NOVPUBThe citadel had fallen quiet.
The courtyard training had ended hours ago. Sariel had gone somewhere to nap—or annoy someone. Velvet was reading old assassination novels in the sun. Ciela meditated. Levia bathed. Erika sulked. Asmodeus had seen it all in passing, but none of it held his attention.
Not the politics.
Not the letter from Grigor.
Not even the way Sariel had pressed against him earlier.
He was thinking about the girl who hadn't spoken to him once in three days.
Riel.
She'd vanished after training. Again. She always vanished these days.
Not dramatically—she didn't cry, or shout, or pout like Erika. She just... faded. Her figure blended in with the crowd, as if to avoid his glance.
It bothered him more than it should've.
She wasn't loud, nor powerful.
But he couldn't forget her, and the things they shared over the past year. Now with her own body. He assumed she'd want to solidify their bond and relationship. And he hated how oblivious she was. So looked for her to deal with the issue. 𝒏𝒐𝒗𝒑𝒖𝒃.𝙘𝒐𝒎
She hadn't drifted away because she lost interest.
She was punishing herself.
It wasn't hard to guess why with the look on her face. The moment she'd come back to herself after nearly killing him with her own hands, he'd never forget it.
No fear or confusion.
Just devastation.
He found her in the greenhouse.
A place constructed after destroying Mephisto and thinking about his daughters.
It was quiet there, always warmer than the cold halls, and thick with the floral scent of sweet flowers and bitter pollen and the buzz of hidden insects. Moss coated the ceiling weaving around the lights that hung down, making a fantastical picture.
Riel on the bench looked like a princess, knees tucked into her chest, arms clung around them as she remained still.
It wasn't until he came close that she finally spoke after trembling.
"I didn't know you would come her...."
"Sorry, if I startled you."
"No..."
She looked up at him with wet eyes. "You didn't, Master."
Asmodeus gripped her shoulders tightly. He saw her dilated pupils, the sweat dripping down her neck, and the tremble of her shoulders.
Riel's fear and rejection hurt more than any blade... "Must you hate me?"
The sudden comment caused a change in her demeanour.
"Eh, how could you think such a thing!?"
"Because you keep avoiding me, and quiver like a sacred rabbit when I touched you."
"N-No... that's not it!"
"I just."
Her voice faded as she lost steam. Risa's eyes opened wider, watching Asmodeus, before turning away. "I've been thinking, about what happened..." A whisper lacking confidence. "The way you looked at me after it ended. You didn't flinch. You didn't shout or blame me. You just… held me. But I could feel it. The weight. The hesitation."
"I wasn't afraid of you."
"I was."
Asmodeus brushed back his hair and flicked her forehead.
"Ouch! What was that for!?"
"Idiot. Weren't you supposed to be a mature succubus as old as my mother?"
Riel looked up. Her eyes were rimmed red. Tired. Guilt and dark thoughts hollowed her out from the inside. "..."
He sat beside he, and sighed, letting her lean on him. Quietly.
"Why didn't you come sooner...." Riel complained in a quiet voice. "And you didn't seem worried."
"Don't give me that, you are the one that hid away."
"How!?"
Asmodeus enjoyed her complaint and emotions. He couldn't stop teasing and pushing her buttons. Riel was cute. That was something he noticed from their earlier meetings, despite being an old succubus.
"Running off with Sariel whenever you could, hiding in the tower to cry."
"I didn't cry, you stupid man!"
"Then why did you cry every time you passed the training field?"
That stopped her.
She turned and grabbed Asmodeus and shouted. "Because I don't know if I'm allowed to keep loving you!"
Her shout echoed through the greenhouse.
Then silence.
Asmodeus didn't move. He just let her cling to him, small hands grabbing his collar like she wanted to shake him, push him, pull him, something.
The weight in her voice lingered. That fear. That helpless, quiet fear that maybe she didn't deserve him anymore.
"…Who told you that you needed permission?" he asked.
She blinked. Her mouth opened, then closed. Her hands loosened slightly.
"I nearly killed you," she muttered, voice hoarse. "I nearly ripped out your heart. If she hadn't—if you hadn't stopped me…"
"You didn't."
