“You have no trust in me at all.”

“Stop pretending to be human. You wouldn’t help for free. I have nothing left to give you.”

Unlike humans, demons were extremely simple. They work, and receive payment. In the form of souls.

“Master’s vitality would be an excellent payment.”

The casual response brought an inadvertent thought. This wasn’t his usual sudden appearance — it seemed this demon was starting to struggle with hunger.

“Do I even have any vitality left for you to take? Rather, Lumière…”

Valentine, who was responding with a frown, closed her mouth. A scene naturally flashed through her mind. The way this demon takes vitality.

She knew that moment of horror better than anyone. The chill that seemed to freeze even one’s breath was unlike anything she experienced in this world. Valentine immediately corrected herself.

“…No, never mind. That would be too cruel to do to Lumière.”

Even now she was frozen and unable to speak.

The demon’s smile deepened. His outer shell was devilishly seductive, as befitting a demon.

Though Valentine had shouted at him not to do anything unnecessary, he was already devouring Liam’s nights with nightmares. It was quite satisfying to do work without particular compensation.

He had seen quite a bit of interesting past emotions too. However…

‘……’

At the ’emotions’ that came to mind, Lucifer looked at Valentine. The fearless gaze fixed on him emanated an uncommon light. It was always a pleasing look.

But would this woman be able to let him go so easily on the day Liam meets his end?

Hmm, making a small sound, Lucifer naturally melted into the darkness. Only then did Lumière shiver, as his presence finally disappeared.

Hugging herself, Lumière muttered.

“…I don’t know how you can be so comfortable with Lu.”

“What?”

“Aren’t you scared? After all…”

Lumière trailed off. Whatever else he might be, wasn’t he renowned as the very embodiment of fear?

Moreover, this spine-chilling cold… The air, colder than this winter, still lingered around. It seemed to seep into one’s bones.

“Lumière.”

A bitter smile formed on Valentine’s beautiful face.

“The scariest thing in this world isn’t demons like that, but humans.”

She quietly looked down at her fingertips. The tips of her restored living flesh were purely white and beautiful.

Yet she couldn’t forget the moment it rotted away. That time when her soul wandered lost, and her body melted into the earth, seeping in as a handful of soil.

“Yes, humans…”

Her measured voice was delicate and fragile enough to break at any moment. Valentine pushed her disheveled hair behind her ear and contained a small smile.

* * *

The next day, Lumière went straight to Cassian and asked.

“Bastian will receive a title soon, won’t he?”

Cassian nodded lightly.

“Yes, he’s almost four, so it would be a good time for him to become master of a territory.”

“So, where are you thinking of giving him?”

“I think Saint-Germain would be appropriate.”

At the unexpected position, Lumière could only stare at Cassian for a moment.

Count of Saint-Germain. Though a count was still a high noble title, it was merely a minor position that no one in the imperial family considered important.

“Not Soner?”

“That would be excessive.”

It was an answer that cut off any further discussion. Even Lumière, who disliked Amaryllis and had little affection for Bastian, was at a loss for words.

Both Valentine and Lumière were wrong. It seemed Cassian didn’t consider Bastian very important at all.

Hmm, clearing her throat slightly, Lumière could only respond after a slight delay.

“By the way.”

“Yes, please speak.”

“I can’t keep being called Mademoiselle Sehera forever, can I? It’s quite embarrassing when even my much younger nephew will soon be called Count.”

At those words, a sound flashed through Cassian’s ears. The voice of that woman who resembled Valentine calling Lumière ‘Queen’.

He thought she called her that because she was used to the title from when they are in Tristan. But now he realized she had put that on her lips because there was no appropriate honorific to call Lumière.

“I failed to consider Your Highness’s position. I apologize for not being attentive.”

“I don’t particularly want to hear words without sincerity.”

Cassian closed his mouth. It was indeed his fault for not having considered it, so he had no excuse when his sister expressed such obvious dissatisfaction.

In truth, remarriage would be the most ideal solution. But Lumière, who had suffered enough from her husband in Tristan, did not dream of a second marriage.

Lumière placed her hand on the desk. Her slender fingertips turned pale white. She tilted her head slightly.

