either matched, or seeking a match of their own. Each pair was putting on airs as the slightly warm spring breeze wafted in from an open balcony window. He couldn’t help but wonder how much of it was fake, and how much was genuine.
Shifting his gaze to another pair on the floor, he knew the answer was the former.
He always wondered why his sister was matched to a temperament the polar opposite of her own. Anyone with a working set of eyes could tell this match was doomed for the start; someone as bright and well read as the prince with someone as boorish and temperamental as his sister?
It was both laughable and infuriating.
His sister was not, and would never be the perfect match for the prince, and he couldn’t help but wonder what would have happened had their situation been reversed.
What if he had been paired with the prince instead of his sister? Sure Stolas was a bit soft, and frankly a bit of a pushover, but his intellect more than made up for it. An intellect that was on par with his own; which was a rarity among their peers, and made the situation all the more vexing.
It should have been him, not her that waltzed with him on the dance floor. It should have been him, not her who was to be wed. It should have been him to hold the prince’s gaze. It should’ve—
A sudden, warm presence settled at his side, snapping the young marquis from his thoughts and to his guest. “...what do you want?”
The guest, who just so happened to be a prince himself, put on a look of mock hurt.
“So cold, Andy! I just came over to see how you were doing. It’s been a while since we were last together.” Prince Vassago, son of King Purson and one of the very few around his age that he could call a friend, had sought him out.
The last time they saw each other was when they were fledglings, running around the prince’s estate looking for treasure and getting into every sort of trouble along the way without a care in the world. Many years had passed since then, leaving them on the cusp of adulthood and waiting to take on their respective roles. Expectations, compounded with lessons, left little time for them to meet outside of functions like this.
He should be happy that his friend was here. Elated, even. And yet…
“You know, the harder you glare, the more likely you’ll burn a hole through something.”
“I didn’t ask.”
“Glaring at them won’t bring you what you want.”
“Again, I didn’t ask—”
“But I know something that will.”
This caused the marquis to pause.
“And how do you know what I want?”
“I know how you look at them, how you so desperately want what he has. Or perhaps wanting him all for yourself.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“I also know,” he continued, “that the more you long for what you cannot have, the more unhappy you will be.” Met with the peacocks’ silence, the prince continued. “But what if I told you there was a solution? That something better was in store for you?”
“...I would think you were lying.”
“Have I ever lied to you?”
“...no.”
“Then would you be willing to hear me out?”
“What do you propose?”
Here the prince’s gaze returned to the marquis’s own, a smile spreading across his bill as he stood. Holding out his hand, he spoke again, “How about I show you, if you will do me the honor of this dance.”
Andrealphus looked to the prince, his gaze narrowed in contemplation before slowly reaching out to take his hand. “Fine. Show me, but you had better not disappoint."
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Summer, a few years later
In the months and years that followed, the prince certainly didn’t disappoint. Each and every day that passed brought the pair closer together, starting with chaste kisses and hushed promises to many a hot and humid night exploring one another between silken sheets.
It was on one such night, safely nestled in the arms of his lover that another topic was broached.
“You know you can trust me. Your secrets are safe with me, Andy.” This earned the parrot a swat.
“I know that, you dolt.”
“But I’m your dolt.”
Andrealphus rolled his eyes, trying not to smile at that cheeky grin. “And I told you plenty of things already. The rest will come when I am ready.”
“I know. And when you are ready, I’ll be here to listen, mi amor.”
Giving another roll of his eyes, Andrealphus reached up to grasp the back of Vassago’s head, bringing their beaks close together. “Yes, yes. Now if you’re quite done, why don’t you put that bill of yours to good use?”
The quip was met with a devious grin. “As you wish, mi princesa.”
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Fall, many years later
“Andrealphus! ¿Qué diablos fue eso?”
Ah, now that was a new development. He expected Vassago to be furious, but to go as far as using his full name? He must have truly riled him up good and proper this time.