"I would have."
"You didn't," he said again, quieter this time.
But she didn't accept that. Couldn't.
Riel lowered her head until her forehead rested against his chest. Her voice trembled like her fingers did, still curled in the fabric at his collar.
"I should have felt proud," she whispered. "When I returned. I should've run to you. I should've felt like I earned it… regaining my body. My life."
She clenched her hands tighter, voice warping around the words.
"But I only felt sick."
Asmodeus didn't interrupt.
Not yet.
"I can still taste your blood. I still remember what it felt like to dig into you and want to keep going. Something inside me wanted to finish it. And that feeling… hasn't gone away."
That last part was what twisted the blade.
Not the pain, but the honesty. Yet his response caused the succubus to blush, and she slapped his thigh while biting her lips.
"Well... I want to dig something inside you too."
Then he chuckled.
Her face became red from her cheeks to the tips of her pointed ears. She slapped his thigh, not hard enough to feel the tension in his leg. "Don't ruin it, you bastard," she bit her lip to hide the smile at the corner of her mouth.
"I'm serious," his voice calm.
"If you want to keep crying in my arms, fine. But you're mine. And if I want to touch you, kiss you, fill you until you forget your name, I will."
She whispered, "You're such a disaster."
Her voice muffled against his, "I'm trying. I can't say all that sentimental stuff without sounding like a fool."
"You did well."
"…Liar."
"Want me to show you how much I missed you?"
He smiled—a slow, wicked thing that curled like smoke, like temptation. And for a moment, she let herself believe it. Let herself fall for the heat in his eyes, the way his thumb stroked her waist like she was something precious he'd nearly lost.
Then she caught herself and blurted, "Don't think having sex with me will fix everything!"
But the words cracked halfway out. Her legs had already shifted against him, thighs tense, drawn in. Her hands were fisted in his shirt. She was trembling, not from fear, but need.
Asmodeus saw it all.
This side of her—soft, shaken, unsure—was new. He remembered her as proud. Regal. Sharp-eyed and composed. But now that she had her own body, her freedom, something else was surfacing. The woman beneath the chains. The girl who had waited a thousand years to be touched without shame.
Asmodeus grinned.
This was a side of Riel he'd never seen. He always remembered her regal and beautiful side, but now... since they were physically together. Her vulnerable and feminine sides began to show more and more.
"You're right," he said, his voice low and smooth, like heat rolling under her skin. "It won't fix anything."
Leaning closer, he slid a hand down the back of her neck, fingers brushing her hair just enough to make her shiver.
"But I'm still going to fuck you."
Vulgar and honest... the words he might never have said to the original succubus.
He could have hidden it. Could have wrapped the truth in sweeter words. But that would've been the real cruelty.
To Asmodeus, Sariel, and this version of her carried a special place in his heart, guiding and helping him endure when things became hard. She rarely complained, despite being locked away. For thousands of years, Riel waited for him.
And if he couldn't show her how deeply he wanted her—how much she meant, not as a symbol, but as a woman—then what had all that waiting been for?
Riel was a succubus... so, of course, their method of showing affection was different to humans.
Riel's arms were still wrapped around his neck when Asmodeus shifted her into his lap, his fingers drawing slow circles at the small of her back. Her lips hovered near his, breath uneven, eyes glossy but steady.
For the first time in days, she looked like she wanted to stay.
That was when he felt it — the slight change in the air. A ripple of magic, too familiar to mistake.
"Master~ You always start without me."
Sariel's voice floated in like a breeze soaked in perfume.
She leaned against the greenhouse arch, one hip cocked, wings flicking behind her lazily. Her outfit shimmered between illusion and reality — scandalous for one second, conservative the next.
Riel didn't move. She didn't even glare. But her grip on him tightened just enough to make him smirk.
Sariel pouted, walking forward. "You're always softer with her."
"And you're always louder," he said dryly.
When Sariel came close and stood beside Riel, the contrast struck him.
One with skin like warm dusk. The other was like moonlight on water.
Same face. Same body. Same eyes.
But together?
'I want to see them with their hips lined up...'