“If you’re truly sorry, would you show your sincerity?”

There was clear desire in her gentle tone. Realizing she had come with a plan, Cassian let out a low sigh.

“Which position do you want?”

“Blumir would be satisfactory.”

Cassian blinked momentarily at those words.

If she had asked for Pendragon, he could have understood to some degree. As it was their mother’s title. But Blumir he hadn’t expected at all.

“How should I answer when you ask for a position that already has an owner?”

“A position that has an owner…”

Lumière, chewing over Cassian’s words, curved her eyes pretending to be gentle.

“I’m curious myself.”

“I hope my answer will resolve Your Highness’s question.”

“Everything of Madame Marguerite was confiscated by the state. The Marguerite duchy is in your hands too. But why did only Blumir go to someone else?”

Cassian had only one answer he could give.

“There was simply someone who could rightfully take the position.”

“An adoptee is rightful?”

“Don’t you know? In Sehera, even adopted children’s succession rights are recognized.”

“That’s for ordinary nobles. Strictly speaking, Blumir is royal.”

Though it seemed forced when you thought about it, when you started tracing bloodlines, there really wasn’t much to refute.

“So give it to me. With it having no legitimate heir now, it would be best if it came to me.”

“In fact.”

Cassian swallowed a small groan.

“If you had asked for Pendragon, I would have at least considered it.”

It was a roundabout refusal. Lumière met his gaze directly.

“Saying you’ll consider it means you have no intention of giving it at all.”

“Your Highness.”

Some bewilderment clouded the blue eyes that met Lumière’s. A somewhat stern statement followed.

“Blumir belongs entirely to Lord Liam.”

“You just don’t want to give me anything, do you?”

Even Lumière thought this was an excessive assumption. But since she had a goal, she needed to push this much.

Cassian quietly furrowed his brow. Such behavior would be understandable from someone completely lacking judgment. But Lumière, born and raised in the imperial family and having been a queen for twenty years, was unlike others — she was quick to calculate.

“Why would I begrudge you mere titles, sister?”

“Then why say it’s not possible? You know I’m right, don’t you?”

“Lumière.”

At the rare use of her name, Lumière’s eyebrow twitched. Her brother’s gaze grew dark. Soon, Cassian straightened his back.

“What is your intention in doing this?”

“Intention? It sounds like you’re suggesting I have ill will. I hope I heard wrong.”

“I say this because it seems clear you at least want to put me in a difficult position.”

“Why would I do that? I’m your sister, Cassian. If you’re troubled, wouldn’t I be as well?”

“Well said. How do you think I feel when you approach me like this?”

Lumière quietly closed her mouth. One wrong word and she might not even recover her initial investment.

Cassian’s voice continued.

“When I took this position after driving out Astaire, I swore — to never do what is wrong.”

Lumière made a gesture of clicking her tongue. Adding disappointment to her tone was extra.

“I never thought… you would describe giving me a title as something wrong.”

“Please don’t try to twist things that way.”

It was close to a warning. Even if it was Lumière, he would mercilessly cut down any requests that deviated from his ideals.

“There is nothing I can do as I please. I don’t want discord.”

“Cassian de la Fleur.”

At the word ‘discord’, she had to hide her true feelings with a smile. Though Cassian must have noticed her intentions, she hadn’t expected him to give such an explicit warning.

“Sometimes staying quiet can cause even greater discord. Why don’t you consider that you’re showing favoritism to Duke Blumir?”

“It’s not favoritism, just recognizing his merits.”

What followed was either explanation or excuse.

“Lord Liam commanded troops at the forefront during the revolution and willingly bloodied his hands. If Lord Liam doesn’t qualify as a meritorious retainer, no one can.”

“Bloodied his hands?”

“He didn’t hesitate even to kill his sister.”

That was Cassian’s chosen response to her feigned question. Not Madame Marguerite, not Astaire’s consort, just a sister.

The reluctance to acknowledge, the subtle possessiveness, and the clear line drawn for Duke Blumir — Lumière could see all these complex feelings at once.

“Well. I’m not sure if that can be called merit.”