Dick grabbed the jug of milk, poured himself a glass, screwed the cap on tightly, then slid the bottle across the table.

Dick: I was parched. Thanks Tali.

Talia glared at him, her face still flushed from the spicy sauce and her anger. Dick calmly sipped his milk, then smacked his lips.

Dick: Oh, did you want some?

Talia (shouting): Yes, you bastard!

Dick: Huh... Sucks for you.

Talia: Every day you live brings me endless torment!

Dick: Aww, thank you Tali.

Talia turned to Bruce, holding back on striking the man's son because she knew that didn't pan out well for her. Bruce loved all his children whether Talia hated Dick or not.

Talia (poking Dick on the head): Bruce... Bruce... He tainted my sushi!

Bruce: Dick?

Dick: I only wanted her to try some delicious wasabi and asked the chef to add a little to each roll.

Talia (voice strained): The chef is Alfred!

Alfred (wearing a blue chef hat): Did you enjoy it?

Talia: No! My tongue- My entire mouth is burning! There's no flavor, just pain. I... I can handle spicy food, but this is different... level!

Dick (eating a wasabi dipped tuna roll): Some people can't handle that Scoville level. That and cold hearted women who can't handle rejection.

Talia (coughing): You... You... Damn it all, I- I can't talk! How is it getting hotter?!

Alfred: I'll take that as you asking for seconds of my wasabi rolls?

Talia: No, you buffoon! I should slash-

Bruce: If you finish that sentence I'm throwing you out.

Talia: Oh come on! I can't threaten the butler either! Such bull!

Alfred: Your anger at a misunderstanding doesn’t mean you have to insult my cooking.

Ra’s nodded, sipping his tea calmly.

Talia (practically whining): Father! He’s trying to kill me!

Ra’s: Talia, take the loss.

Dick: Yeah, you’re acting like you ate rat poison. Nobody has ever died from eating wasabi. Aren’t you an assassin with many kills? Some spicy sauce shouldn’t be that bad.

Talia: I... loathe you.

Dick: Aww, Talia, same here!

Talia: Bruce, punish him!

Bruce: Hmm, no, this is clearly an accident. Dick underestimated how spicy wasabi can be for some people. Dick, apologize.

Dick: Sorry you can’t handle wasabi, Talia.

Dick smiled sweetly, though Talia seethed and shook with rage. Damian approached, handing her a glass of milk.

Damian: I don’t want you to suffer further after being embarrassed, Mother.

Talia: Thank you, Habibi. Dick Grayson, I... will get my revenge later, but for now—

Talia took a few sips of the milk while Dick grabbed a bottle of soy sauce and added some to a small ceramic bowl. Bruce sat back down next to Selina, and they ate silently, as if the discussion had concluded.

Until suddenly, Talia dumped the rest of the milk on Dick’s head. The liquid dripped down his hair as he still held the bowl of soy sauce.

Talia: That’s good so far. It's missing a little color.

Without missing a beat, she grabbed the bowl of soy sauce and dumped that on Dick’s head next. Dick could only laugh at first, a low, dry chuckle that morphed into a full-blown cackle, and then he tackled Talia to the ground.

The two began fighting, throwing each other across the room while Bruce and Selina ate their sushi in silence. Dick and Talia stormed out, both yanking at each other’s hair. The younger Bat members followed, trying to break them up, Barbara cheering for Dick, and Jason heading off to grab a fire extinguisher.

Jason: I got this.

Bruce, Alfred, Selina, and Ra’s continued eating at the table.

Ra’s (to Alfred): This sushi is surprisingly well done. How did you learn to make it?

Alfred: I traveled as a young man after the war, and while in Japan, I took a few classes. I can cut poison fish and make it edible without the poison part.

Ra’s: That’s a feat few can achieve.

Alfred: Thank you, Ra’s. But you’re staying here, not going to handle the bickering adults?

Ra’s: Not my circus tonight.

Alfred: Seems Bruce agrees.

Bruce: Jason’s got it covered.

“Did you not just tell me that having someone else by her side would cause controversy?” Confusion shone through Peter’s voice as the two of you wandered the Palace’s hallways.

Your words must have flown over his head. You did not understand how he could not grasp what you planned on doing. 

It was clear when you laid it out for him a second ago.

"Yes, I did."

His head tilted down as an incredulous look was sent your way. It was very easy to miss it with the way your eyes were adamant about looking ahead.

"But you are heavily convinced that, now, it is a great time to come out of the dark with Eve." His questioning tone fell on deaf ears as you nodded without a word. The small smile was the only indicator of how pleased you felt.

He attempted to unravel this mystery. However, to him, you were not making any sense. In fact, he worried you could have suffered a head injury.

You'd had insane ideas before. More than a healthy amount. None of them could have compared to this one, however.

"Because?" The brunette asked after a long pause.

“Ugh.” The roll of your eyes along with a low groan caused the man to arch his eyebrow. “Because I decided not to care.” You told him with a stiff smile as your body tilted to the side.

