Princess of Hell

We passed Moira's office. The door stood closed, a brass nameplate gleaming under the crystalline light.

Aria slowed her pace. "Going in or heading straight through?"

I reached for the doorknob, the metal cool against my palm. "She wouldn't leave anything worth finding."

The knob refused to turn.

"Besides, it's locked."

Aria's hand disappeared into the shimmer of her spatial ring. Metal glinted between her fingers as she withdrew a thin pick. "I could open it."

"Don't." My gaze tracked the doorframe, noting the faint shimmer along the edges. "She's warded it."

Valentina's footsteps stopped. "What exactly is your plan here?"

Aria's head tilted back, her eyes rolling toward the ceiling. "Weren't you supposed to be quiet? This isn't your concern."

"That changed." Valentina stepped closer, her heels clicking twice against the floor. "You're discussing breaking into a professor's office. One word from me, and you'll answer to the Headmistress." She crossed her arms beneath her chest. "So perhaps you should explain before I decide reporting you serves my interests better than following you."

Aria's mouth opened, her tail lashing to the left.

Then she stopped. Her jaw closed with an audible click.

She turned to face Valentina fully. "We didn't break in. Lily tried the door, found it locked, and we're leaving. So go ahead and tattle—not like you're following the lockdown orders either."

Valentina's lips pressed together. A soft sound emerged from her throat—not quite agreement, not quite protest.

But she didn't leave.

Isabella's eyebrow rose, the curve of it visible from my peripheral vision. Her surprise showed in the subtle shift of her posture, weight redistributing to her left foot.

The four of us continued down the corridor. Our footsteps created a rhythm—eight heels striking obsidian in an irregular pattern that echoed off the walls.

The air changed.

A scent drifted through the hallway, sweet at first contact with my senses. Then the undertone registered—decay beneath sugar, rot masked by false pleasantness. My nose wrinkled. The smell intensified with each step forward, growing from faint traces to an almost physical presence.

Aria's hand covered her nose and mouth. "What is that?"

Isabella breathed through her mouth, her jaw tight. "Nothing good."

The scent pulled us deeper into the main building. Each breath brought more of it into my lungs, the sweetness coating my tongue while the rot twisted in my stomach.

We rounded a corner. The smell grew thicker, guiding us toward the alchemy wing—the section where Auriel conducted her classes, where students learned to combine ingredients into useful concoctions.

Valentina made a strangled sound behind us. "That's vile."

"Then leave," Aria muttered.

The blonde succubus didn't respond. Her footsteps continued following ours.

The corridor opened into a wider hallway. Crystal formations embedded in the walls provided illumination, their light refracting through the air in patterns that seemed to warp around the spreading scent.

Ahead, obsidian doors marked the entrance to the alchemy laboratories. The sweet-rot smell emanated from that direction, concentrated and powerful enough to make my eyes water.

Whatever was happening in the Academy, it cantered there.

I approached the doors, my fingers extending toward the handle.

Time to discover what prompted the lockdown.

* * *

I pulled the door open, the metal warm under my palm. The sweet-rot smell rushed out like a wave, thick enough to taste.

Eight demons stood in a semicircle, their hands extended toward the wall. Crimson energy poured from their fingertips in streams of light that hit a growth spreading across three square meters of corner space. The substance looked purple where it touched stone, green where it bubbled outward—a living stain that pulsed with each breath I took.

Professor Auriel stood naked in the center, her blue skin gleaming under the laboratory's crystal light. Three other professors flanked her—two I recognized from passing in corridors, one completely unfamiliar. Four additional demons I'd never seen completed the semicircle, all equally bare.

The crimson energy hit the growth. The purple-green mass shriveled, pulling back toward the corner by several centimeters. Then it surged forward again, expanding to fill the same space within seconds.

"What is that?" Aria whispered beside me.

Isabella shifted, her shoulder pressing against the doorframe. "Nothing I've encountered before."

Valentina squeezed between us, her breath warm against my cheek as she leaned forward to see. Her eyes widened, pupils contracting to pinpoints.

"That's The Rot," she said, her voice dropping an octave.

Isabella's head turned. "Are you certain?"

"I recognize the pattern." Valentina's finger lifted, tracing the air to follow the purple veining through green mass. "See how it spreads in spirals? That's the reproductive stage."

I stared at the growth as it withered and regenerated under the demons' assault. "What's The Rot?"

"Parasitic corruption from Pestilentia." Valentina's tone shifted, acquiring the lecturing quality she used when explaining things to students she considered inferior. "It converts whatever it touches into more of itself. Spreads through microscopic spores."

Aria's tail stopped moving. "And you know this how?"

"House Morgenstern handled outbreaks for two centuries before losing our contracts." Pride crept into Valentina's voice, her chin lifting. "We specialized in containment protocols."

