2~7

When their son turned a month old - Julian hosted a grand ball, a celebration of the Mondbaie Dukedom having its heir formally introduced to the public, whilst also allowing Julian to interact and mingle with the lesser lords within his new domain.

The Mondbaie Dukedom’s grand hall shimmered with opulence. Crystal chandeliers cast a warm glow on the assembled nobility, their silks and jewels glittering in the light. Musicians played a lively waltz, and the air was thick with the scent of perfume and anticipation. Julian, dressed in a tailored black suit with silver embroidery, stood beside Zefeni, who, despite her recent subjugation, radiated a regal elegance in a gown of deep crimson - and cradled in her arms their infant son Athan, sleepily sill awake.

Julian's eyes slightly lit up the moment he lay eyes on his sister Eira, sashaying into the ballroom with an air of confidence - behind her was Halston, cradling a tiny bundle wrapped warmly in a pink silk blanket.

"Sister, I am glad you could make it... who is this?"

Julian greeted them. He was slightly confused for a pause as his green eyes glanced at the bundle in Halston's arms. Tiny wisps of golden chestnut hair stuck out from the silk cap and sleepy ruby red eyes peered around innocently. Unbeknownst to Julian, it was Eira's newborn daughter, born the same night as Athan.

Eira, after giving a short bow, turned to gently take little Caliste from Halston's embrace. Keeping the baby bound to the soft cotton bundle.

"This is Caliste Cordelia Nishant.. Our very lively daughter.."

She spoke warmly, now holding their baby in her loving arms. Eira's eyes were glowing bright blue, in the response of motherhood and seeing her brother unharmed. This brought Caliste closer for Julian to see. Her small red eyes looked up at her uncle, letting out a soft yawn. Balled fists stretched up, pushing up against her mom seemingly unamused.

"Your nephew - Athan William Wolflace."

Julian responded, trying with all his might not to sock his fist into Halston's face. Eira might've been his older sister for a time. But Julian was still mentally 25 - or rather 35 now given he'd been alive for ten years in this new world. He motioned for his wife to step forward, she was oddly being very civil and 'affectionate' to Julian now. It was clear he had turned the tables on his control freak and abusive wife.

Zefeni, a subtle smile playing on her lips, gracefully glided forward, presenting Athan to Eira and Halston. Her movements were fluid, her demeanor radiating a carefully cultivated warmth that felt… unnatural.

Eira stayed firm, losing her smile at the sight of the she-witch. Only to peer at the sleeping boy consumed in her embrace.

"He looks just like you, when you were that small."

She begrudgingly approached Zefeni just to get a closer look. Safety from her brother and lover made it all the more possible.

Zefeni met Eira’s gaze, her golden eyes gleaming with a carefully veiled amusement. She allowed Eira to examine Athan, offering no resistance, no warmth. It was a calculated move, a display of subservience designed to disarm her sister-in-law.

Athan did look strikingly like his father - which was a good thing for him so hopefully his aunt wouldn't despise him.

"I think I want mother and father to raise him."

Julian said calmly to Eira - throwing his wife off guard. He was still breaking her in and he couldn't risk her negative influence being taught to their son.

A flicker of surprise crossed Zefeni’s face, quickly masked by a practiced composure. Her fingers tightened slightly around Athan, a subtle display of possessiveness. She opened her mouth to protest, but Julian’s sharp gaze silenced her. It was clear he was the one dictating the terms now. Athan was a political pawn, a symbol of the Mondbaie lineage, and Julian was determined to control his upbringing - refusing her initial intention to groom him into a little storm against society.

Eira's brow furrowed, her ice blue eyes glancing up at Julian with a more, disappointed expression.

"Or you both can raise him. Our parents shouldn't bear the burden of raising more whilst dealing with our two siblings."

She murmured, holding onto her dear Caliste closely to herself.

"Don't get me wrong brother... I hate your wife, but.. I disapprove the idea of stripping her child away... your child away."

Julian’s jaw tightened, but he didn’t argue. Eira’s words held a weight he couldn’t ignore. He hadn’t considered the burden he’d be placing on their parents, not with their other children still needing their guidance. And Eira was right – stripping Zefeni of her maternal role entirely felt… excessive, even for him. Not to mention, he was incredibly attached to the little guy already. It was his only child after all.