Folding his arms behind his back, Andrealphus’s cool gaze met Vassago’s burning stare.
“Whatever do you mean?” He asked, his words coming out as a drawl that only incensed the prince further.
“You know damn well what I mean! You had him stripped of everything! Everything, including his daughter!”
“He broke demon law, Vassago; he lent out a powerful, precious artifact that could have put us in grave danger. And in the hands of a common imp, no less! You know the law well, do you not? Serious breaches of it warrant an equally serious punishment. He got what was coming to him, and justice was served.”
“You call that ‘justice’?! You didn’t even invite him to his own trial, and nearly getting a whole team of imps and hellhounds executed—”
“And they were just as guilty for using the grimoire to go to the human world, illegally, I might add. By rights they should have been executed for their crimes, but they were spared. I fail to see what all the fuss is about?” He nearly flinched as Vassago’s fist hit the wall.
“That’s not the point, and you know it! What you did was uncalled for and a gross violation of due process!”
“What I did was bring criminality to light and right the wrongs and failings of one of our own. That is hardly something to be upset over.”
“You know what else was upsetting? Seeing you gleefully advocate for his punishment, and gloat as he was reduced to nothing! I knew you craved power, but not like this.” His words were spoken with vitriol; a hurt so gripping it brought a pang to Andrealphus’s chest.
Taking a deep breath, Vassago looked into his lover’s eyes, his gaze holding a tiny flicker of hope that nearly made him shrink back. “Why did you do it? Was it truly to gain power, or to get some sort of petty revenge? Was it because you could not earn his affections back then?”
The last question earned the prince a scowl before the usual mask of indifference settled upon his features. “I have already explained myself; if you cannot accept it, then that is on you.” He did not owe Vassago any more than that. Though when the hope that was in the prince’s eyes vanished, only to be replaced by a far more hardened glare, a part of him felt that he should have spoken.
“I have stood by you all this time, making excuses for you while also ignoring what has been in front of me this whole time! After today, I cannot do this anymore. I cannot continue to struggle to understand you, not when you refuse to tell me the real reason and instead hide behind excuses like you just did. I had hoped things would change, that you would not go down this path, but it seems I was wrong.”
The prince turned on his heel, refusing to spare his former lover another look. “Enjoy your newfound gains while they last, Andrealphus.”
No word left his beak as Vassago left; taking what little remained of his heart with him. It wasn’t like he needed it anyway.
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Winter, present day
It felt like just yesterday he had been standing on top of the world.
Stolas banished; all of his assets, roles, powers and responsibilities were given to him, along with his precious heir. Andrealphus had performed both his own and Stolas’s duties flawlessly, earning approval among his peers and betters. It silenced any criticism some of them still held of that day.
Well, most of the criticism.
There had been a few among their own who were not satisfied with how things went, and no amount of hard work and proof on his end would change that.
These few had done their digging, and their persistence was rewarded in finding his one loose end; using it to condemn the former marquis. They wasted no time in contacting the assassin who he gave immunity to, wringing out a truthful confession, which led to a rather damning paper trail.
The twisting trail made its way back to his sister, who in turn laid the blame on him. The result was a second trial, this time spearheaded by the very man who had left him that day all those years ago.
In fact, it turned out that Vassago had been the one to seek out the assassin, to get the confession from the imp’s lips, and chased down the paper trail. It all led to him being the one in front of Satan this time.
The prince had known of others who were unhappy with Andrealphus’s power grab that day, and he used their support to carry out his own investigation. He had always known that the prince was unhappy with what had transpired, but to think he would go this far to get back at him? He had failed to take into account just how passionate Vassago was about justice, and underestimated the lengths he would go to in order to set things right.
It was a grave oversight that would cost him dearly.
As he stood before Satan, showing no trace of emotion as his sentence was handed down, the very world he was standing atop of vanished. He was to be banished, stripped of all titles, powers and wealth for an undetermined amount of time. While he was not the one who ordered the hit on Stolas, the fact that he knew was more than enough evidence and justification for his punishment.
