the demon Prince's accidental bride

The ballroom turned into chaos.

From the shattered mirror, a black, wraith-like creature emerged—skeletal hands clawing at the air, its face a featureless void. The nobles screamed, some teleporting away instantly, others transforming into their true demonic forms in a panic.

Lucien didn't move an inch.

His black wings unfurled in a crackle of dark flame, his eyes now glowing crimson. He raised one hand and summoned a swirling orb of violet fire.

Talia clung to a pillar, watching wide-eyed. "Tell me this is part of the party entertainment!"

"It's a soul echo," a deep voice said beside her.

She turned to see Prince Vael, arms crossed, looking entirely unimpressed. "Someone trapped a tortured spirit inside the mirror and let it loose. Creative... but crude."

Talia ducked as the soul echo screeched—a sound like nails across every bone in her body—and lunged toward Lucien.

Lucien caught it mid-air with his bare hand, flames wrapping around the creature, burning through shadow and scream alike. The echo howled, twisting violently, but Lucien didn't flinch.

"You're not welcome here," he said coldly, and with a flash of power, the soul echo exploded into black mist.

Silence.

Then applause.

From one single, sarcastic source—Vael.

"Bravo," Vael said lazily. "Very flashy. You always did love the dramatic burn."

Lucien lowered his hand, ignoring his brother, and turned to Talia. "Are you hurt?"

"No," she said, still pressed to the pillar. "But I may never emotionally recover from this evening."

He offered a hand. "You get used to it."

"I'd rather not."

Just then, a little demon girl with pink horns and a frilly gown came running toward them. "Prince Lucien! Lady Talia!"

Talia blinked. "Um. Hi?"

The girl beamed. "You saved us! I want to be just like you!"

Lucien arched an eyebrow. "You want to be a cynical half-demon with commitment issues?"

The girl giggled. "No, silly! I want to burn bad ghosts!"

Talia bent down and smiled. "What's your name, sweetheart?"

"Lulu!"

"Well, Lulu," Talia said, placing a hand on her tiny shoulder. "You are already braver than half the nobles in this room."

Lucien muttered, "She's braver than all of them."

A sudden BOOM! echoed outside the ballroom.

Lucien's smile vanished. "That didn't sound like thunder."

A demon guard rushed in, pale and trembling. "Your Highness! Someone has set the northern courtyard on fire! The sky beasts are restless, and... and someone painted mortal go home on the palace walls in blood."

Vael chuckled. "Charming."

Lucien looked at Talia. "Stay here. I'll—"

"Nope," she said, standing up straighter. "I'm your wife, right? Let's go handle the chaos together."

Lucien paused, watching her with an unreadable expression.

"Fine," he said. "But stay close."

"I always do. Mostly because the last time I didn't, I nearly got eaten by a chair."

They stepped out of the ballroom and into the darkness of the palace halls—flames dancing in the distance, smoke rising from unseen chaos.

As they walked, Talia pulled something from under her dress.

Lucien frowned. "Is that a... butter knife?"

"I named it Kevin," she said proudly. "He's my emotional support weapon."

Lucien sighed. "I married a lunatic."

"And you love it," she shot back, gripping Kevin the butter knife like a sword.

Smoke curled through the marble corridors like it had a purpose.

Talia jogged beside Lucien, clutching Kevin the butter knife like it was a holy relic. Guards and demons ran past them in all directions—some shouting orders, some flailing their arms like chickens on fire.

"Is this a normal Tuesday?" she asked breathlessly.

Lucien didn't answer. His jaw was clenched, eyes scanning the halls like he was hunting for something invisible.

Suddenly—

BOOM!

A giant, winged shadow crashed into the stained-glass ceiling above the grand hallway. The glass exploded, and a monstrous beast—like a dragon fused with a bat—roared as it skidded into the palace floor with a screech.

Talia's mouth fell open. "WHAT. IS. THAT?"

Lucien calmly unsheathed a dagger glowing with ancient runes. "Sky beast. Aggressive when agitated. Likes shiny objects and… princesses."

"Please tell me you're joking."

"I never joke during stampedes."

The sky beast growled, its eyes locking on Talia like she was a chew toy dipped in glitter.

"Oh no. No no no," she whispered, slowly backing away.

The beast lunged.

Lucien tackled her out of the way just in time, rolling them both under a fallen statue. Talia's hair was full of marble dust. Lucien's shirt was ripped at the collar. Kevin the butter knife had flown across the floor and landed heroically in a potted plant.

"I hate this palace," Talia gasped.

Lucien looked at her. "That makes two of us."

Suddenly, a flaming spear flew through the air and struck the beast between the eyes. It roared and staggered back.

"Need help, brother?" came a voice.

Prince Vael stood atop the stairs, his hair flowing, his cloak billowing, and a smug smirk on his face like he had just walked out of a shampoo commercial.

Lucien groaned. "Not now."

Vael jumped down gracefully and flicked his fingers. Two more spears materialized, spinning in the air beside him. "You're welcome."

"I didn't say thank you."

"You never do."

Meanwhile, Talia crawled out from under the statue and grabbed Kevin the butter knife again.

She turned to Lucien. "Quick question—how do you kill a sky beast?"

"You don't," he replied. "You survive it."

"Great."

The beast lunged again, this time toward Vael. The prince dodged, flipped, and landed on its back like some sort of demonic rodeo star.

"I hate that he makes it look easy," Talia muttered.

Lucien used the moment of distraction to summon chains of dark fire, which coiled around the beast's limbs. The monster thrashed, roared, and then, with a final shudder, collapsed into unconsciousness.

The hallway fell silent.

Vael slid off its back, brushed imaginary dust from his shoulder, and grinned. "You're welcome. Again."

Lucien walked up to him. "I had it under control."

Vael raised an eyebrow. "Oh yes, clearly. You were definitely winning while pinned under a statue with your... mortal wife."

Talia interrupted, "I did have a butter knife."

Vael looked at her. "Charming. Does it also do taxes?"

She grinned. "Only on Wednesdays."

Before Lucien could retort, one of the guards stumbled into the hall.

"Your Highness! The council... the elders... they're demanding your presence in the Throne Hall. They say the curse has returned."

Lucien turned sharply. "What curse?"

The guard hesitated. "They wouldn't say. Only that the blood moon has begun to rise."

Talia frowned. "That doesn't sound ominous at all."

Vael's smirk faded. "If it's that curse... then we're all in trouble."

Lucien gave Talia a long, unreadable look. "Stay here."

She crossed her arms. "Not a chance."

"Talia—"

"You said it yourself: I'm your wife now. And I'm tired of being the damsel. I want answers too."

Lucien hesitated… then slowly nodded.

"Fine. But if anything happens—"

"I'll blame Kevin."