"Thank you for attending sister - I appreciate your guidance."

He sighed softly.

Eira offered a small, tired smile, relieved to see a flicker of reason in her brother's eyes. She knew Julian was still grappling with the complexities of his situation, and she was glad to offer whatever support she could, even if it meant tolerating the presence of the woman she despised. She shifted Caliste slightly, adjusting the blanket around her daughter.

“Anytime, Julian. Just… be careful.”

She added quietly, her gaze sweeping over Zefeni before returning to her brother’s face.

Athan began to whine softly and Julian immediately took him from his wifes arms, cradling him in one strong arm, knowing Zefeni got quickly irritable whenever their son so much as let out a single cry. She truly was a cold hearted demon.

Caliste cooed slightly, little hands reaching up in a curious manner, both aimed at the lights. Spit bubbles, just absolute gibberish in return to the sounds of her cousin's whines. Eira let out a soft hum, creating two little butterflies to fly around between them. Her daughter's gibberish only increased with a squealing happy coo. One however floated over to Athan, circling over him and Julian to catch the attention of his teary green eyes.

Athan, momentarily distracted by the fluttering butterfly, ceased his whimpering and stared with wide, curious eyes. A small gurgle escaped his lips as he reached for the iridescent insect, his tiny fingers grasping at the air. Julian watched, a genuine smile softening his harsh features. It was a rare moment of peace, a fleeting glimpse of normalcy amidst the chaos of his life. Zefeni, however, remained impassive, her gaze fixed on the assembled nobility, a carefully constructed mask of composure firmly in place.

Julian walked with his sister, both of them cradling their babies and briefly leaving their significant others behind to mingle.

"...she's a piece of work..."

Julian finally admitted under his breath, his jaw clenching tightly.

"Definitely."

Eira didn't hesitate as she spoke, the single word came with a smirk pressing across her lips. It was temporary, fading as they secluded themselves from the ballroom floor.

"I cannot believe you've managed to tame her. You must have **** her true demonic name out or something."

She chuckled sarcastically.

Julian sheepishly looked at his sister, his shoulders shrugging faintly.

"...it wasn't that hard..."

He grumbled.

Eira raised a skeptical eyebrow, her lips curving into a disbelieving smile.

"Not that hard? Julian, she's a demoness who bound her soul to yours! You were married off to her, and now you're… casually diminishing her power?"

She paused, shaking her head in amusement.

"You always were a strange one, brother."

"...I want to at least try to make my marriage work..."

He sighed softly.

"With someone as old as her..."

Eira's words trailed off slightly in thought, shifting her gaze to the ceiling as they walked.

"She's the mother of your child, though there is animosity between you both... appreciate the little things done. You're in a life long commitment, you both can't continue on a path of hatred with each other forever."

Julian nodded slowly, absorbing Eira’s words. She was right, of course. He couldn’t continue to treat Zefeni as an enemy forever, not with Athan caught in the middle. It was a bitter pill to swallow, but he needed to find a way to coexist, to navigate this bizarre new reality.

“I suppose.”

He mumbled, his gaze fixed on Athan, who was now quietly observing the butterflies Eira had conjured.

“It’s just… difficult.”

They continued their stroll, the gentle murmur of conversation and music fading into the background as they focused on their children. Caliste, captivated by the butterflies, gurgled and reached out with tiny hands, while Athan, lulled by the rhythmic movement and Julian’s comforting presence, had drifted off to sleep.

"I could come to love her - honestly. If she'd stop trying to **** and control me..."

Julian muttered.

"Degrading her back will only fuel that ego of hers to challenge back. Hell, even being nice might make her think you're showing mercy, giving idea to slip in and do as she pleases."

Her gaze glanced over at Julian in wonder.

"I don't want to say it but you might be hopeless."

"I don't know... it's like an endless tug of war... we may be growing obsessed with each other."

He joked lightly.

"Sadist."

Eira chuckled faintly. Caliste let out a yawn finally in motion of her mother's movements. Drifting to sleep as the butterfly landed on her.

Julian sat down on a marble engraved bench as they reached the outer balcony. The cool night air tousled his long white hair and feather earring.

"I wrote home about everything. I never received a response... do you think... we should maybe pay our parents a visit?"

He asked softly.

"You know it takes one to three months to deliver letters, right?"