His steps faltered in bafflement as you kept walking. It was a bold statement. You always tried to fight your parents when it came to Eve, but you had never really gone against them.

You had never jeopardized their authority and status. Always following their rules no matter how much you disagreed with them—also vocally.

All because you had believed, at least, your mother had wanted the best for you. Well, that changed quickly. Now, you knew the truth.

And you would not try to fit their agenda. You would not fall into an agreement just because she would ask you to.

It was time to live how you wanted.

“What?” You heard Peter’s bewildered voice from behind you. “What do you mean?” He quickly caught up with you, not taking his eyes off your face even for a second.

You had to admit, it was quite amusing.

“If she can flaunt her lover without consequences, so can I.” You did not miss a beat while speaking.

The brunette could see there was no hints of hesitation on your expression. You were completely serious and ready.

“Are you not worried they will withdraw from the arrangement?”

You laughed out a scoff before looking at your friend. “They are too greedy for it, Peter. They traded me off.”

“No, I meant the Maximoffs.” Your brows scrunched at Peter’s suggestion. “They do not seem to be intimidated by anyone.” He added. “Even your parents.”

Your jaw clenched before your teeth moved, gritting against each other. He had a point. The Maximoffs were a strong family that did not bow their heads easily. Their Kingdom was also strong thanks to the level-headed rulers.

But not as strong as Avengel.

“They wouldn't.” You replied shortly. “They don’t want a war.” Peter’s head tilted at you in question as you took a turn. “My father has only so much patience and he’s been waiting to possess their lands for a long time.”

The brunette’s face changed into an understanding one. He knew how impulsive the King was—especially, when he was angry.

And it did not take a lot to anger him.

“He is already barely tolerating the fact that Queen Iryna represents the family and not the King Consort Oleg.” The corners of Peter’s lips raised as a stiff line spread on his face. “If they canceled now, he would not hesitate to forcefully take their Kingdom.”

You explained further to the boy who nodded in silent agreement.

But he did not need too much information. He had been around your family for enough years to notice how disgusting your father’s beliefs and actions were.

Sometimes, you hated how they would slip into you. Like when you couldn’t have understood why Wanda was the heir instead of Pietro.

It was not impossible for a woman to be the heir in Avengel, but she would have to be the oldest child. Wanda was younger.

Nonetheless, you had always scolded yourself for thinking like that. You did not want to. You wanted this Kingdom to be inclusive and fair.

And your intention was to make it that way as soon as the crown would become yours.

Your empty eyes finally moved from a random spot on the floor when long, brunette hair flashed in their corner.

Eve.

Parting your lips, your hands unfolded from behind you. Your step quickened, leaving confused Peter alone as you rounded the corner.

“Eve!” You called out, the girl’s back facing you as a few maids glanced your way. “Eve!” You said again, not caring about others.

A tall man walked with her before turning his head and looking at you over his shoulder. Her father. He stopped, gently grabbing his daughter’s forearm before whispering to her.

His hand pointed lightly in your direction and Eve’s eyes raised enough to steal a glance at you. But it was only for a split second before her head dropped to the floor.

Your eyebrows furrowed and the smile instantly vanished from your face as you watched them converse.

His hand landed on the girl’s shoulder as he sent her a reassuring grin. It was so strange to see her body rise from the deep breath she visibly took.

The man looked at you again, raising his hand in a greeting as a short bow followed after. He left Eve standing alone before her eyes found you again.

You could not quite pinpoint what she felt in the moment. But one thing you could say was that her emotions were being kept away from you right now.

Hesitating for a second, you finally took slow steps towards her.

“Hello.” You uttered out quietly, folding your hands behind your back as an uneasy grin spread on your face. 

“Greetings, Your Highness.” She gracefully picked her dress with her fingertips before bowing.

“I—uh.” You cleared your throat, roaming your eyes around the hallway. “There is no need for formalities.” You tried to ease the situation as her head stayed lowered, not letting you see the eyes you had wished to see for way too many days.

Her body shook as she took a breath before tilting her chin up, glancing at you shortly.

“You are the royal heir, respect is due.” She quickly rebutted.

Your lips went dry at the sudden change in her behavior. Or maybe it was sudden to you. You hadn’t seen her for quite some time—and your last interaction did not end great either.

It was normal to expect some reservations from her side, but you wanted to fix your mistakes.

“Did you, uh—” You started, slightly rocking in place. “Did Clinton give you my letter?” 

Her tongue poked out to wet her lips before the bottom one was sucked in. “Yes.”

The answer immediately caused you to smile. “Will you—accept?” You hesitated, worrying about what the answer could be. 

But she would not refuse. Right?

“I am unsure if it is a good idea.” Her voice turned small, almost inaudible, as she spoke.

Your body went numb, not believing that there would be an actual possibility of her rejection.

“W-why?” You stuttered out, blinking rapidly as your head shook.

“Because I am a daughter of a Baron and you are a royal heir soon-to-be married to a Princess.” Her words came out harshly as her eyes finally connected with yours.

