The morning sun cast a pale, wintry glow over the Lucifage territory. In the capital, Grayfia's Heart, snow drifted lazily across the whole territory. Covering the mountainsides in a blanket of white, settling in soft mounds upon frost-kissed trees and the marble balconies of the manor.
Inside the manor, the air was serene. Lucien lay nestled between Velzaria Tiamat and Kuroka, the warmth of their bodies a stark contrast to the chill outside. Their tails wrapped around him, Velzaria's with its dormant, powerful strength, Kuroka's with playful warmth wrapped around his waist. It wasn't just the physical embrace that held him, but the emotional connection, deep and unspoken. A bond of loyalty and power, woven in silence, unbreakable yet delicate. In this moment, Lucien was content, his dreams slipping easily into the depths of sleep.
Everything was peaceful until a swirl of dense teleportation magic broke the stillness.
Outside the manor gates, a carriage bearing the Gremory crest materialized in a shimmer of crimson and silver flame. Its wheels didn't touch the earth, but hovered, humming with ancestral enchantments. The air itself bowed under the weight of its power.
Greyroad emerged from the shadows to open the doors.
The first to step out was Velenan Germory. Her shoulder-length chestnut hair caught the light as the snow fell lightly on her hair. She wore an off-white gown that draped effortlessly over her form, a matching coat adorned with red gemstones that pulsed faintly with magic. Her purple eyes scanned her grandson's budding estate with quiet command. She studied everything with the calm command of a queen, her gaze sharp, unyielding, and immune to deception.
Behind her, Grayfia Lucifuge stepped, her silver hair braided with precision, tied with sapphire ribbons that matched the cold clarity of her gaze. Her maid uniform was immaculate, black and blue, crisp and ceremonial, but it was no disguise. It was armor. Her presence was colder than shadow, sharper than steel. She didn't walk. She glided.
Lucien stood waiting at the entrance, his coat billowing slightly in the residual magic. The cold winds ruffled his hair as his gaze met his mother's and grandmother's. He was no longer the boy they knew. Now, he was the heir they helped train him to be. A Prince who had inherited not just the power of his bloodline, but the weight of being a young lord of an ancient house of the underworld.
Venelana's smile was both warm and sharp. "My, my. Look at you, Lucien. Finally, a proper male heir has graced the underworld."
Grayfia's piercing gaze met his, and for the first time, Lucien saw the flicker of something akin to recognition. "I see you've awakened it, my son," she murmured, her voice betraying the faintest hint of approval. "The shadows grow stronger in you."
Lucien nodded. "I had to, mother."
Venelana stepped forward, brushing a hand against his cheek. "Then it's time we speak of what comes next."
Grayfia's voice was quiet, but final.
"The Council will not ignore this. Nor will the Old Devils."
Lucien exhaled. "Let them come."
Venelana's smile deepened. "That's my grandson."
And as the manor doors closed behind them, the shadows stirred once more in silent acknowledgment.
Narberal Gamma entered the sitting room with perfect grace, offering a deep curtsy as she presented herself. Her uniform was immaculately pressed. Her pristine appearance wasn't just elegance; it was precision, each detail honed by years of discipline and inherited command.
"Lady Venelana. Lady Grayfia," Narberal greeted with a composed, almost regal tone. "May I offer refreshments?"
Grayfia tilted her head ever so slightly, assessing her. "…Trained in noble service, formation wards, and silent movement?"
"Yes, Lady Grayfia. I was raised in the Moonlight Bastion tradition," Narberal answered calmly, her tone neither boastful nor meek, simply truthful.
Venelana's brow arched in genuine surprise. "Moonlight Bastion? That's rare these days…" She exchanged a quick look with Grayfia, eyes glinting with shared understanding. "Wait until I tell Sirzechs. That his son is becoming more and more like him."
Lucien let out a sigh. "Becoming like who now?" he asked with feigning confusion.
Grayfia's lips curved into the rarest of smiles, a fleeting glimpse of warmth beneath the cold precision. "Your father. You seem to share his… maid preference."
Lucien froze mid-step. "Wha—I, uh… I just thought she was efficient!"