She gestured toward the naked professors. "That's why they've removed their clothing. Demons are immune to infection—our physiology rejects the conversion process. But fabric becomes infected within minutes. The spores would spread through the Academy on contaminated garments."

Aria's mouth opened, then closed. She turned to look at Valentina with an expression I'd never seen her wear around the blonde succubus—something between surprise and grudging respect.

Valentina caught the look. A smirk curved her lips, revealing the tips of her fangs. "Don't become accustomed to my assistance. I merely thought enlightening you would help you understand the difference between us."

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The crimson energy intensified. The growth pulled back another three centimeters before surging forward to reclaim the lost ground.

"Some fool probably brought poorly contained materials from Pestilentia." Valentina crossed her arms, her tone returning to its usual condescension. "This is what happens when people don't verify their sources before smuggling contraband."

My eyes met Isabella's. Her expression remained neutral, but I watched her right eyebrow rise—just a millimetre, barely visible unless you knew to look for it.

Aria's gaze flicked to me, then back to the professors fighting the corruption.

The materials from the Squalor District. Whatever Nyx had been collecting, whatever she'd brought back in those leather bags during our surveillance.

We'd found the hiding place.

A hand settled on my shoulder. I assumed Isabella had moved behind me, but the weight felt wrong—too light, too warm.

I turned my head.

My mother stood there, her crimson eyes meeting mine. A smile curved her lips, equal parts amusement and concern.

"Shouldn't you be in your dormitory?" she asked.

* * *

"M-mother?" The word came out in pieces, my throat closing between syllables.

Lilith's smile widened, her hand squeezing my shoulder. "Yes, dear? You look surprised. Did you think I wouldn't visit the Academy after receiving such an… interesting letter?"

Heat crept up my neck. "I just… I didn't expect—"

"Didn't expect me to appear behind you while you're wandering halls during a lockdown?" Her eyebrow rose, red eyes sparkling with amusement. "My dear daughter, I'm disappointed in your reasoning skills. Where else would I be?"

Aria shifted beside me, her tail curling around her leg.

Lilith's fingers lifted from my shoulder. She snapped once—a sharp crack that echoed in the corridor.

The world lurched sideways. My stomach dropped as reality twisted, then snapped back into place. The sweet-rot smell vanished, replaced by old parchment and dust.

I stood in an office. Wooden desk, two chairs, empty bookshelves lining three walls. Afternoon light filtered through a narrow window, casting rectangular patterns across the floorboards.

My mother settled into the chair behind the desk, crossing her right leg over her left. The movement was unhurried, each shift of fabric deliberate.

Isabella moved first. She dropped into a bow, her silver hair falling forward to curtain her face. Aria followed a heartbeat later, bending at the waist with her hands pressed to her thighs. Even Valentina sank down, her movements carrying the fluid courtesy of noble training.

I remained standing, my hand still half-raised from where it had been on the laboratory door handle.

"Where is this?" I asked.

"Fourth floor of the administrative building." Lilith settled back in the chair, her spine straight despite the casual posture. "I thought somewhere private would be appropriate for this conversation."

Her gaze drifted past me to Valentina, still bent in her bow. One of Lilith's eyebrows rose by a centimetre.

"And who is this?" She tilted her head toward the blonde succubus. "You're usually only accompanied by Nova and Lilitu."

Valentina straightened, her shoulders pulling back. "Valentina Morgenstern of House Morgenstern, Your Majesty." She bent again, deeper this time, her voice carrying the formal cadence of court speech. "It is my profound honour to be in your presence."

My mother's expression went still. Not blank—still. Like water freezing mid-ripple.

"Morgenstern." The name left her lips in a tone that made the temperature drop three degrees. "The brat who tried to drug my daughter with feral-inducing nectar."

Valentina's knees hit the floor with enough force that I heard bone strike wood. Her head dropped, platinum hair spilling across the floorboards.

"Your Majesty, I—I didn't know—please, I beg your forgiveness—"

The air thickened. Pressure built against my eardrums, making them pop. Valentina's shoulders compressed downward as if an invisible weight had settled across her back. Her forehead pressed to the floor, arms trembling as they struggled to support her upper body.

"Ignorance is not an excuse." Each word from my mother's mouth carried weight that made the pressure intensify. "You attempted to harm my daughter."

I'd seen what my mother could do. That drunk man in the alley, peeled apart layer by layer while still conscious. The gardener in my memories, the one who'd let me get hurt—his screams had echoed for hours.

Valentina was obnoxious. Spoiled. A pretentious brat who thought her noble blood made her superior to everyone else.

"Mother." I found myself saying. "Stop."

The weight in the air didn't lift, but it stopped increasing. Lilith's gaze moved to me, her expression unreadable.

"We already explained things between us," I continued. My hands clenched at my sides. "She knows who I am now. We've… reached an understanding."

