Chapter 1: Congratulations, You Married Failure.
Marriage was supposed to be the happiest day of someone’s life.
Lucien Dracul Aethernis couldn’t stop wondering whose cruel joke that saying had been.
The Grand Hall of House Aethernis smelled like incense and expensive cruelty.
Golden flames rose from the altar, illuminating the vast Marriage Hall of the Demon Capital.
Thousands watched in absolute silence.
Archdukes.
Dukes.
Clan Patriarchs.
Young geniuses.
Representatives from every major race of the Demon Continent.
Not one of them had come to celebrate(well except maybe a few).
They had come to witness a political burial.
Lucien Dracul Aethernis stood at the altar in his ceremonial robes.
Black and red. Classic Vampire colors.
Colors that used to mean something.
Three women stood beside him.
His wives.
As of eleven minutes ago.
He glanced sideways.
Aurelia Astrax stood ramrod straight.
Once hailed as a genius among the Asuras, but now stood here with shattered mana veins and a broken core.
Short scarlet hair.
Sky-blue eyes.
A posture that looked like she was still on a battlefield instead of at her own wedding.
She hadn’t blinked in a while.
Next to her, Seraphina Lilith kept her eyes down.
Long silver hair.
Pink eyes.
A succubus once hailed as the next Matriarch of House Lilith.
Her bloodline had turned against her, leaving her unable to wield even a fraction of the overwhelming power she was born with.
Currently she had her hands folded like she was apologizing to the floor itself.
And at the end, arms crossed, chin lifted like she dared anyone to say something,
Evelisse Noctis.
Half Fallen Angel and half human with no talent or bloodline worth speaking of.
Midnight black hair.
Golden eyes.
A pair of folded black wings hidden beneath a ceremonial cloak.
One black wing twitching slightly, like it wanted to punch someone on her behalf.
Lucien exhaled slowly.
Four disgraced bloodlines trying to bury their failures in a single political arrangement.
"Well. This is my life now." he murmured over his breath.
’Three wives. Zero talent. One weak bloodline. Great start.’
The officiant finished the final chant. Threads of silver light wrapped around all four of their wrists, sinking into skin, then vanishing.
The marriage contract concluded with their souls linked together permanently.
No divorce. No escape. No matter how strong you got, breaking that bond would give such a backlash that nobody would consider breaking it.
’Forever,’ Lucien thought. ’That’s a big word to use.’
He almost laughed.
He didn’t, and definitely not here.
Then Archduke Aethernis rose from his seat at the head of the hall.
Lucien’s father.
The man had never once looked proud of him. Today wasn’t about to break that streak.
"Attention," the Archduke said, voice carrying across the hall without effort. "As of this moment, my son Lucien is no longer an heir to House Aethernis."
Murmurs rippled through the crowd like wind through dry grass.
"He is stripped of succession rights, stripped of the family crest, and stripped of the Aethernis name in all matters of inheritance."
Lucien kept his face blank.
’Wow! Not even a warning. Nice. Efficient. I respect the hustle.’
"He has awakened no talent," the Archduke continued. "His bloodline is an embarrassment to this house. And now he has married himself to three brides even the lowest merchant families wouldn’t accept."
Laughter. Not polite laughter. The kind that didn’t bother hiding itself.
A young noble in deep purple robes stood, wine cup in hand, grinning like this was the best party he’d been to all year.
"An asura with no mana core," he said, gesturing lazily at Aurelia.
"A succubus who can’t even use her own bloodline." A nod toward Seraphina.
"And a half-breed with nothing at all." His eyes landed on Evelisse last, lingering a moment too long.
"Congratulations, Lucien. Four trash finally found each other."
The hall erupted.
Lucien felt Aurelia go rigid beside him. Not from hurt.
From the effort of not putting her fist through the man’s teeth.
Seraphina’s hands tightened in her sleeves. Her lips moved, a silent apology, probably aimed at Lucien, as if this was somehow her fault too.
Evelisse just stared straight ahead, jaw locked, wings pulled in tight like she was trying to disappear inside them.
’Nobody’s laughing at this wedding but them,’ Lucien thought.
’Cool. Cool, cool, very cool.’
He should’ve felt something. Rage, maybe. Shame.
Mostly he just felt tired.
