Chapter 147: Perfume, Protocol, And A Visit To The Queen
Chapter 147: Perfume, Protocol, And A Visit To The Queen
A soft, disappointed sound escaped Seraphielle’s husband’s throat—low and aching, like a sigh that had hoped to be something else.
"Oh," he said quietly.
He lowered himself back into his seat, wings folding with a muted rustle of feathers. The silver in his eyes dulled just a little, as though someone had turned down the light in them.
"I truly thought," he admitted, rubbing a hand over his face, "that this was it. I thought the Queen was finally calling you to accept your advances."
Seraphielle didn’t answer immediately.
She folded the letter carefully, smoothing the black parchment with her fingers before setting it aside. Then she nodded once, slow and resigned.
"I thought so too," she said softly. "I wouldn’t have torn it open so eagerly otherwise."
Across the chamber, Velira’s little face scrunched up in visible offense.
She puffed out her cheeks, folded her arms across her chest with all the seriousness a child could muster, and stomped one foot against the marble floor.
"That doesn’t make sense," Velira declared. "Mama is very beautiful."
Her parents both turned to her.
Velira lifted her chin proudly, wings fluttering with indignation. "So how could the Queen not want her?"
Seraphielle blinked.
Then she laughed—soft, surprised, genuinely amused.
She crouched slightly so she was closer to her daughter’s eye level, brushing a finger under Velira’s chin.
"That’s very sweet of you, love," she said warmly. "But the Queen is more beautiful than I am. She’s the only one in the realm who is more beautiful than I am."
Velira froze.
Her eyes widened.
"...Oh," she said, suddenly thoughtful.
Seraphielle’s husband let out a low chuckle, the sadness easing just a fraction. He rose again, walking over to them, and placed a hand at Seraphielle’s waist.
"Still," he said gently, "you should go meet her."
Seraphielle looked up at him.
He continued, voice steady but hopeful. "You’ve already met her before. There’s no reason for you to cling to protocol the way I must. I can only see her properly after the ball." His mouth curved wryly. "You, on the other hand, have already broken that particular wall."
Velira’s eyes lit up like twin stars.
"Go?" she repeated. "You mean to the palce?"
Guilidern, Seraphielle’s husband barely had time to reply before Velira said loudly.
"I WANT TO GO TOO!"
Velira jumped straight up, wings flaring, nearly dropping her stuffed bunny in the process.
Seraphielle laughed again, standing fully now. She turned to her husband, smiling softly, and leaned up to press a quick kiss to his lips.
He sighed into it, utterly undone, silver eyes shimmering like a fool hopelessly in love.
"I love you," Seraphielle murmured against him. "I’ll go to the palace."
Then she turned to Velira, her tone immediately shifting into something fond but firm.
"And you," she said, tapping her daughter’s nose lightly, "if you are going with me, then you are going to change your dress and look more responsible for the Queen."
Velira gasped dramatically.
"Responsible?" she echoed.
Then she grinned.
A second later, the air changed.
It was subtle—soft, floral, warm. A delicate scent bloomed through the chamber like freshly crushed petals and sun-warmed silk. It wrapped around them gently, sweet and comforting.
Seraphielle inhaled instinctively.
Her husband did as well.
To them, it smelled like expensive perfume.
Nyssara stiffened.
"...Velira," she warned quietly.
Velira blinked. "Oops."
She clapped both hands over her mouth.
The scent lingered, shimmering faintly in the air before slowly fading.
Nyssara exhaled through her nose. "You did it again."
"I didn’t mean to," Velira said earnestly. "I just got excited."
Seraphielle waved a hand lightly. "It’s fine. No harm done."
Nyssara shot her a look. "It would be harm if any lesser demon were nearby."
Velira immediately straightened. "I’m sorry."
Nyssara’s expression softened. She held out a hand. "Come on. Let’s get you dressed little lady."
Velira grabbed her hand—
And immediately tugged her forward.
"This way!" Velira said brightly, already leading.
Nyssara stumbled half a step. "...You don’t even know where I was going."
"Yes I do," Velira replied confidently.
"You absolutely do not."
"I absolutely do."
Nyssara sighed. "Of course you do."
Velira’s chambers were already alive with quiet motion when they arrived.
Several maids—lesser succubi and incubi—paused mid-task and immediately bowed.
"Lady Velira," they greeted.
Velira waved grandly. "Hello."
The process of dressing her was meticulous despite her size.
They chose a gown of soft lilac silk, layered with translucent fabric that shimmered faintly in the light. The sleeves were short and elegant, embroidered with tiny silver threads shaped like flowers. A darker ribbon cinched the waist gently, and small crystal accents were fastened near her shoulders.
Her hair was brushed carefully, flowers re-woven with precision, and a simple silver clasp was added at her collar—nothing overwhelming, just enough to mark her as noble.
Velira admired herself briefly in the mirror.
"I look very responsible," she decided.
Nyssara nodded. "Yes you do, little lady."
Velira beamed.
She bolted from the room the moment she was finished.
"MAMA!"
Back in the grand chamber, Seraphielle stood before a massive mirror, its gilded frame etched with ancient designs.Guilidern stood behind her, hands resting at her waist as he admired her reflection with open reverence.
"Unfair," he murmured. "Entirely unfair."
Seraphielle raised an eyebrow. "Oh?"
"You should be illegal," he said seriously. "Or at least heavily regulated."
She laughed softly.
"You are breathtaking," he continued, brushing his fingers along her arms. "Radiant. The Queen herself will have to squint just to look at you."
"That’s what I’m going for," Seraphielle said with a smile.
At that moment, Velira barreled into the room.
Seraphielle turned just in time to catch her as she launched herself forward.
"There you are," Seraphielle laughed, hugging her gently.
Another butler bowed deeply nearby as Velira wiggled in her mother’s arms.
Seraphielle pressed a kiss to her hair, then set her down.
She blew her husband a playful kiss.
"Behave while I’m gone," she told him.
He gave a sly smile. "I always behave."
Seraphielle just shook her head then told Velira’d hand in hers.
"Well then," Seraphielle said, eyes bright, smile wickedly soft, "off to the palace we go."