There was frustration swirling all over them. But also hurt and helplessness.

“Eve—” You breathed out.

“I do not want to cause a scandal mere days away from the wedding.”

“And I do not care if we cause a scandal.” You quickly countered, causing her brown irises to widen in surprise. “With you, it would be the most beautiful one in history.”

Your sugar-coated words made the girl’s mouth part before it formed a thin line. Her teeth sank into her bottom lip as you watched her fall deep in thought.

“I don’t know, Elliott.” Her head shook. “You’ve been distant lately and I do not wish to put myself in an uncomfortable situation.” The look in her eyes almost broke your heart, how small she seemed because of it. “Your family knows what our association is, this alone would cause my presence to be an inconvenience.”

Inconvenience?

Your brows furrowed. You had been distant. Busy, more like. That was true and you hated yourself for it. For making her feel like this.

But you wanted to make things right. Make them better. Make up for your mistakes.

“Please.” You took her hands in yours. “Just this one time.” Your pleading expression caused hers to soften as you stared into her eyes. “I will do right by you, just give me a chance.”

Her silence was defeaning. It got louder with each beat of your heart, ringing and banging in your ears. You needed her to agree. You needed to show her that you were not afraid anymore. That she would be there with you.

That she would not be in the shadows anymore.

That you would take her hand in yours despite the others’ gawking.

That your attention would be put on her and not nobility that you could not give a single damn about.

That you would pull her to the middle of the dancefloor and hold her like yours.

Because she was yours.

And you were hers.

“Okay.” She finally uttered out.

You almost choked on your spit from happiness and shock, widening your eyes.

“Really?”

She nodded her head, smiling lightly at you in confirmation.

“Thank you, thank you.” Your lips spread so wide they could hurt your face. But you did not care. Not now, when she agreed. “I already cannot wait.” You told her excitedly, causing her to giggle.

“I hope so.” She replied timidly. “But I have to go, my father needs me.” She gestures to where the man left earlier, her smile turning into a small grimace.

“Of course, yes.” You quickly squeezed her hands before stepping away. “I will see you soon then.” You nodded at her with happiness painting your features.

“Yes, Your Highness, see you soon.” She sent you one last smile before turning around and disappearing around the corner.

You stayed in the same place, completely overjoyed, staring at the empty hallway where she was a second ago. 

She agreed.

At last.

Now, you only had to prepare for the inevitable disapproving looks and words from your parents.

But that would be simple. They cared about the wedding so much that you could use it as leverage.

They would not fight you. They couldn’t. Not if they wanted to achieve what they had been planning for most of your life.

“You genuinely left me behind just to send heart eyes like a love-struck moron?” Peter’s voice snapped your head in his direction. He was panting, probably from the short jog he’d had a few minutes ago. 

“Did you want them too?” You asked teasingly, turning your body to him. “Do you feel left out Pete?”

His eyes rolled immediately as you laughed. 

“Don’t worry, I am sure the Maximoff boy will share some with you.” You patted his shoulder as you passed him, hearing a loud gasp.

“Don’t you dare, Elliott!” He warned you instantly, causing your laugh to increase in volume as he followed behind.

——

Your thoughts were running in circles, banging against your head. It felt like a tornado inside of you.

Was it a good idea to start this battle? Undoubtedly, your parents would be furious as soon as they would see Eve at the ball.

But you could not let others control your life anymore.

What if Peter was right, on the other hand? Adding fuel to the fire that Maximoff Princess started might not have been the best move.

Your head shook as you blinked rapidly. It could not become another torturous thing for you.

Before it had a chance to consume you even more, your body jerked to the side when something bumped into you.

“Oh, Lord!” You looked up with an irritated expression just to see a terrified servant. “I am so sorry, Your Highness, please, forgive me.” He ranted, looking like you were about to whip him.

Normally, you would give a small warning. However, you noticed how he was struggling to keep a baggage up in his arms.

Your brows furrowed at the sight.

Whose is this?

You tried to figure it out, but the item did not look like any of your family members’.

“Hmpf.” The man grunted, trying to catch the baggage as it slipped out of his hands.

You quickly caught it from the bottom, putting some of its weight on you.

“Thank you, Your Highness.” He uttered out, fixing the thing, and grabbing it more comfortably. 

The man bowed as best as he could before scurrying off and leaving you confused.

It only deepened when you came up to the staircase, noticing multiple servants running around with even more luggage.

“What on earth?” You whispered to yourself as more people kept going up the stairs and following the trail of where the first man went.

Nobody had told you of anybody arriving at the palace. Your whole family was here, so it could not be them either.

Maybe Peter brought new goods from his recent travels.

But your question was answered when a familiar face emerged through the front doors. Your jaw immediately clicked in place when your eyes landed on her.

It got only worse when her companion joined her quickly, smiling brightly like a fool.

Your eyes rolled as your grip on the rail tightened. Whatever they were up to, you were having none of it.