Eighteen years of waiting for a system, a cheat, a Mythical bloodline or talent awakening, anything and this was where it landed him.
Publicly disowned, married to three women who’d been sold off by their own families, standing in a hall full of people laughing at all four of them like it was some circus show.
’Guess the golden finger really isn’t coming,’ he thought. ’Cool. Cool. Totally fine with this.’
He was not totally fine with this.
The Archduke gestured, and a servant stepped forward holding a small wooden box. Inside, a deed.
"You will receive the Thornfield Estate," the Archduke said, "as befits the mercy of this house. Consider it your final gift from the Aethernis name."
’Final gift my ass. More like first gift and sure, let’s call being kicked out of the city a "gift".’
Lucien took the box without a word. His fingers brushed the wood.
’Must be small. Remote. And probably falling apart too.’
’Perfect. Absolutely perfect.’
The Archduke sat back down, already done with him. That was the worst part, not the cruelty, but how ’bored’ he was. Like disowning his own son was a minor scheduling item before lunch.
Lucien turned to his wives. "Shall we?"
Aurelia moved first, without hesitation, like she’d rather be anywhere that wasn’t this hall.
Seraphina followed half a step behind, eyes still on the floor.
Evelisse walked past him without looking over, muttering just loud enough for him to hear:
"Don’t get the wrong idea. I’m only walking this way because the door’s over there."
’Right. Of course. Obviously.’
They made it to the carriage waiting outside. No family sendoff. No well-wishes.
Just a driver who wouldn’t meet their eyes and four people about to share a very small, very awkward ride to nowhere.
Lucien climbed in last. The door shut behind him with a soft, final click that felt heavier than it should have.
Inside, the silence was the loudest thing in the world.
Aurelia sat across from him, spine still perfectly straight, staring out the window like she was cataloguing an enemy’s territory. After a long moment, she spoke flat, direct, no wasted words.
"If you don’t want this marriage," she said, "tell me now. I won’t hold it against you."
’Straight to the point. I like that, actually.’
"I do want it," Lucien said. "Turns out I’m suddenly very fond of you three. Weird how public humiliation does that."
Aurelia studied him for a second, like she was checking whether that was a joke. She didn’t smile. But she didn’t look away either.
Seraphina’s voice came softer, from the corner. "I’m sorry," she said, hands twisting in her lap.
"Marrying me only... lowers your standing further. I know that."
"Seraphina."
She looked up.
"You didn’t do anything," Lucien said.
"Some noble in a bad robe called us all trash. That’s not exactly a lowering my standing if I even had any before. So no worries"
That got the smallest twitch at the corner of her mouth. Not quite a smile. Close, though.
Evelisse stared out the opposite window, arms crossed, wings tucked in like armor.
"Don’t misunderstand," she said, before anyone asked. "I’m only here because I didn’t have a choice. Don’t think this means anything."
’Got it.’ he thought, while filing that under ’things Evelisse says while clearly meaning the opposite.’
"Wouldn’t dream of it," Lucien said instead, out loud.
She glanced at him, suspicious, like she’d expected an argument and didn’t know what to do without one.
The carriage rattled forward. Through the small window, the towers of the Demon Capital slid past tall, gleaming and indifferent.
Somewhere behind them, the wedding hall was probably already back to serving wine and gossip like nothing had happened.
Lucien leaned his head back against the seat.
’No talent. No bloodline. No family. Three wives who all think their lives just ended.’
’And somehow I’m the optimist in this carriage. Great. Love that for me.’
He didn’t know yet about the silver-blue interface waiting behind his eyes, dormant, counting down to its first flicker of light.
He didn’t know that somewhere in Aurelia’s shattered mana core, something was about to notice him.
That Seraphina’s warring bloodline was about to meet something that could finally quiet the war.
That Evelisse’s dormant blood carried a secret even she didn’t know was there.
He just knew the road ahead was long, the estate was probably falling apart, and three women who’d been thrown away just like him were now, for better or worse, his.
By the time the carriage passed the outer gates of the Demon Capital, the story had already spread.
Nobles whispered it over wine.
Servants passed it in hallways.
Somewhere, a bored scribe wrote it into a gossip column that would be read across three provinces by morning.
’Four disgraces.’
That was the title the Demon Capital gave them, before their carriage had even left the capital city.
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[A/N: What do you think of this starting Chapter?
🧐]