"Of course you did," Venelana said sweetly, her eyes glimmering with barely contained mirth. She covered her smile with a hand, the playful note never leaving her voice.
Grayfia's composure returned to its usual stoic composure, though her eyes glinted with a deeper meaning. "She carries herself with impressive discipline. If her background is genuine, you've acquired quite the asset."
Venelana leaned closer, voice dipping. "Careful, dear boy. If you keep collecting beauties like this, half the old families will start sending their daughters disguised as maids."
Lucien coughed. "I only accept the best."
Narberal inclined her head. "I will continue to meet your expectations, my lord."
Lucien turned toward his mother, noticing the subtle way she kept one hand resting near her abdomen. A flicker of instinct tugged at him, though he remained silent. Grayfia's gaze flickered, as though sensing his thoughts.
"Did Kuroka mark you as her mate?" Grayfia asked, her tone almost imperceptible, but the question hung in the air like a challenge.
Lucien stretched his neck, trying to ease the tension that was building. "It happened last night, but before you freak out, Mom... Velzaria agreed since she sees Kuroka as a strong warrior.
Grayfia's ice gaze locked onto him, " Fine, but we will talk about this more later, young man."
Training Beneath Snow and Shadow
The training grounds behind the manor buzzed with energy, the cold air heavy with magic. Yamato clashed blades with Yumi, sparks flying from each exchange. Ghislaine barked instructions at Rangiku and Kuroka, who responded with coordinated precision of both shadow and flame spells, moving in perfect rhythm.
Lucien stood at the center, his shirt tossed aside, breath fogging in the icy air. Dark sigils pulsed along his arms as Lucifuge magic coiled at his feet. He moved like a shadow phantom. His movements became fluid, unreadable, and terrifying. His shadows danced with him, slashing and twisting like living weapons.
"Again," he commanded.
Velzaria Tiamat, sharp blue-eyed and proud, stood off to the side, arms folded, her sharp gaze never leaving him. A single brow raised as she gauged his form. "You're pushing your body past safe thresholds," she commented, her voice a mixture of curiosity and concern.
"I don't want safe," Lucien growled. "I want them to become sovereigns. I want to forge them into the strongest peerage that hell has ever seen."
A sphere of violet-black energy erupted from him, tearing a crater into the snow-covered stone. The force sent waves of energy rippling through the ground, and the air around him grew tense. Lucien's breath hitched, but he remained standing.
Rias appeared at his side, a towel in hand. "You're strong, Lucien. But strength isn't enough. You need to have control."
He took the towel but didn't look away from the ruin he'd caused.
"I know," he whispered.
Velzaria stepped forward, her tone softer now. "You'll be ready. Just don't burn yourself out before the banquet."
Rias crossed her arms, crimson hair flicking with irritation. "Are you going to explain how you ended up marked as Kuroka's mate? Or are you just quietly assembling a harem while we're all distracted?"
Akeno leaned in with a playful glint in her eye. "Ara~ if you're Lucien, I wouldn't mind being part of the chaos."
Lucien didn't flinch. He met their gazes with calm certainty and quiet resolve. "I don't collect women. I earn loyalty. I won't claim anyone who doesn't see me as worthy, not just in power, but in purpose."
He glanced toward Kuroka, lounging with feline grace, then to Akeno, whose teasing smile masked something deeper.
"If they choose me like Kuroka, Akeno, or my other peerage members, it won't be because I asked. It'll be because they saw something worth standing beside."
A pause. Then he added, with quiet conviction:
"I'm not building a harem. I'm building a legacy. I am not like Riser or Diodora, who see women as trophies."
Whispers of Rebellion
The political atmosphere was shifting fast.
While the Underworld's youth sang songs about the Scarlet Court and the Obsidian Maid, the old nobility silently plotted.
House Nefelion sent a sealed scroll requesting a "strategic union." Their daughter was "well-versed in etiquette, conjury, and fertility rituals." Other houses followed suit, some subtly and some more desperately.
House Almandor offered their twin sons to work under Lucien as "aides to the Scarlet Throne." One family even tried to sneak an enchanted wine bottle to him, laced with a truth spell and a proposal contract.
It wasn't fear.