With a quick step, you were going down the stairs in seconds.

“I own more than I thought.” She chuckled out to the Duke whose grin widened when her gaze went up to him.

His low laugh made you want to puke. It sounded disgusting just like him.

As your eyes landed on the luggage by the door, you were reminded that the things were hers. No doubt about this anymore.

One torture after another. You kept a groan in, not wanting to be dramatic about this inconvenience. It had to happen sooner or later.

You’d rather it were later. 

Well, it was too late for that.

After all, jousting would be tomorrow, then the engagement ball.

And then, the wedding ceremony.

Your end. And a new start. You could only hope with all your being that it would turn out well for you.

There was no better path at this point.

“What brings you here?” You asked, coming up to the woman with spread arms. “Besides delivering more misery to my life?” The question was hushed enough for only Wanda to hear.

And you were sure she did when her face turned blank before she clenched her teeth. 

It did not last long when she squinted her eyes with a stiff smile and a tilted head as she stared at you.

“Is there an amount that will finally make you stay away?” She bit back, causing your mouth to part as your tongue slightly poked out through it. “Now, excuse me.” She added, bending down to lift a smaller luggage.

“My dear—” Her companion said, bending down slightly to stop the woman. 

Your eyes instantly snapped to him, sending a warning sign as you looked around to see if anyone heard him.

“—Princess.” He quickly added, shifting uncomfortably under your hardened gaze. “Let the servants do their job.” He said louder, gaining his confidence back, before clearing his throat and buttoning a single button up.

His words instilled so much anger in you that you felt your blood boil. The cockiness, the pride, the stupid smirk on his face like he owned the place.

Not in my home.

“Mind your tongue.” You seethed out to him, causing his body to stiffen as his upper lip quivered. Wanda’s eyes snapped to you with an irritated swirl in them. “They are not your servants, they are not yours to command.” You added lowly, taking a small step forward as annoyance coursed through your veins. 

He stared at you in silence, his head ticking as he breathed out, causing his nostrils to flare.

The corners of his lips spread in a tense grin as you watched him intensely. If he thought he could do what he wanted here, he was greatly mistaken.

“Of course.” He finally uttered out, lowering his gaze for a second. But you were not about to let it go, despite the frustration that tried to break out on his features. “Your Highness.” He added with a hint of impudence.

The staring contest lasted a little longer until Wanda loudly cleared her throat, giving you both an unhappy look.

"Are you done engaging in a size comparison?” Her comment made your jaw clench. 

But she was right. It was not the time, nor the place to make a scene. Or to bicker with this individual.

“Keep your guest in check.” You told her, sending one last pointed look at Jarvis before turning around and walking away.

You had more important things to attend to than this childish exchange.

——

Your day managed to get even worse. Somehow. Thanks to a certain somebody. This time, it was your mother. She thought it would be a great idea to welcome the Princess into the Palace with a quick, friendly game of Polo.

Of course, Jarvis could not be left out while he was there, stuck to Wanda’s side like glue. His stupid smirk and poor attitude made your dislike grow very quickly in a very short time.

You may not have known the brunette girl well, but it was still hard to understand why she would want someone like him around.

But you did not have time to think about it when you swung the mallet, hitting the ball perfectly. It flew in the air, shooting ahead, and falling just right in front of Kate.

She did not wait to make a move, delivering a blow that sent the ball between the opposite team’s poles.

“Excellent!” Peter shouted from his horse.

“Good job, sister!” You added with a wide, open-mouthed grin, sending her a short wink to which she laughed.

The only thing keeping you happy in this situation was the fact that you were winning. Seeing Jarvis’s fuming face was something you never knew you would need.

Well, you could not get enough of it. You guessed it was not often that somebody shut this man up. 

It was delightful.

“Be aware of flies.” A comment went by you just as your future wife strutted on her horse. 

The joyfulness instantly left your body as a blank expression took over. Raising an eyebrow, you looked at her boredly.

“It is okay to lose sometimes.” You jabbed back, turning your horse around and matching her pace. “No need to be jealous.”

She scoffed at your teasing tone, her eyes rolling as you smirked cockily. 

“Jealous?” Her eyebrow arched almost all the way to her hairline. “I am barely putting any effort in so you can feel better about your skills.” Her shoulders shrugged nonchalantly as she sent you an innocent smile.

A laugh-like huff escaped your mouth as you both got to the center. She lined up on her side as you made a circle around her.

“Whatever makes you feel better, Princess.” You said lowly, leaning toward her.

Her mouth twitched as you got in the position. Everyone else caught up quickly, Jarvis with a grimace on his face as his gaze landed on you.

The annoyance swirling in his eyes was boosting your ego that was becoming harder and harder to hide.

You did not get to take it in when the umpire dropped the ball in the center, starting a round. Your sister immediately swooped in, stealing the ball. Peter rushed forward, hitting the round object again, putting it closer to the opponents' poles.

"I've got it!" Pietro shouted, riding up quickly and defending his team's side by delivering a blow to the ball and sending it towards the center again.