To make matters worse, Stella would be banished permanently for having ordered the hit on her husband. Her whereabouts were to be kept from him, for the courts had yet to decide if she would rot in prison, or be subjected to servitude for a high ranking goetia. Whatever it would be, contact between the siblings would be severed for the length of his banishment, if not permanently.
As for what would happen to Stolas’s estate, Octavia was to be promoted to Stolas’s place while her father served out the rest of his sentence. Her care and education would fall into the hands of her grandfather, who would be sure to mold her into the proper heiress she should have been all along.
Then the court was dismissed for lunch, though he didn’t know where, or when he would get his next meal. Hell, he didn’t even know where he would even go once everything was said and done. Not that it seemed to matter to anyone in attendance as they began to leave the courtroom.
The sins filed out first, none so much as sparing the former marquis a glance. The rest of the Goetia followed suit; some with sneers and looks while others uttered hushed whispers behind their hands. He didn’t need to look nor hear them to know what was being said, instead keeping his head held high and ignoring each and every one.
All but the one who had stayed behind.
“Are you happy now?” Andrealphus asked, the question coming out as a sneer as Vassago’s expression shifted to one of remorse.
“No, I am not.”
“You got the justice you sought; the wrongs have been righted, and I have been put in my place. You should be celebrating.”
“Nothing about this is worth celebrating. It wasn’t when it was Stolas, and it isn’t now that it’s you.”
“Liar.”
“All of this could have been prevented. If you had just been open with me from the start and pursued matters not from a place of gain but from actual concern—”
“Spare me the lecture,” Andrealphus cut in with a roll of his eyes. “We both know that nothing would have changed, and that you would find a way to excuse and defend Stolas while ignoring me. You never would have understood.”
“You’re wrong. Remember what I told you on that spring night, all those years ago? Remember the promise we made in the summers that followed? I promised to be by your side, to listen and understand, yet you shut me out. You kept to yourself and refused to let me in!”
“I had my reasons.”
“And what were they? That I wouldn’t understand? That I would abandon you if you showed me your heart?”
“Isn’t that what you did anyway?”
Silence fell between them, the weight of the disgraced marquis’s words pressing down, prompting the prince to shift awkwardly.
“...I know. I know I hurt you that day.”
“Then there’s nothing to discuss. You know what you did, and I am now aware of my own failings. We are done here.” He turned toward the door, fully intending to leave and not look back when he felt something snag his wrist.
“¡Espera! Don’t leave! We can still talk about this!”
“I am sure you have far more pressing matters, as do I. In case you haven’t noticed, I am in need of a home, and I will not stand here and wait for one to magically appear.”
“I can fix that! You can stay with me!”
“You expect me to willingly stay in your home and mooch? After you left and had me stripped of everything I have ever known? If that’s what you think, then you’re sorely mistaken. I do not need your charity, Vassago.”
“Trying to make things right isn’t charity, Andy—”
“Do not use that name with me! And it is too little, too late for that.”
“It is never too late to make things right, to change. I firmly believe that.”
Andrealphus fell silent, staring at the prince for what felt like ages. “...there is no fixing failure, Vassago. What has happened cannot be undone.”
Vassago fixed him with a serious look. “Maybe not, but one can change things going forward so that past mistakes aren’t repeated. That is, if one is willing to give a second chance to try again.”
“Are you asking? You should know that I do not forgive easily, and no amount of pretty words will sway me.”
“How about I show you, then?”
His beak twitched at the words, recalling the same ones that swayed him all those years ago. Back then the prince had kept to his word, and a part of him knew he would do so again. It would take time to build that trust and closeness again, but it wasn’t impossible.
His sappy hopefulness was starting to rub off on him. Disgusting.
“Fine, but this is your last chance. Do not disappoint me.”
Vassago held out his hand, smiling as he felt Andrealphus’s hand slip into his own. “As you wish.”