Lucien's POV
"What lies, Lucien," Ael said coldly, his piercing blue eyes narrowing. "It's no wonder you're a fallen angel."
His words sliced through me like cold steel.
"I'm telling the truth," I said, my voice low, strained, hurt. "Why would I come here—risk everything—to lie? Why would I contact you of all people if it weren't serious?"
Ael didn't answer. He simply studied me, his expression hard, searching for deceit. He didn't trust me. He never had.
I reached into my coat and pulled out a small vial—a crystal tube sealed in gold, glinting in the light of heaven's chamber. Inside, a few strands of hair shimmered faintly, almost pulsing.
"Here," I said, holding it out.
He arched a brow. "Hair?"
"Just touch it," I said.
With a skeptical grunt, he took the vial and unsealed it. The moment his fingers brushed the strands, his eyes widened.
"This essence... it's strong." He gasped softly.
Then the strands ignited in his palm, burning with silver-blue fire.
"Why did it burn?" he asked, stunned, tossing the ashes away as they vanished into light.
"Because it's demonic," I replied. "Anything truly demonic burns in Heaven—unless it has permission to enter. Like me. I would've burned the moment I passed the gates if you hadn't invited me."
He stared at me in silence.
"That essence," he said slowly, "it felt... like him."
I nodded.
"That hair belongs to his heart," I said quietly.
He looked at me, confused and disturbed. "What do you mean?"
I exhaled. This was the part I never thought I'd say aloud.
"Thousands of years ago, just after I was cast out of Heaven... I discovered something. The Demon King... he did something none of us expected. He tore out his own heart."
Ael's eyes flared.
"He used that heart," I continued, "to create a companion. A woman. Beautiful, powerful, connected to him in every way. A living vessel formed from his essence—a piece of himself."
"No..." Ael muttered, backing away slightly.
"Yes," I said. "Her name is Clara."
"Impossible," Ael said, his voice sharp, disbelieving.
"No, it's not," I answered calmly.
He stared at me for a long moment, the weight of the truth pressing down between us. His expression twisted—confusion, shock, and denial all dancing across his face.
"But... how would that help us kill the Demon King?" he asked at last.
I leaned forward, voice low. "I recently discovered something. From an informant. The heart of the Demon King—if it's reverted to its true form—can kill him."
His breath caught. "Its true form?"
"Yes," I said. "Clara. She isn't just a creation. She's the heart. But that heart has a dormant power—its original form. If we can awaken it, she alone could be the one to end him."
Ael stared at me in stunned silence. He looked like his entire world had tilted.
"But... how do we revert her?" he asked. "How do we awaken the true form of the Demon king's heart?"
I lowered my gaze. "I don't know," I admitted. "I've stayed by her side for years... and I still haven't figured it out."
Ael slammed his hand on the table. "Then why are you here?! To waste my time?!"
"No," I said, steadying my voice. "I came to strike a deal with you."
He narrowed his eyes.
"I know how much you hate him," I continued. "Especially after he defeated you in the Celestial War. I saw the rage in your eyes when you fell. I remember the way your wings were torn—"
"Enough," he hissed, eyes glowing now, his aura darkening with fury.
A silence fell between us.
"But you want revenge," I said carefully. "I'm giving you the chance."
His jaw clenched. "And what do you want in return?"
I met his gaze. "When it's all over... I want to be allowed back into Heaven."
His face hardened.
"I want my wings back"
Clara's POV
"Your Majesty, wake up," I heard a soft voice whisper.
My eyes fluttered open to see Lila beside me, her tone gentle and calm.
"The King is waiting," she added with a small smile.
I sat up slowly as she helped me dress, slipping me into a flowing lavender gown with delicate embroidery. I didn't speak much—I was still shaken from last night. Not just by what had happened… but by how I felt about it.
By the time we descended the stairs, the sunlight had already flooded the grand hall, casting warm hues on the golden floors.
"Good morning, my love," Ciel said as he stood to take my hand.
But the moment his fingers brushed mine, memories of last night surged forward—his touch, his lips, his tongue trailing down my neck... I quickly looked away, my cheeks burning.
"What's wrong?" he asked, concern softening his tone.
"Nothing. Nothing," I said quickly, moving past him and taking my seat.
He followed and sat beside me, his eyes lingering on me longer than I liked. We began to eat in silence, but the tension between us was thick—too many unspoken thoughts clouding the air.
As I quietly chewed on a piece of soft bread, I could feel his gaze on me again.
"The banquet is going to happen tomorrow," he said suddenly, his voice calm and measured.
I looked up at him, confused. "Banquet?"
He nodded, a small smile playing on his lips. "Yes. I know you don't want to go, and I understand. But I think… it could be important. Critical, even—for helping you regain your memories."
His words were gentle, but I could feel the weight behind them. Like he knew something I didn't.
I stared at him, unsure how to respond. Was this another trap? Another carefully set illusion?
"I don't see how a party will fix my head," I muttered, looking away.
He chuckled softly, "Not just any party. It's being held in your honor, my queen. Important people will be there—people who knew you… before."
I felt a flicker of unease. Important people? What if they noticed something? What if they realized I wasn't who I was supposed to be?
But then I remembered Lucien's words. "Make him fall in love with you. Get close. Play along."
I swallowed hard and nodded slowly. "Fine. I'll go."
His smile widened, and for a brief moment, it almost looked… genuine. "You'll look beautiful," he said. "Lila will help you prepare."
I looked down at my plate again. My appetite had vanished.