Queen Iryna and your mother were both the closest to it, but they seemed helpless. Kate's eyes rolled as Jarvis rode up and hit the object just enough to move it in front of him for the next blow.

You were riding towards it with Wanda next to you. She was completely determined and zoned in on the ball. However, you got there just a few seconds before her, quickly swinging the mallet, and getting the object back towards the center.

Your smile only widened when you looked up just to be met with the brunette’s glare as she turned her horse around.

She would not have a chance getting the ball back, however. Kate’s reaction was quick, sending it even farther away to Peter who hit it strongly.

The ball flew far, right in between the other team’s poles, scoring a point for you.

“Yes!” You yelled out from the back. “There you go, Pete.” A wide grin plastered on your face as Kate high-fived your best friend.

Queen Iryna, along with your mother, seemed to be happy to be done with the game when they tiredly conversed while slowly riding up to the chairs.

“That was splendid!” Kate said loudly, a huge smile gracing her lips as the rest of you were joining the older women.

“And quick.” Peter threw a blow, sending Wanda and Pietro a teasing smirk.

“Alright, Mr. Parker.” Pietro started, raising his hand as his lips pressed into a tight line. “How about a game of chess? We will see how fast your hands are there.” The silver-haired man teased the poet, arching his eyebrow as he looked at Peter over his shoulder.

The boy’s face flushed immediately, causing him to tuck it down. He was ridiculous for it. It was obvious he liked the older Maximoff.

You had never seen him fumble like that. Pietro could do anything and Peter would be melting on the spot like a lit candle.

“Ugh.” You heard a grunt from behind you, making your head turn.

It was Wanda, struggling with getting her foot out of the stirrup. Jarvis was a bit away from the Princess, so you turned your horse around and strutted closer.

“Somebody wants you to play one more.” You joked lightly, pulling a bit on the reins to position the animal better.

She only glared at you, clearly unhappy with the inconvenience that was getting in her way.

As you slid down and off the saddle, about to go help the brunette, you heard a loud thud before quick footsteps followed.

Of course.

Your face immediately turned emotionless when you saw Jarvis rushing over to the brunette woman, extending his hand, and offering help with a bright smile.

What a snake.

Because only a snake could smile like this while sending you glares and cocky smirks. Just like he did now when his eyes almost shone with that damn glint of satisfaction and pride in them.

Wanda accepted his help, putting her hand in his as he helped her down.

“I might have lost the match, but I won your hand.” He said lowly, earning a small giggle from the Princess as she grabbed her horse’s reins.

Your blood boiled at his brave words. If anybody heard him, he could lose his head. No matter how ambiguous it could’ve sounded, the consequences of it would not change.

But you knew why he said it. You knew why now. Everyone else was out of earshot. Besides you. He had been here only for a few days and you already hated his guts.

Whatever dominance he tried to establish, he would understand very quickly that you were not one to start a war with.

He could have Wanda for all you cared. You did not even want this marriage to begin with until it became the best choice for your future.

“Marriage is one step closer to your freedom.”

Your mother’s words rang in your head again. This time, however, they seemed real. Maybe she was not a complete liar. She was right about something in the end.

“Well, it is good to know at least one of you has manners.” Wanda commented, making your teeth grit as she sent you a hard look. “We shall join the others, Queen Eleanor said she has a surprise.” Wanda informed the tall man who kept watching her with a wide, fake grin.

They both walked past you, engrossed in a conversation as Wanda giggled happily at something the Duke said.

You were doing everything in your power not to roll your eyes. But your face was fuming, undoubtedly. 

You had manners. Better than this excuse of a man. You were on your way to help. He swooped in to save the day instead. It would be ridiculous to fight over which one of you would grab her hand.

If anything, he was childish.

You did not care about what he did back in Sokovian Port, but you would not tolerate his disrespect in your own Kingdom.

Not when it was thrown right in your face.

And your lovely future wife would not stop you from putting her lover in his place.

“Elliott!” You heard your mother’s voice. “Don’t you stand there like a lone wolf.” Her words sounded casual, but when you eyes met hers, you saw the pleading in them.

She had been trying her best to fix what she had broken. It’d not been easy to talk to or be around her, but you could see how much effort she was putting into making things better.

Without a word, you gave her a short nod before guiding your horse to the others.

“I shall take my leave now.” Jarvis’s voice woke you up from the boring conversation about tea that was happening between the two Queens.

They really had nothing better to talk about. It had been going on for at least thirty minutes, discussing the perfect intensity and flavor. Sugar or no sugar. Black or fruit.

You did not understand how someone could say so much about tea. However, you were not a specialist, so it would make sense you did not know too many fascinating things about it.

Suddenly, you were jealous of the little bubble Peter and Pietro seemed to be in as they conversed with each other, not caring about others.

You could not even ask Kate for help as she was discussing dresses and archery with the Maximoff Princess.

“Oh.” Wanda let out, furrowing her eyebrows and halting her conversation. “Are you not going to stay a little longer?” 