Eira raised a brow, her face clearly showing a hint of distress. Her smile wary, as if she was afraid to let them know of her own baby...

"The last message I sent was when I'd learned you become a Duke. Naturally, I'd recieve a letter just over a month or so from them... father's words toward Halston, are very choiced. "

She chuckled.

"It shouldn't take that long. More like 2 weeks tops if the mail is sent via a magic ship."

Julian appears perplexed, slightly concerned even.

"Magic ship? What magic ship?"

Eira asked in a puzzled manner, since her way of transporting to the capital was more than just pleasant.

"Aunt Thaline - back when she first brought me to the capital, she booked us room and board onto a magical ship that took us across the waters in three days time, given the coast wasn't froze over at the time."

Julian murmured, gently placing a pacifier in his sons mouth. The sleeping boy seemed content with it - another earthly 'experiment item' he'd introduced into this world of his own creation.

"Unbelievable."

Eira muttered with a huff, her cheeks puffed slightly as darkened dreams from those days still haunted her dreams from time to time whenever she slept.

"Five months of snow. Five. That's how long it took us to get here."

She paused momentarily, her grimoire slipping out of its holster to float down in front of herself.

"Granted... we did hit a number of dungeons. Enter a cave when it was cold, find out it has a dungeon or something magical laced inside... it definitely beat waiting out the storms..."

An eerie silence fell from inside the estate ballroom and Julian stood up, his gaze darkening. All the music had ceased and the backdrop of pleasantries and conversations had all but died down.

"Eira."

He muttered softly, one hand straying to the sword on his hip whilst clutching Athan closer to his chest.

"Draw it."

There was a reason why her grimoire had came out on its own. Getting up, vines gathered out from the book - twirling around herself and her baby securely. Her pointed ears twitched, straining to detect any miniscule sound while her wings fluttered in unease.

A wave of icy dread washed over the balcony as the air thickened with a palpable sense of foreboding. The festive atmosphere within the ballroom had been replaced by a chilling stillness, every eye now fixed on a single point near the grand entrance. A figure, cloaked in shadows and radiating an aura of immense power, materialized seemingly from thin air. It was similar to Zefeni's aura, but… different - much much darker.

Julian entrusted his son into the safety of his sister's vines before drawing his sword, lighting it ablaze with his crackling inferno of green flames. He stepped forward, effectively becoming a shield for his sister, son and niece.

"Identify yourself."

Julian commanded firmly. Time seemed to freeze itself around around and everything, leaving Julian the only one able to move at all. The shadowy figure tilted its head, a gesture that sent a shiver down Julian’s spine. It didn’t respond to his demand, instead, a voice, raspy and ancient, echoed within his mind.

“A seeding vessel… a fascinating confluence of power. The Duchess has been busy.”

"How do you know my wife?"

Julian muttered.

The shadowed figure dispersed the darkness around them and lowered their hood. All of the blood immediately rushed to Julian's cock as the intruder revealed themselves to be a butt naked, mouth watering temptress.

"Know her? I created her. I am her mother - Lilith, queen of the succubi."

The figure's voice resonated deep within Julian's psyche, a chilling whisper that carried the weight of centuries. Her words hung in the air, bringing with them an unsettling truth. The queen of the succubi, Zefeni's mother, stood before them in all her terrifying and seductive glory. Her hair was black as night and eyes white as milk. Her complexion radiated a luminous paleness that suited her dusky rose nipples and foot long - flaccid cock, hidden away in its foreskin.

"Oh my, try not to stare - I may not be able to contain myself."

Lilith purred, wrapping a hand around one of her huge breasts and giving it a squeeze in front of him.

Julian could hardly believe his eyes - a woman should not have a cock... but there it was, plain as day, swinging between Lilith's thick thighs with every subtle movement she made. He swallowed hard, his mouth becoming incredibly dry.

"What do you want? You must've come here for something."

Lilith's lips parted into a sly, knowing smile, her milky gaze locked onto Julian's. She took a step forward, the air around her shimmering with raw power.

"I've come to see my daughter's handiwork."

She purred, her eyes roaming over Julian with an unsettling mix of curiosity and hunger.

"And perhaps, sample a taste myself."

"I'm straight."

Julian insisted firmly.

Lilith chuckled, the sound like the rustling of leaves in an autumn wind.

"Oh, my dear boy."