I couldn't believe the words leaving my mouth. Defending Valentina Morgenstern. But I'd watched my mother work, seen the creativity she applied to torture and punishment.

Even Valentina didn't deserve that.

The pressure vanished like a snuffed candle. Valentina gasped, her lungs pulling in air with desperate sounds.

"As my daughter, you must learn to be more ruthless." Lilith's tone shifted to something almost conversational, though an edge remained underneath. "Being merciful is for mortals."

She waved one hand in a dismissive gesture. "Though I suppose you're still young, so such softness is to be expected."

My spine straightened. "I'm an adult, Mother."

"Please tell me that when you're at least two millennia old." Her lips curved in a smile that contained genuine affection beneath the amusement. "Until then, I'm afraid you remain very much my little girl."

She leaned forward, elbows settling on the desk. Her fingers laced together, forming a bridge beneath her chin.

"Now then." The temperature of her voice dropped five degrees toward business. "Explain why you were sneaking around during a lockdown." Her eyes moved between the four of us. "And elaborate on what you wrote in that letter."

* * *

"I see." My mother's fingers unthreaded from beneath her chin. She settled back in the chair, her palms coming to rest flat on the desk surface. "So I suppose I'll have to clean up this mess."

Her attention shifted to Aria. Something unreadable passed across my mother's features before settling into an expression I'd seen her use in court—neutral, measured, the kind that preceded judgments.

"Your mother has made quite the mess, hasn't she?"

Aria's spine went rigid. Her mouth opened, words forming on her tongue—

"Don't worry." My mother raised one hand, fingers splayed. "No harm will come to you. You're my daughter's dear friend, after all."

The tension in Aria's shoulders eased by two centimetres. She drew breath through her nose, the sound audible in the quiet office.

"However." My mother's hand lowered back to the desk. "I am going to have a very long conversation with your mother."

The emphasis on 'conversation' made the word carry weight it didn't usually possess. I'd heard that particular inflection before, usually followed by screaming.

"There is also a matter of Ms. Shadowveil…" My mother's gaze drifted toward the window, her voice dropping half an octave. "Student or not, she still broke the law."

A small part of my mind registered that I should probably feel something about that. Pity, maybe. Concern. Nyx hadn't asked to be manipulated by Sombra, hadn't chosen to have false memories planted in her head.

But the feeling didn't come. My chest remained empty of sympathy, my thoughts circling the problem with analytical distance rather than emotional investment.

It was strange. I'd stopped my mother from crushing Valentina moments ago, jumped in without thinking to protect someone who'd literally tried to drug me with feral-inducing nectar. Yet now, faced with Nyx's inevitable punishment, I felt… nothing.

Maybe because I wasn't watching it happen. Or maybe because my mother would probably be more lenient with Nyx than she would've been with Valentina.

Or maybe I just didn't care enough to intervene for someone outside my immediate circle.

"Your Majesty." Isabella's voice cut through my thoughts. She took one step forward, her hands clasped in front of her waist. "If I may request—would you allow House Lilitu to handle Shadowveil's punishment?"

"Hm." My mother tilted her head three degrees to the left. "Very well. Your house has proven itself capable in such matters."

The office door opened without anyone touching the handle. Headmistress Valencia stepped through, her heels clicking twice against the floor before she stopped, her spine straightening.

"Your Majesty, I apologize for the interruption." Her head dipped forward in a half-bow. "I couldn't reach you through magical channels."

"I warded the office." My mother's fingers tapped once against the desk. "What's the matter?"

Valencia's mouth opened, then froze. Her gaze had landed on the four of us standing before my mother's desk. Her eyes widened by two millimetres.

"Is there a problem?" My mother's tone didn't change, but the temperature in the room dropped half a degree.

"None at all, Your Majesty." Valencia's bow deepened another inch. "I was simply… surprised to see you meeting with students."

"Don't mind them." My mother's hand waved toward us in a dismissive gesture. "Continue."

Valencia's throat moved as she swallowed. Her hands folded together in front of her waist, knuckles pressing white against each other.

"The laboratory outbreak has been successfully contained." Her words came measured, each one placed with care. "However… reports are flooding in from across Ardorkeep. And beyond."

My mother's fingers stopped their tapping.

"There have been twenty-three simultaneous outbreaks of the Rot throughout Igneus." Valencia's voice remained level, but I caught the tremor underneath. "All within the past hour. Contamination sites include three commercial districts, five residential areas, and—" her breath caught for half a second "—two noble estates."

My mind jumped to Sombra. This couldn't be just her operation. One succubus with a basement laboratory didn't have the resources or connections to coordinate twenty-three simultaneous contamination events across an entire circle of Hell.

Someone bigger was behind this. Someone with reach and planning that extended far beyond a single manipulative demon using her daughter as a pawn.

My mother rose from the chair. The movement was smooth, controlled, but I felt power gathering around her like a physical pressure against my skin.

"Show me the map."