Her question was met with a shake of his head as his lips pulled inward in a tight smile.

“I have a few matters I need to attend to.” He explained politely with an apologetic look before moving his gaze to two older women. “It was delightful to spend time with you, Your Majesties.” He declared with a wide grin, bowing slightly.

They both smiled stiffly, looking up at the man from their seats.

“That is so kind of you.” Your mother uttered out. “You are welcome to join us later.” She added before taking a sip of her drink.

He bowed again before saying his goodbyes and walking away. All the while your eyes threatened to roll as you wanted to scream at her to take it back. You’d had enough of this moron for the day. Maybe even a whole week.

Knowing your mother, she would make you stick around for a while to make the Princess feel welcomed in the Palace.

“That’s her home now, she needs to feel comfortable.”

Those had been her words when you’d asked why exactly a tour party was needed today. Wanda had seen the Palace before. 

She did not need an introduction.

“Well.” Your mother said, gaining everyone’s attention. “Now, that it's only us, I would love for you all to come with me." 

Confused gazes watched her as she stood up from her spot. She only ushered everyone not to waste time while the surprise was waiting. Everybody got up and walked towards the Palace as you finished your cup of tea.

Whatever surprise she had planned, you had no idea what it could be. Maybe Kate was in on it, but judging by her puzzled expression earlier, the chances of it were slim.

There was nothing you could think of that would be for all of you. Especially, Wanda, Pietro, and their mother.

Unless it was only for a few of you. 

Your eyes rolled as you got up with a sigh. If it was another attempt at putting you and the brunette closer with some absurd wedding gift, you would leave immediately.

As you walked inside, your mother was standing at the door while others slowly strutted down the hall.

She was undoubtedly waiting for you, judging by the fact that she started walking only when you reached her side.

“What is it this time?” You asked her boredly. “Another one of your great plans?” A hint of bitterness was laced in your tone as you added.

She visibly bit her tongue before swallowing and looking ahead.

“No.” She replied calmly, moving her gaze to you. “But I have planned it for a while.” Your eyebrow raised at her words.

The last time she had planned something for a while had been your marriage to Wanda. Hopefully, this time it was something better.

You could not handle any more of her big surprises. 

“That man.” She said out of nowhere as you walked in silence. “He’s—interesting.” She paused for a second as she looked for a word.

“Who?” You asked, furrowing your eyebrows as your hands folded behind your back. “Jarvis?”

“Yes.” She replied, staying silent for a longer while as she stared ahead.

You only glanced at the floor, wondering where she was trying to go with this. She had not spoken about him ever since he had shown up.

In fact, she had seemed pretty welcoming to somebody who was not even on the guest list. But then, she always kept up a certain act around nobility. 

Maybe if you hadn’t avoided her since your last argument, you would know more about her thoughts now—just like you had always known before.

“I do not believe this Palace is the right place for him.” She said lowly, turning her head to you with that look in her eyes.

The one that would always tell you she knew you felt the same way as her.

It ticked you off. But it also made a feeling of familiarity and comfort wash over you at how well you knew each other in the end.

You wanted to be mad at her. At least a bit longer.

“Why?” You opted for a short question, focusing your eyes on everyone who walked a short distance ahead of you.

“He’s—” She trailed off, roaming her eyes on the walls decorated with paintings of your ancestors. “Not very delightful.” You snorted at her teasing tone as she lightly mocked Jarvis’s words from earlier.

“Not particularly, no.” Your agreement made her mouth curl into a small smile as you grinned to yourself.

It was not hard to guess that she was trying to get back on your good side. You knew from Kate how your lack of engagement had taken a toll on the Queen.

Maybe she did love you for you. Maybe she did want the best for you. But right now, it did not feel like that to you. And you were allowed to be angry with her for lying.

As you were passing one of the hallways, you caught a glimpse of Eve and her father emerging from the King’s meeting room.

“Excuse me for a moment, Mother.” You said, completely focused on the girl standing far away from you as you went around the Queen.

Her gaze followed yours before it landed on the brunette. “Oh.” She let out silently, inhaling slowly through her nose. You mentally braced yourself for a scolding comment that would come within a second. “Join us in the right wing whenever you are done.” She informed you calmly, ending her sentence with a smile before catching up with the others.

You were shocked. There was no snarky remark. No bitter comment. No glares or disapproving looks.

But there was no time to think about it. You wanted to talk to Eve. As much as you could. Whenever and wherever you could.

He sat at the bar, two fingers holding onto a thin straw as they stirred around the contents of the nearly empty drink. He hadn’t meant to drink, he was a sloppy drunk and knew that much, but Charlie wanted to celebrate now that the hotel had been rebuilt. She wanted everyone to celebrate, and so he agreed because now that he was back with his daughter, he wouldn’t do anything to disappoint her again. He couldn’t let himself drift back into the haze of never knowing what day it was, letting information just pass by him rather than taking it in and understanding it, of letting himself drift away from her again. He wouldn’t let that happen.

