Princess of Hell

The familiar sensation of dimensional travel faded as Aria and I materialized in the palace's grand entrance hall. The obsidian floors gleamed under the light of crystalline chandeliers, and I felt that strange mix of belonging and alienation that always accompanied my returns home.

"Princess Lily!" Anastasia's voice rang out across the vast space as she hurried toward us, her crimson skin practically glowing with excitement. Her small wings fluttered behind her as she approached, yellow eyes bright with genuine joy.

"Anastasia," I smiled, genuinely pleased to see my devoted servant. "How have things been?"

"Wonderful now that you've returned, Princess," she beamed, then glanced curiously at Aria.

Before I could make introductions, measured footsteps echoed across the marble. I turned to see a tall figure approaching—a devil with sharp, aristocratic features and perfectly styled black hair. He wore an immaculate black butler's uniform that somehow managed to look both professional and elegant. His crimson eyes held a warmth that contrasted with his formal bearing.

"Princess Lily," he said, offering a precise bow. "Welcome home. I am Vex Nihil, head butler of the Royal Palace. Your parents informed me of your… condition, so I thought it best to reintroduce myself properly."

Something stirred in the depths of my mind as I looked at him—a fragment, barely there. A flash of being much younger, struggling with a fork while this same demon patiently corrected my grip. "No, Princess. Hold it like this. A lady never grips her utensils like weapons."

I blinked, the memory dissolving like smoke. Vex was watching me with polite concern.

"Of course," I managed, pushing aside the confusion. "This is my friend, Ariasielle Nova."

Aria practically bounced on her toes, waving enthusiastically. "Hi there! I'm Lily's roommate at the Academy!"

Vex's expression didn't change, but he offered her a smile that revealed nothing of his thoughts. "Miss Nova. A pleasure."

"Is there anything you or your friend require, Princess?" Vex continued, his attention returning to me.

"I've come to speak with my father," I said. "Is he available?"

"Lord Lucifer is currently working in his study. Shall I announce your arrival?"

"No need," I replied. "I'll see him shortly, but first I want to show Aria around the palace."

Aria's eyes lit up like a child promised candy. "Really? Oh, this is going to be amazing!"

I couldn't help but laugh at her enthusiasm. "Don't get too excited. My parents are practical people. Only the public spaces are designed to impress visitors."

"Don't spoil the fun!" Aria pouted, crossing her arms.

"I just don't want you to be disappointed," I said, though I felt a smile tugging at my lips. "Though I suppose they are… grander than anything at Academy."

Anastasia stepped forward, falling into step beside me with practiced ease. As my personal servant, she was required to accompany me everywhere unless I specifically dismissed her.

As we began walking through the corridors, my mind wandered to that strange memory fragment. The more I thought about it, the more I realized how those lessons had shaped me. Even as Liam, I'd always had decent table manners—something I'd attributed to the strict discipline of the orphanage. But now I wondered if those ingrained habits had deeper roots.

The way I held silverware, the unconscious straightening of my posture when seated, the automatic pause before speaking in formal situations—all of it suddenly seemed less like orphanage training and more like aristocratic conditioning.

"Lily?" Aria's voice broke through my contemplation. "You're being all broody again."

"Sorry," I shook my head, focusing on the present. "Just thinking."

We passed through several corridors, each more elaborate than Academy hallways but maintaining a certain austere elegance. The palace favoured function over frivolity, though the quality of materials and craftsmanship spoke to immense wealth and power.

"The throne room is that way," I gestured down a side passage. "And the main dining hall is—"

"Ooh, what's that?" Aria interrupted, pointing toward an archway that led to what looked like gardens beyond. Without waiting for an answer, she grabbed my hand and started pulling me toward it. "Come on, let's explore!"

"Aria, wait—" I protested, but found myself being dragged along by her infectious enthusiasm.

Anastasia hurried to keep pace behind us as Aria led us through the archway into the inner gardens, her excitement bubbling over despite my warnings about the palace's practical nature. I couldn't help but smile at her boundless energy, even as I wondered what other memories are left to uncover.

* * *

After what felt like hours of Aria's enthusiastic exploration—during which she'd marvelled at everything from the crystal fountains to the obsidian sculptures—we finally made our way toward my father's study. The palace corridors seemed quieter in this wing, more serious. Even Aria's boundless energy had dimmed slightly as we approached the seat of Hell's power.

"His study is just ahead," I murmured, gesturing toward the heavy oak doors at the end of the hallway.

Aria nodded, her usual chatter replaced by an uncharacteristic silence. I could practically feel the nervous energy radiating from her as we walked. Meeting the King of Hell would intimidate anyone, even a succubus who'd spent the morning declaring she'd charm him with her wit.

