************
The heavy drapes of the chamber blocked out most of the morning light, leaving the room cloaked in soft shadows. Miriam carefully placed the last folds of fabric on the large oak table and stepped back, watching Hazel with a quiet smile.
They had been busy for almost a whole day, with Hazel drawing some designs and Miriam carrying it out to the tailors in the castle.
"I finished," Miriam said, her voice gentle but proud. "Your Majesty, this is unlike anything worn here in the Citadel."
Hazel's heart pounded as she approached the mirror. The dress shimmered in the dim light, its silky material flowing like liquid moonlight. It was a deep midnight blue, off-shoulder, hugging her waist and flaring just enough at the hips to suggest grace and power without revealing too much. The hem hovered just above her knees—a daring length for the formal gatherings in the underworld.
It was modern. Elegant. Unapologetically hers. It felt just like home and it looked even better with Hazel's features — How she wished she had these features back in her world.
As she stepped in front of the mirror, Hazel studied herself. The dress highlighted her curves in a way that made her feel different—bold, yet still regal. Her silver hair was pulled back loosely, with strands framing her face, softening the striking contrast of her sharp features and pale skin.
For a moment, she almost didn't recognize herself. Not the broken princess Hazel, nor the carefree Ariana. This was a new version, a queen carving out her space in a foreign world.
"I feel weird being the only one in the kingdom wearing this," she whispered, touching the delicate fabric. "But also powerful."
Miriam nodded, stepping closer. "It suits you. They won't know what to make of you."
Hazel laughed softly, posing for the mirror. "Good."
---
The journey to the great hall was a blur of curious gazes and barely concealed whispers. The halls of the Citadel were lined with ornate statues and flickering sconces, but none of that compared to the attention now focused on her. Servants and guards alike stopped mid-step, their eyes wide as if they were seeing a goddess walk among them.
At the grand entrance, she saw Hades. His figure was statuesque, draped in his usual black attire and a cloak hanging from his shoulders, a silhouette that seemed carved from shadows themselves. But as Hazel entered, his gaze snapped up with an intensity that made her skin prickle.
She saw it then—the moment his eyes locked onto hers.
---
Whispers rustled through the room like a dark tide.
"What is she wearing?"
"She's bold."
"I wish I had something just like that, she's extremely beautiful."
One of the elder demons, a stoic figure who rarely spoke, gave a slow nod, the faintest flicker of approval crossing his usually impassive face.
Alyssa leaned close, her eyes sparkling with mischief. "I've never seen anything like that here. It's… intoxicating. She's full of surprises."
King Ares chuckled, twirling a lock of his fiery hair. "Hazel's wearing something that's got all the kings distracted."
Lycan's amber gaze darkened, shadowed with a mixture of surprise and something deeper—possessiveness perhaps. His stance straightened, muscles tense beneath the fur-lined cloak. He didn't speak, but his silence was loud.
---
Hazel felt the weight of all those eyes, but it was Hades's that held her captive. He moved slowly toward her, each step measured, as if approaching a fragile relic or a weapon that could cut through his icy composure.
When he stopped inches from her, the room's noise seemed to fade until it was just the two of them.
"My lady," he said quietly, his voice rough with something unspoken.
Her breath hitched under his gaze, she felt like she dressed this way to impress him but in reality it was just to be comfortable, and maybe to spark some attention.
"You look different," he added, a statement heavy with meaning.
Hazel dared a small smile, brushing her fingers against the fabric at her hip. "I'm trying to evolve."
Hades's eyes darkened, and for a long moment, he said nothing.
Then, his hand reached out—slow, deliberate—and brushed a stray lock of hair from her face. The gesture was tender, almost reverent, but his touch burned like fire.
"You are… unsettling," he admitted. "Not just because of your dress."
Hazel looked up, heart pounding fiercely. "Unsettling how?"
"Because Ican't seem to figure you out. When I thought I had you figured out, you always seem to bring out a whole new layer," He paused, his lips curling into a ghost of a smile. "You are more dangerous than I imagined."
"Dangerous?" she whispered, raising a brow.
"Yes." His voice dropped lower. "Because you make me feel things I thought long dead."