It was containment.
If they couldn't suppress the Gremory rise… they would try to merge with it.
But one name continued to surface more and more in whispers: Albedo, and how would she contribute to the crimson prince's growing power?
A Council Beneath the Crimson Banners
Later that evening, the parlor had shed its elegance for something sharper and transformed into a war room of velvet and flame. The obsidian-inlaid table gleamed beneath the firelight, casting reflections like blood and shadow across the gathered around it.
Venelana sat with regal ease, her fingers laced beneath her chin, eyes gleaming with the kind of amusement only power could afford. Grayfia, ever composed, perched like a blade sheathed in silk. Across from them sat Lucien, Rias, and Velzaria, three heirs of rising legends.
"You've stirred a hornet's nest," Venelana said smoothly, her voice like velvet over steel. "Three noble houses have already asked if you're open to concubines or maids."
Lucien groaned, rubbing his temples. "Is this going to be my life now?"
Grayfia didn't blink. "Unless you intend to rule celibate," she replied, deadpan.
Rias smirked, arms crossed, crimson hair catching the firelight. "They're afraid of us. Of what we're building."
Velzaria's voice was calm, but resolute. "They should because Lucien's path isn't theirs, and neither is mine."
Grayfia's gaze lingered on Velzaria, eyes narrowing with quiet approval.
"You speak like someone who's seen the cost of power," she murmured. "Good. You'll need that clarity. Lucien is no longer just a prince. He's a symbol. A storm wrapped in silk."
Venelana leaned forward, her tone shifting from amused to absolute.
"Which brings us to the gala. It's not just an event, it's a declaration. You'll be watched, envied, and tested. Every smile will be a blade. Every toast, a trap."
Lucien nodded once, his voice low and unwavering.
"Then let them come. I'm not looking for ornaments. I want queens beside me, women who can shape empires, burn kingdoms, rewrite fate. Women who choose me not for what I offer, but for what we can build together."
The fire crackled.
Grayfia's lips curved faintly. Venelana's eyes gleamed.
And somewhere deep in the manor, the shadows stirred, listening.
The Peerage Gathering
Rias and Luicen called their peerage members to join them in the parlor. Kuroka leaned on Koneko's shoulder. Akeno stood beside Rangiku. Yumi stood with Ghislaine and Yamato. Yue stood beside Gasper as he fidgeted nervously.
"You're not children anymore," Venelana began, her voice regal. "The Underworld has taken notice. You aren't just peerages. You are factions."
Grayfia stepped forward, hands clasped behind her back.
"Many of you already know, but for the record: I formally recognize Lucien's union with Velzaria Tiamat."
All heads turned.
Velzaria met their gaze without flinching. "I don't ask for your approval. I only ask for all of you to lend your strength to my mate Lucien."
Rangiku blinked. "Well, she's direct."
"I like her," Ghislaine muttered.
Kuroka rolled her eyes. "As long as she doesn't bite."
Velzaria smiled faintly. "Only if I'm asked."
Grayfia, "my son's other fiancée, is expected to arrive in the coming days."
Velzaria gave a sly smirk. "Ah, so the succubus finally makes her entrance. I seem to remember her boasting she'd arrive ahead of me."
Rias crossed her arms and let out a huff.
"If Albedo is half as dramatic as the rumors say, we'll feel her arrival before we see it."
Venelana let out a light chuckle.
"She may rattle the halls, but she's loyal and fiercely territorial. So be ready."
"We will talk about you marking my son later, Kuroka." Grayfia didn't leave her a chance to speak.
Silent Vows Under Starlight
Later, beneath the twin moons, Lucien stood on the balcony overlooking his snowy domain. His thoughts were still, and his heart steady.
Beside him, Narberal stood like a shadow, unwavering.
"You've made waves," she said quietly.
"I'm not done," Lucien replied. "This is just the snowstorm before the fire."
Narberal turned slightly, her voice barely audible over the wind.
"And fire, my lord… always draws the old shadows out of hiding."
Behind him, the manor lights glowed soft and warm, his court, his legends, his future.
And the world… would tremble at what he
Was becoming.
The Crimson Prince does not kneel.
He ascends.