The look on Charlie's face when she realized that Alastor wouldn’t be joining the celebrations, was an excuse, Lucifer knew it was an excuse, about needing to prepare for one of his radio shows, or maybe he had said something about a meeting with someone, or something, it didn’t matter in the end. What had mattered was the disappointment on Charlie's face. Lucifer would absolutely not let that disappointment last on his daughter's face.

So he immediately did what he did best. Distraction. He kicked Husk out from behind the bar, having told him that even the bartender deserved a drink sometimes, and began making everyone a specialized drink. A cotton candy martini for Angel Dust, a muddled blackberry old fashioned for Husk, a cherry flavored Vegas bomb for Cherri, a simple spiked strawberry lemonade for Vaggie, and a rubber duckie-themed drink for Charlie. 

A handful of drinks later, and soon Charlie begged for him to drink with them. He tried to argue, even tried to make a mocktail for himself, but that damned cat bartender saw right through it. And so he had a few cocktails as well, and his mixing became less structured, no longer measured, and more of a free pour, which led to way too strong of drinks. The rest was a blurry mess he struggled to keep straight in his head, and now he sat alone, an empty glass with ice melting and a straw stirring it around.

As he stared into the empty glass, the devil let his head rest in his free hand, eyes closing momentarily as he took in a deep breath. Sleep wasn’t something that found him often, and he’d rather do anything besides lay in bed and stare at the wall or ceiling while his mind spun in the fuzzy state it was in currently. That would definitely be a one-way street to spiraling and he had been doing so well at staying focused and keeping his head on straight. If he spiraled now he might leave the hotel, and if he left, he knew he wouldn’t have the energy to return again. 

So Lucifer stood, stumbled, grabbed onto the edge of the bar, and groaned for a moment as the room spun around him. Sitting on the floor sounded like a good idea but he wasn’t sure if he’d be able to get up and what a state to find the King of Hell. No, he couldn’t do that either. It would be at least somewhat respectable if he passed out on the couch inside the parlor of the hotel rather than the floor. 

He forced himself to stand straight, focused his eyes on the couch in the near distance, and moved his legs. He kicked his apple cane, sending it to the floor and rolling away but he couldn’t have cared less about the item. No, he had a goal in mind. Couch. Make it to the couch. His hand moved, his angelic power working without his mind helping, and a small plain rubber duck appeared clutched in his hand. 

He squeaked the duck once, then twice, focus. It helped him focus as much as he hated to admit it, even in the drunken state, and he made it to the couch. Lucifer allowed himself to practically fall face-first into the couch, his entire body fitting along the length of it and he groaned. Perhaps he should’ve eaten before drinking so much, perhaps he should’ve been a bit more firm in his no.

The king really should’ve been better. Better than this, better for his daughter. He shouldn’t have just locked himself away, isolating himself from everyone. That did nothing but hurt Charlie, even if he had thought it was the best thing to do. Now there was a strain between him and her and he wasn’t sure he could ever fix it. He needed to fix it. He needed to. Needed to. 

He needed to have something in the background. Music, a show, a podcast, something to keep his mind focused and not spiraling. A squeak of his duck and he sat up on the couch, eyes searching for a remote or a TV or something. Instead, they found an old radio, one of Alastors radios, and a low grumble escaped his lips. Spiraling might be better than using that demon's radio for anything. 

A squeak of his duck told him otherwise and he sighed. Damn, his mind. Damnit it.

A wave of his hand and the radio turned on. Static filled the room and Lucifer the empty hand over his face before reaching over to fiddle with the knobs on the damned ancient relic, not like he had a lot of room to actually say those words out loud. He wasn’t one to usually want to watch TV, it scrambled the brain, and he was much older than the old radio was.

Turning the dial a few times to the left, and then to the right, the devil settled on a frequency that had been playing soft jazz. The music filled the air and he allowed his head to fall back against the couch as he listened, focusing on the different instruments that he could pick out and recognize. Perhaps if he could sit here long enough, he could get past the drunkenness and skip right past the hangover. Wishful thinking, drunk wishful thinking, but still. The king might not have many hopes left, let this be one that he knew was silly.

The radio started to glitch, or rather, it sounded like someone had turned the dial, interrupting the jazz and filling the room with static. An annoyed look crossed Lucifer's face and he looked up at the small radio. The dial was still pointed at the direction he had left it, but the static continued to get louder and more intense. He frowned, eyebrows furrowed, and he reached forward, turned the dial, and nothing. It remained the same. He groaned audibly now and sat up once more, the duck dropping from his hand and rolling underneath the couch. The radio suddenly shut off.

“Hahaha! What a sight to see! Truly!” The voice with the radio filter over it filled the silence and Lucifer's head snapped in its direction.

