Meanwhile, I sat at the massive desk in my office, clenching my fist so tightly that my nails dug into my palm, watching the aftermath of the recent conflict on the screen.
Kokabiel's attack left behind not only destruction, but also a deep imprint on those involved. Many innocent people suffered, and how many of the academy's students now lie dead?
Also Rias...
She was not physically hurt, but I knew how deeply this incident had wounded her soul. Her pride, her desire to prove something to me, not to become useless again, but to grow, but the harsh reality hit her again.
I felt a wave of fatigue roll through my body. As if I was not just watching what was happening, but living every moment with it. My heart was pounding with unnatural force, each beat seemed ready to jump out of my chest. I was ready to teleport there at any moment and tear Kokabiel apart with my own hands, despite all the persuasion of Azazel, who claimed that everything was under control. But who can vouch for control when madmen with a god complex appear on the scene?
Under control? And this is called "under control"?
I feel the irony approaching, but I quickly brush it off - this is not the time for this. Azazel, with his eternal self-confidence, did not take into account that accidents can ruin any plan. One wrong step - and Rias could...
I drive away this thought, gritting my teeth. No, I will not allow myself to give in to emotions. Not now.
With a sigh, I lean back in my chair, pressing my palm to my forehead, as if trying to erase what I saw. My mind tries to soberly analyze the situation, but emotions clearly interfere. My gaze slid to Grayfia, standing next to me. Her silver hair was perfectly styled, and her face, as always, remained an impenetrable mask. But I noticed how she bit her lip slightly, and her fingers tightened on the edge of her maid uniform. She was worried about Rias, I knew it, despite her cold reserve. This small crack in her armor made me smile involuntarily. Even Grayfia, the Strongest Queen, couldn't completely hide her feelings when it came to our family.
Suddenly, the air shimmered and a communication magic circle flared up in front of me. I recognized Azazel's signature immediately. As I accepted the call, I heard his voice, confident and slightly mocking, making my fists itch.
"Everything went smoothly," he said. "As planned."
"Planned?" I asked sarcastically. "You call that smooth?"
There was a pause on the other end. Then Azazel sighed heavily, his voice growing serious.
"We've discussed this, Sirzechs. More than once. They need to grow, face real threats. Without risk, without pressure, how will they become stronger? You don't want Rias to hide behind your back forever, do you?"
His words hit a nerve. I bit my lip, feeling rationality warring with emotion. He was right, logically. But watching my sister risk her life was unbearable. My thoughts drifted to our meeting with Azazel. Back then, in the secluded room where Shemhazai had brought us together, we had discussed the future. A future where there was no room for senseless slaughter. Where the younger generation, unburdened by the weight of centuries of strife, could take a different path. But old grudges do not disappear with the snap of a finger. A younger generation, unburdened by our mistakes, could be the opportunity for a new future. And so this plan was born: pitting representatives of demons, angels, and fallen ones against a common enemy to unite them. A cliched strategy, but one that has stood the test of time. I was amazed when the Heavens sent Dulio Gesualdo, wielder of the Longinus "Zenith Storm". It was a clear signal: they were serious about an alliance.
"Everything went according to plan, Azazel," I said, my voice cold but doubtful. "But what if things hadn't gone so smoothly? If Rias had…"
"Then she would have learned to deal with the consequences," he interrupted. "Sirzechs, you can't keep her under your wing forever. They have to become stronger than us. You know that."
I clenched my fist, but kept silent. His words were the bitter truth. Rias had to grow up, just like her peerage. But that didn't make my worries any less painful.
"...And believe me, I understand how hard it is to just watch."
I feel how right he is, but it was still hard to agree with him.
"The summit is in seven days in Kuoh," Azazel added at the end. "Be ready, old man. See you."
The connection was cut off, leaving me in oppressive silence.
Of course, this is all understandable, but in what sense "old man"? I'm younger than you, damn it!
Irritation is rising up in me, and with all this worrying, I will definitely soon grow old and gray! And my scarlet hair will turn silver, like Grayfia's! Ah, although...
Meanwhile, I touch my scarlet hair and look at Grayfia's hair, thinking that maybe it would suit me? What!? I'll change my image, so to speak.