A tension crackled between them, thick enough to choke on. The other lords and ladies gave them space, sensing the quiet storm.
---
In the depths of her mind, Ariana screamed. What the hell are you doing? But Hazel—her voice—held steady. This was her moment, her power to wield. It was as if her mind was active but her body wasn't, like she was under a spell.
She felt the shift inside her—a blending of two worlds, two selves, coming together like fire and ice.
She was no longer the frightened girl who wanted to run. She was a queen. A force to be reckoned with.
And perhaps, just perhaps, she was beginning to understand what Hades meant by "dangerous."
---
The murmurs in the great hall began to swell again, but Hazel no longer cared. She was anchored by the fierce storm in Hades's eyes.
He leaned in, his breath warm against her ear.
"Tonight, you'll wear that again."
She blinked, startled.
"To the ball."
Hazel's heart skipped. "The ball?"
He straightened, the usual mask of cold returning.
"Yes. It's time the underworld saw their queen."
Before she could answer, Hades's gaze softened—just for a second—and then he was gone, swallowed by the shadows.
As the crowd slowly resumed their whispers, Hazel stood tall, the dress clinging to her like a second skin.
"Elders. This is Hazel of Aetheria, now Queen of the Underworld. My consort, by union and decree."
A pause. No warmth in his tone, no affection—just fact. Like he's presenting a weapon, not his wife. Wasn't he just being warm a moment ago?
"She has yet to be schooled in the intricacies of our court, our faith, or our rituals. I have brought her here not to defend her worth... but so you may see for yourselves the one who now sits beside the throne." He said, his face stoic and cold.
One of the elders, their voice a blend of growl and echo, leans forward:
"She is human."
Another rasps, "Tainted by mortality... and yet her soul does not tremble."
A third, red-eyed and with a molten mouth, speaks with curiosity:
"Will she kneel, we wonder?"
Hazel doesn't flinch. She doesn't kneel. 'Hell, I would never kneel to anyone. I am Ariana Kiel, i don't kneel to anyone,'
Instead, she gives a slight curtsy—just enough to acknowledge them without submission. A perfect balance.
"I may not yet understand your laws," she says calmly, "but I understand power. And I know I'm looking at it now."
That earns a rumble of approval from one of the elders. Another raises a finger—cracked, blackened, and adorned with red crystal rings.
"She speaks well for someone so newly hatched."
The eldest one leans forward, his voice lower and darker than a pit:
"Does she know what will be required of her? The rituals, the sacrifices? The blood and bone of queenship in our realm?"
Hades cuts in, tone cold:
"She will learn. And she will survive. If she doesn't, the underworld will return to ash—so it would be your loss, not mine."
Hazel's stomach flips. That wasn't protection—it was a calculated gamble.
But she keeps her chin high. Standing Infront of these old demons, she was scared to the core, especially after hearing what they had to say.
But in order to survive she had to submit to their customs. In her old world she wanted to die, but here she wanted to live and to do that she needed to kiss up to their ugly ass.
"I don't need to be protected from your customs," Hazel says softly. "Just given the chance to understand them."
Hades glanced at her with creased brows, he was definitely not expecting that —Unbeknownst to him, it was all an act, she had to gain the approval and trust of these demons in order to survive here, she also needed allies.
"Hmm, you're right," Elder Asmador said.
"I like the way she thinks," Elder Mamareth smiled, his fangs peeking through his lips.
"It's only right, since I am now the Queen of the Citadel,"
"You've got yourself a fine bride son," Elder Astarien said.
"Hmm," Hades nodded, feigning a smile and glanced at her.
"He is lucky to have me," Hazel turned to him with a smile.
"Now all we want is an heir, the sooner the better," Elder Belyrion muttered and Hazel's face flushed.
"You hear that, we should have an heir as soon as possible," Hades said veering to her and the look in her face almost made him break out of his stoic character.
"I--i think we have a ball to plan, Hubby," She was back to calling him hubby, even the Elders now seemed confused at what she had just called him. "Please excuse us,"
They got out of there and Hazel who was previously clinging to him immediately pulled away as soon as the doors closed behind them.