We stopped before the imposing doors, their dark wood carved with intricate patterns that seemed to shift in the dim light. I raised my hand to knock, but before my knuckles could make contact with the wood, my father's voice carried through the door.

"Come in."

I exchanged a glance with Aria, whose eyes had widened slightly. Even she seemed impressed by that display of awareness. I pushed open the heavy door, and we stepped inside.

The study was exactly as I remembered from my recent visits—shelves lined with ancient tomes, a massive desk dominating the centre of the room, and the subtle scent of old parchment and something distinctly otherworldly. My father sat behind his desk, quill in hand, though his attention was already focused on us.

Lucifer Morningstar looked every inch the ruler of Hell, even in the relative informality of his study. His presence filled the room without effort, commanding attention through sheer force of being. When his gaze fell on Aria, I watched her straighten unconsciously, her usual playful demeanour replaced by something approaching reverence.

"Father," I said, stepping forward. "Thank you for seeing us."

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His eyes moved from Aria to me, and I caught the faintest hint of amusement in his expression. "What brings you here today, Lily?" The question was asked more as a formality than genuine inquiry.

"It's about what I wrote in the letter," I replied, then gestured toward my friend. "And I thought it would be a good opportunity to introduce one of my friends to you."

Aria seemed to remember herself suddenly, dropping into what could charitably be called a curtsy, though her lack of a dress made it somewhat awkward. "Your Majesty," she said, her voice pitched higher than usual. "I'm Ariasielle Nova. It's an incredible honor to meet you."

I bit back a smile at seeing Aria—who'd spent the entire walk here planning witty conversation topics—reduced to formal stammering. The trauma of meeting the actual ruler of Hell had apparently overridden her natural confidence.

My father studied her for a long moment, and I could see him taking her measure. His gaze was neither harsh nor particularly welcoming—simply evaluating. Finally, he set down his quill and leaned back in his chair.

"You don't need to be so stiff in front of me," he said, his tone carrying just enough warmth to ease the tension in the room. "Any friend of my daughter is welcome here."

Aria's shoulders relaxed slightly, though she still maintained a respectful posture. "Thank you, Your Majesty."

"Please, sit," my father continued, gesturing toward the chairs arranged in front of his desk. "Both of you. Lily, I assume this visit concerns the magical manifestation you described in your letter?"

I settled into one of the chairs, grateful that he'd moved straight to business. Aria took the seat beside me, her earlier nervousness giving way to curious interest as she realized she was about to witness a discussion between the King of Hell and his daughter about mysterious magical abilities.

"Yes," I said. "I was hoping you might have some insight into what happened."

* * *

My father's expression grew more serious as he considered my question. "Understanding and developing your magical potential isn't something we can accomplish in a single afternoon, Lily. It will require regular sessions—perhaps several times a week for the foreseeable future."

I felt a flutter of excitement at the prospect, though I tried to keep my expression neutral. Regular visits with my father, learning about abilities I barely understood—it was exactly what I'd hoped for when I'd written that letter.

"However," he continued, his gaze shifting to Aria, "I imagine our discussions will be rather technical and potentially quite tedious for someone not directly involved."

Aria straightened in her chair, clearly trying to appear interested despite the obvious dismissal. "Oh, I don't mind—"

My father held up a hand with a slight smile. "Nonsense. You're a guest in my palace, and I won't have you sitting through hours of magical theory." He paused, considering. "Tell me, Miss Nova, what interests you most? Art? Combat? Perhaps you'd enjoy a tour of the palace's more… exclusive areas?"

Before Aria could respond, I heard the soft whisper of footsteps, and Vex appeared in the doorway as if he'd been waiting just outside for this exact moment. His timing was so perfect it was almost supernatural.

"You summoned me, Your Majesty?" Vex inquired with his characteristic blend of formality and efficiency.

"Indeed. Please escort Miss Nova to the palace's recreational facilities. The combat training grounds, the enchanted gardens, the art galleries—whatever might interest her. Ensure she has full access and anything she might require."

Aria's eyes lit up at the mention of combat training grounds, and I couldn't help but smile. Trust my father to identify exactly what would appeal to her.

"Of course, Your Majesty," Vex replied with a slight bow. He turned to Aria with professional courtesy. "Miss Nova, if you would follow me? I believe you'll find our facilities quite… stimulating."

Aria stood, her earlier nervousness completely replaced by anticipation. "That sounds amazing." She turned to me with a grin. "Don't have too much fun without me."

"I'll try to contain my excitement about magical theory," I replied dryly.

As Vex led Aria from the room, I caught my father's expression shift subtly. The formal mask he'd maintained in front of my friend softened, revealing genuine enthusiasm beneath his regal composure. It was a reminder that beneath the King of Hell façade, he was still my father—and apparently quite pleased at the prospect of spending time teaching me.