I turned to Grayfia, about to ask her opinion. Her gaze, looking into the void, was full of unspoken thoughts. But before I could speak, the air shimmered again. The blue magic circle flared, and Serafall Leviathan stepped out from it. Her white dress, simple yet elegant, emphasized her grace. Two pigtails swayed, her blue eyes shone with enthusiasm, and she held two huge suitcases in her hands. Her voice, full of energy, broke the silence:
"Sirzechs-kun! I'm ready! All my things are packed and I'm in full fighting spirit! ☆" She spread her arms wide, and the suitcases crashed to the floor with a bang, raising a cloud of dust.
My brain froze.
I couldn't help but cover my face with my hand, trying to block it out, but it was too late. Serafall... Her appearance was always like a hurricane, but now it was especially inopportune. I glanced at Grayfia, and saw her scarlet eyes widen and her mouth drop open in shock. Her perfect mask cracked, a rare sight that would have amused me in any other situation, but not this time, since I was clearly in deep trouble!
Serafall, noticing her reaction, frowned. Her smile slowly faded, and she looked at me with a piercing seriousness.
"Sirzechs, you didn't tell her anything, right?" She asked, her voice was quiet, but there was a mixture of disappointment and reproach in it. You didn't need to be a fortune teller to understand her mood.
I felt cold sweat trickle down my back. Grayfia's hand fell on my shoulder, and I flinched. Her grip was soft, but the pressure was purely psychological, as if an invisible press was squeezing me. Her voice, calm and cold, cut me without a knife:
"Don't you want to explain yourself, my husband? What should you have told me? Is there something I don't know?"
That voice… like the scraping of metal on glass. And I understand — here it is, the moment of reckoning.
I began to sweat, my mind feverishly searching for a way out. How could I have forgotten? I remember how in the turmoil of recent events, in the journey to another world, in the political negotiations, I completely… forgot. Forgot that Serafall asked — no, begged — me to talk to Grayfia. She didn't want to hide anymore. She wanted clarity. She wanted to be close, openly.
I promised. And I forgot.
I agreed, but politics and other worries pushed it out of my mind. And now I was trapped between my wife and the woman who loved me as openly as she could.
Serafall looked at me, her blue eyes full of anticipation and slight pain. Grayfia, on the other hand, radiated an icy calm, but I knew that this foreshadowed even greater trouble. I opened my mouth, but the words were stuck in my throat.
What to say? How to explain?
I felt my mind rushing around like a cornered lamb waiting to die. My thoughts were jumbled, my throat was full, and my heart was pounding as if I was back in the middle of a war. But even war was easier! Everything was clear there: there, the enemies - bam! - and the conflict was over! But here? Grayfia and Serafall stood before me, and every second of silence seemed like an eternity. I swallowed hard, trying to find the words, but all that came out was a garbled stream:
"Grayfia, I… it's not what you think… I mean… I was going to say it, but…" My voice was shaking, my words stumbling over each other. Damn it, I was ready to die right now! I felt ridiculous, like a schoolboy caught in a prank, not Satan, the Demon Lord.
How ironic.
My gaze darted to Serafall, begging for support. Her blue eyes met mine, and for a moment we froze, awkwardly exchanging glances. Her long eyelashes fluttered cutely, but damn, it was so out of place! I mentally begged:
Serafall, help me!
But instead of helping, she giggled nervously and blurted out:
"Oh, you know, I should probably go! You can handle this on your own, right?" ☆ takes a step back, ready to flee, her pigtails swinging like retreat flags.
My eyes widened in an instant.
Is she seriously going to dump me?
But before I could protest, Grayfia's icy voice cut through the air, making us both flinch:
"Stop. No one is going anywhere."
Serafall froze, her shoulders tensing. She slowly turned around, giving me a look full of panic and accusation. "What do you mean?" Her eyes read. And then, in a fit of despair, she pointed a finger at me and blurted out:
"It was him! Sirzechs was the one who confused me! I had nothing to do with it!" Her voice was trembling, but there was a childish resentment in it.
I opened my mouth, pointing at myself in shock.
Me?! What do you mean?!
My gaze, full of indignation, pierced Serafall.
Not only are you not helping, but you're throwing me under the bus?
Grayfia raised an eyebrow and said coldly:
"Really?" Her tone was so poisonous that I felt the ground slipping out from under my feet.
That's it. The end. There's no way to get out of this.