There stood Alastor, hands clasped behind his back as he leaned forward over the couch, staring down at the King. The fallen angel growled and went to grab onto the demon, however in his drunken state he had been too slow, or perhaps he overestimated how far he needed to grab, or maybe it was a mixture of both, and he ended up tumbling over the back of the couch onto the floor. A laugh track filled the air and Lucifer could feel the anger and embarrassment flowing through him more. The alcohol inside his system fueled his emotions. 

“You-” The King started as he pulled himself up off the floor, using the couch for support before whipping to face the demon once more. “You are so fucking lucky that Charlie cares for you. I would-would fuck you so hard.” His words slurred and he stumbled to find the words he wanted to say, and even when he wasn’t drunk he had a difficult time saying what he actually meant.

The Radio demon, who now stood a few feet away from the devil, raised an eyebrow, his smile tightening slightly as his head turned to the side slightly, mockingly. He stood there staring at Lucifer with that stupid face, mocking him. Oh, how he would love to wipe that smile off of the other's face.

Alastor stepped to the side as Lucifer rushed at him and watched the smaller man nearly trip and fall once more to the floor. He hummed, and laughed again, loud with the laugh track behind his voice. He was clearly entertained by the devil's inebriated state, which pissed Lucifer off even more. “Do you need help, sire?” He asked.

“Fuck you!” Lucifer snapped as he held his head, feeling a wave of nausea start to wash over him. 

“I would rather not.” Alastor mused, a taunt, and he snickered quietly. “Be careful with saying those words too loud, you might wake a certain resident who wouldn’t be so averse to spending a night with royalty.” 

That hadn’t been what he meant, the Radio demon knew that, he just wanted to get underneath the fallen angels' skin it seemed, and it was working. Lucifer's jaw clenched and he balled his hands into fists, his fingernails digging into the palms of his hands before he took in a deep breath. Then he snapped his fingers, causing Alastors feet to become literally attached to the floor he was standing on.

Lucifer stalked toward him now that the other couldn’t move away and he saw Alastors eyes narrow as his smile tightened, the radio frequencies filling the air erratically. He moved the couch slightly with a wave of his hand so it was right behind the demon and then looked up at his face. The way Alastor stared down at him caused the anger to boil inside his chest more and it gave him the strength he needed. 

The apple cane suddenly appeared inside his hand and the king used it to shove Alastor, shoving him hard with the cane right in his torso, causing the other to fall over the side of the couch onto the cushions as the power holding his feet disappeared completely. 

Lucifer saw a flash of pain across the demon's face, the smile remaining couldn’t hide the pain inside the others' eyes, and for a moment he felt guilty. Then, as Lucifer stood there, stared at the demon as he laid on the couch, catching his breath, a hand over his torso, he could feel it. The fallen angel could feel the angelic energy radiating off of Alastors chest, he could feel it pulsating with every heartbeat and could feel it seeping further into the demon.

He sighed. A deep and long sigh as he realized what he had to do. The image of the disappointed face of Charlie flashing in his mind turned to one of grief and sadness. No, he wouldn’t let that happen to his little girl, he wouldn’t let that look ever cross her face again if there was anything he could do about it. 

And so, even in his drunken state, the anger had completely dissipated and had been replaced. He leaned over the side of the couch, fighting off the next wave of nausea that came rushing forth, and he stared at the demon who glared up at him. Alastor went to get off the couch, wanting to get out from under the King and get away from feeling like he was cornered, however, when he went to move, Lucifer's hand came down and touched his chest. 

A sharp radio noise came from Alastor at the touch, and Lucifer grunted. He undid the buttons on the demon's shirt and pulled away the soaked bandages, staring at the wound intently. “That looks like it-it hurts.” He commented offhandedly as he shook his head. Again, the cane was disregarded, no longer needing it and drunkenly not caring where it ended up at the moment. The fallen angel then hovered his hand over the wound, he knew in his current state he wouldn’t be able to heal it completely, he wouldn’t be able to get rid of the angelic radiation inside the wound that would continue to fester, but he could fight it off some and provide some pain relief. 

The Radio demon had his concerns, that much was evident as his entire body tensed at the light emanating from the king's hand, and he gripped the edge of the couch as he felt the warmth on his torso, but his body relaxed on its own as the intense pain he had been feeling subsided to almost nothing. Alastor blinked twice as he looked down at the wound, watching bright light, and Lucifer smiled confidently, smugly, as he pulled his hand back. That would be all he could feasibly do for the night unless he wanted to pass out and fall on top of the demon. Which would be worse than the floor. 

“I’m going… I’m going to… Fuck.” Lucifer moved away from the demon and shook his head a few times, grunting at his own slurring of his words. He needed to get to bed, even if he wasn’t going to sleep. If he was in his room at least then he wouldn’t embarrass himself so much. 

Alastor, always one to keep a smile on his face, to keep the show going, smirked at the perfect opportunity to spin the scenario back around. “You’re not going to do that with me, sire.”

Lucifer growled and glared at Alastor, immediately regretting what he had done for the demon. “That wasn’t what-what I was fucking saying and-nd you know it.” He snapped. “Going to bed.” Short and to the point, no chance of messing it up that time.