"Now then," he said, rising from his desk once the door closed behind them. "Shall we begin?"

"Where are we going?" I asked, standing as well.

He moved toward a side door I hadn't noticed before, one that seemed to blend seamlessly with the study's panelled walls. "Somewhere you won't accidentally destroy anything valuable while we're working."

The comment made me pause. "Destroy anything? Just how dangerous is this going to be?"

My father's smile held a hint of mischief that reminded me uncomfortably of Aria's expression when she was planning something particularly chaotic. "That, my dear daughter, is precisely what we're going to find out."

He opened the hidden door, revealing a corridor I'd never seen before, and gestured for me to follow.

* * *

The hidden corridor led deeper into the palace than I'd ever been, past rooms I didn't recognize and down staircases that seemed to spiral endlessly downward. The walls here were different—older somehow, carved from black stone that seemed to absorb light rather than reflect it.

"Here we are," my father said finally, opening a heavy door that required both hands to move.

The chamber beyond took my breath away. It was vast, with a domed ceiling that disappeared into shadow above us. Intricate magical circles were etched into the floor in what looked like silver and gold, their patterns so complex they made my eyes water to follow them. The air itself hummed with power, making the hair on my arms stand on end.

"This is where I practice when I need to ensure nothing important gets destroyed," he explained, gesturing to the reinforced walls. "The entire room is warded against dimensional collapse, reality tears, and temporal paradoxes."

"Temporal paradoxes?" I repeated weakly.

"You'd be surprised how often those come up with True Magic." He moved to the centre of the room, his footsteps echoing in the vast space. "Now then, describe to me exactly what happened when you believe you manifested this power."

I took a deep breath, trying to organize my thoughts. The memory was still vivid, still overwhelming in its intensity. "We were in London, confronting an ancient vampire named Cain. He'd possessed my old—" I caught myself before saying 'my old body.' "He'd possessed a human and was using that form to perform a ritual that would have killed everyone in the city."

My father nodded, his expression growing serious. "Go on."

"The battle wasn't going well. Cain was too powerful, and his ritual was nearly complete." I paused, the next part harder to explain without mentioning Faith directly. "Someone I cared about was killed. A mortal. When I saw them die, something inside me… broke open."

The words felt inadequate to describe the cosmic awareness that had flooded through me, the sensation of seeing every possible future branching out like lightning across the sky.

"I could suddenly see everything," I continued. "Not just what was happening, but what could happen, what had happened. The knowledge was overwhelming, but somehow I knew exactly what to do. I looked at Cain and simply… willed him to stop existing. And he did. His body just disintegrated, starting from his extremities and spreading inward until there was nothing left."

My father's eyes had grown increasingly intense as I spoke. When I finished, he was quiet for a long moment, processing what I'd told him.

"That does sound like True Magic," he said finally. "The overwhelming awareness, the ability to impose your will directly on reality without traditional spellcasting…" He studied my face carefully. "But I sense you're not telling me everything."

My heart skipped. "What do you mean?"

"Lily." His voice was gentle but firm. "You're my daughter. I know when you're holding something back. What aren't you telling me?"

For a moment, he looked so concerned, so genuinely caring, that the carefully constructed walls I'd built around my secrets began to crumble. This was my father—the being who'd created me, who'd taught me magic as a child, who'd worried about me during my coma. Maybe he would understand. Maybe the truth wouldn't be as catastrophic as I'd always feared.

"I…" I started, then stopped. How could I possibly explain that I wasn't sure if I was really his daughter? That I had memories of living an entire life as someone else?

But looking at his patient, loving expression, I realized I had to try. At least partially.

"The person who died," I said slowly. "It was someone very important to me. A mortal named Faith. When I used the True Magic to destroy Cain, I also… brought her back to life."

His eyebrows rose slightly, but he didn't interrupt.

"But something went wrong. She died again shortly after, and when she came back this time, she'd partially transformed into a demon. Just small changes—a horn, an altered eye—but definitely demonic in nature."

I watched his face carefully, trying to gauge his reaction. "I think my magic somehow marked her, changed her fundamental nature. And I don't understand how or why."

My father was quiet for a long moment, his golden eyes studying me with an intensity that made me want to fidget.

"Resurrection magic is among the most complex applications of True Magic," he said finally. "The fact that you managed it at all is remarkable. The transformation…" He paused, seeming to consider his words carefully. "That suggests a deeper connection than simple magical intervention."

"What kind of connection?"

His expression grew thoughtful, almost calculating. "Tell me, Lily—how exactly did you feel about this mortal? This Faith?"

The question hit me like a physical blow. The careful neutrality I'd tried to maintain crumbled completely.

"I loved her," I whispered.