With a heavy sigh, I straighten my shoulders, straighten my collar and — in a desperate attempt to save at least a shadow of dignity — point my finger back at Serafall:
"It's her! She started it all! Seducing a married man! It was a trap! A setup!"
My voice was feigned indignation, but I tried to look unperturbed.
Serafall gasped, her eyes widened, and she lost her balance, falling to the floor on her butt. Her face was accusing, and she looked at me reproachfully, clearly promising to take revenge on me in the future! But that future, clearly, may not come!
I turned to Grayfia, waiting for her reaction, but she only covered her eyes with her hand, as if she could not bear to watch this farce. Her voice, full of fatigue, sounded like a sentence:
"What kind of circus are you putting on here? Seriously, Sirzechs, Serafall? You are acting like children, not adults."
My cheeks flushed, my face turned as red as my hair. I felt like a tomato, ready to burn from shame. Serafall, still sitting on the floor, lowered her head. Her black hair covered her face, and she seemed to shrink in size. Her fingers nervously tugged at the hem of her dress, ashamed as she was. Grayfia turned her gaze to me, her scarlet eyes blazing with disappointment. That gaze was worse than any blow of holy energy.
"Sirzechs," she began, her voice calm but heavy, "didn't we discuss that there should be honesty between us? Do you know what hurts the most? It's not that you have… another. It's that you decided to hide it from me. And it all only came to light because your, apparently, lover showed up herself."
I clutch my chest lightly, feeling a phantom pain in my chest. Each syllable hit my heart, making me feel doubly guilty. I lowered my head, unable to bear her gaze.
"You're right, Grayfia," I said quietly. "It's my fault. I'm sorry I kept it a secret. I was going to tell you, honestly." But… the events with Kokabiel, the negotiations… all of that pushed the conversation out of my head." I raised my eyes, trying to put all the sincerity into my words. "About Serafall… We didn't… we didn't cross the line. Really."
Serafall, still sitting on the floor, suddenly raised her head and supported:
"Yes, that's right! We didn't do anything like that! No adult stuff! ☆" Her voice was full of panic, but she immediately stopped short, meeting our murderous gazes. She shrank back, began to move her finger along the floor, muttering something unintelligible.
I decided to leave her alone and focused on Grayfia. Standing up, I stepped towards her and without thinking, hugged her. She shuddered, her hands instinctively tried to push me away, but the resistance was weak. I hugged her tighter, feeling the warmth of her body, and gently whispered in her ear:
"Grayfia, I love you. Sincerely, with all my soul. You have always been and will be my first priority. I'm sorry I made you doubt."
Serafall, hearing this, jumped up and exclaimed indignantly:
"Hey!" Serafall exclaimed indignantly. "That's so unfair! Saying such things in front of… in front of your lover?! Where's the justice?!
Out of the corner of my eye, I saw her puff out her cheeks, desperately offended. An involuntary grin appeared on her lips.
A harem is, damn it, a psychological prison. And I chose this path myself.
When Serafall confessed her love to me, I knew it would come to this. But her sincerity, her energy, her desire to be by my side — all of it touched my heart. I accepted her feelings, but now I'm reaping the consequences. And yet, I wasn't going to back down. Life has taught me one thing: difficulties should be overcome, not avoided.
Grayfia, still in my arms, relaxed. I felt her heart beat faster, her warm breath touching my neck. She said softly,
"We'll talk about this later, Sirzechs. Alone." Her voice was stern, but it no longer had that icy edge. I smiled, feeling that not all was lost.
At that moment, Serafall couldn't take it anymore, and rushed towards me and hugged me from the other side. She was barely up to my chest, but she clung to me so tightly, as if she was afraid that I would disappear. I gently touched her black hair, soft and smelling of mint shampoo. Her voice, slightly stuttering, sounded almost like a whisper,
"Sirzechs… you love me too, right?"
I looked into her blue eyes, full of hope and vulnerability. There was no point in lying.
"Yes, Serafall, I love you too," I said sincerely, stroking her head.
Her eyes sparkled, tears streamed down her cheeks, and she buried her face in my chest, hugging me even tighter. I glanced at Grayfia. Her lips trembled, but she remained silent. Her face softened for a moment, but then returned to its usual restraint. I knew that the conversation with Grayfia was still ahead.