She said, her voice dripping with amusement.

"I don't much care for your... preferences. My interest in you is far more... important."

She took another step closer, her eyes gleaming with a predatory light.

Julian's declaration still hung in the air, a clear boundary set before the queen of the succubi. Lilith's smile didn't waver, instead, it broadened, her milky eyes twinkling with mischief.

"Oh, my dear boy."

She cooed, her voice a sultry whisper that seemed to caress his very soul.

"You may be straight as an arrow, but I am the archer who bends the bow."

Lilith sashayed over to him and caressed his jaw gently, tracing her thumb along the faint stubble with a small smirk.

"I want you as my husband dear one."

She said directly.

Julian hesitated, his brow arching at her. He'd never pictured himself gay or bisexual in his past life - but Lilith was a queen. Could marrying her ensure he rose in rank as well? Polygamy was the norm in this world anyway.

Lilith's fingers continued their exploration, trailing down the side of his neck, her touch as light as a feather.

"Think of the power, the prestige."

She murmured, her voice weaving a seductive spell.

"With me by your side, you could rule more than just a dukedom. You could have empires bowing at your feet."

Lilith's hand slid further down, her fingers dancing along the collar of his shirt. Her eyes, white and devoid of pupils, held his gaze, entrancing him with the promise of untold power.

"You carry the blood of two S-Ranked adventurers, and now you've been chosen by my daughter. Imagine what you could achieve with the favor of the succubi queen."

"I will not be your plaything..."

Julian murmured softly.

Lilith's hand paused, her expression shifting to one of mild surprise at his words.

"Plaything?"

She echoed, her tone amused yet patronizing.

"My dear Julian, I have no interest in playthings. They are fleeting, disposable. I offer you a partnership, an alliance that transcends mere physicality."

She leaned in closer to whisper against his ear.

"I give you power over me..."

She whispered her true demonic soul name into his ear, causing a runic collar to tattoo itself around her neck, binding her to his will.

Julian's eyes widened at the sudden appearance of the runic collar around Lilith's neck, a tangible sign of her submission to his will. The Queen of the Succubi, bound by her true name, stood before him, her expression one of serene acceptance.

"I will take you as my wife then. But only if you discipline Zefeni. She is your daughter after all."

Lilith's lips parted in a slow, deliberate smile, her white eyes reflecting the gravity of Julian's demand.

"Very well."

She agreed, her voice carrying the weight of her promise.

"I will discipline Zefeni... as my daughter, and as your wife."

She extended her hand in the direction of her daughter. Time unfroze briefly around Zefeni before Lilith absorbed her daughter, wiping her clean from the plain of existence.

The air around Julian rippled with the aftermath of Lilith's action, the sudden absence of Zefeni leaving a void in the room. Lilith's hand lowered, her gaze never leaving Julian's.

"It is done."

She stated simply, the power behind her words resonating within the walls of the estate.

Julian didn't feel particularly any loss... it probably made him heartless... but their relationship had just been so toxic.

"I thank you..."

His green eyes peered into Lilith's as he sheathed his sword as a sign of trust and extended his hand to her.

"I will marry you."

Julian's words echoed in the silence that followed, a solemn vow hanging between them. Lilith's gaze softened, a hint of genuine warmth seeping into her otherwise cold expression. She placed her hand in his, her fingers intertwining with his own in a silent acceptance of his proposal.

"Good... come then... to the underworld with me. My subjects shall meet their new king..."

As their hands clasped, a vortex of shadows swirled around them, the very fabric of reality bending to Lilith's will. The estate ballroom faded away, replaced by the opulent throne room of the succubi queen's underground realm. The walls were adorned with intricate carvings and pulsating veins of lava that cast a warm, seductive glow over the space. A throne made of polished obsidian and bone stood at the far end, with two smaller thrones flanking it.

"I trust my sister will care for my son as if he were her own."

Julian murmured. Time in its own was a very unstable thing between the mortal realm and underworld. So he was readily prepared to not see his family anytime again soon.

Julian's words echoed in the cavernous throne room, a soft murmur that seemed to resonate with the pulsating lava light. Lilith turned to him, her white eyes reflecting the flickering glow.

"Your trust is well-placed."

She assured him, her voice a soothing whisper.

"Eira is more than capable of caring for your son. She is, after all, of kind heart and noble blood herself..."