The courier hadn't even finished catching his breath when the stairway to the upper floor filled with noise. Heavy boots. Not rushing, not hesitant . assertive. A cadence that declared ownership of space long before the bodies walked through it.
Malerion didn't need to look.
He already knew.
The Lesser Goetia Houses had come to "speak."
Alastor murmured inside his mind:
"Delegations… the passive-aggressive kind. Lovely."
Vael casually reached for another cookie.
"Oh! They're fast today."
Quill stared at him like he'd just personally doomed the district.
"Fast means they're terrified. Terrified nobles make terrible decisions!"
Dreg set his jaw.
Donnie checked her pockets out of habit for knives she wasn't allowed to use today.
Rafe positioned himself near the door, relaxed but close enough to intervene.
Liza vanished from sight entirely; the rafters swallowed her like a patient predator.
Malerion lifted a hand.
"No weapons drawn. They came to posture, not fight. Let them talk themselves into corners."
The footsteps grew louder.
Then three figures appeared.
All Lesser Goetia.
Silver-lined cloaks.
Thin, elegant masks.
Wings tucked respectfully not out of humility, but to show "diplomatic intent."
Their presence dragged the room into a cold, formal silence.
The leader, tall and sharp in posture, addressed the room:
"Malerion of Sin Rouge?"
"That would be me," Malerion replied evenly.
Vael waved from his chair, mouth full.
"Hello!"
All three nobles froze.
Their masks hid half their expressions but not the panic stiffening their shoulders.
"…Prince Vaethelion?" the leader whispered.
"Yes," Vael said happily. "The cookies here are delightful."
Bit quietly whispered, "We're dead."
Skit replied, "We were dead two visits ago."
Malerion stepped forward.
"You requested a conversation. Start talking."
The nobles exchanged a nervous glance.
The leader began, voice smooth but cracking slightly:
"We represent several noble houses within the Lust Ring lesser branches of the Goetia bloodline. Our families maintain certain… investments here. Stability is essential. Recently, however, we noticed disturbances."
"Meaning?" Malerion asked.
The noble inhaled slowly.
"Unusual activity. Changes in supply routes. Emotional pressure in the district shifting. Movement patterns inconsistent with prior history."
His eyes traveled unwillingly to Vael.
Vael smiled.
"I cause disturbances sometimes."
The nobles looked like they wanted to dissolve into smoke.
Malerion folded his arms.
"Let me guess. You think Sin Rouge is forming a political alliance with a High House."
The nobles twitched painfully.
Donnie muttered, "Give them a minute, they'll faint."
The leader spoke carefully:
"We… fear certain appearances may be misinterpreted. A prince descending into a slum repeatedly is"
"Suspicious?" Vael offered.
"Yes!" one noble blurted before slapping a hand over his own mouth.
Vael frowned.
"But I came because I was bored."
Silence.
Utter silence.
Rafe broke it with a slow, horrified whisper:
"…At least he's honest."
Malerion stepped closer to the delegation.
"You are worried," he said plainly, "that Vael visiting us means something. That we are forming alliances. That we have motives."
The nobles didn't answer which was the same as answering.
Malerion continued:
"Let me make this clear. There is no alliance. No political bond. No hidden agenda. The prince visits because he wants to."
Vael nodded, proud of himself.
"Exactly!"
Relief washed over the nobles' bodies.
For exactly one second.
Then Vael added, bright as ever:
"And I'll keep coming. The atmosphere here is fun."
Dreg exhaled loudly.
Quill whispered a prayer for patience.
Liza made a sound Malerion had never heard from her before something between a sigh and a threat.
The nobles froze again, panic resurrected.
"Y-Your Highness," the leader croaked, "perhaps… reducing these visits would prevent misunderstandings"
Malerion cut him off.
"Are you trying," he asked softly, dangerously, "to tell a prince where he may or may not go?"
All three nobles bowed so fast they nearly tripped.
"NO, OF COURSE NOT!"
Vael licked a crumb off his thumb.
"I go where I want. That's what being an adult means. Isn't that obvious?"
The nobles furiously nodded terrified to imply otherwise.
Malerion straightened.
"We are under pressure from someone. You know that. Someone has been tampering with our supplies. Flooding gangs with coin. Stirring rumors."
The nobles visibly flinched.
"We have no knowledge of any such acts," the leader lied politely.
Malerion stepped closer until his shadow touched theirs.
"Stop."
Not a threat.
A command.
It worked better than any blade.
"If," the leader croaked, "these… disturbances… cease, can we consider this matter closed?"
"Yes," Malerion said. "You can."
Vael added helpfully:
"And no more assassins. They were very rude."
The nobles' faces turned ghost-pale.
"S-Someone sent assassins?" the leader squeaked. "We had no involvement!"
"Good," Malerion said. "Make sure it stays that way."
The delegation bowed again, nearly bending in half.
"We thank you for your… clarity."
And then they retreated fast, stumbling, desperate to escape the room.
The door closed.
Silence.
Then
Quill sank onto a stool, shaking.
"I aged twenty years in twenty minutes."
Dreg cracked his neck. "Next time he visits, I'm pretending to be furniture."
Liza reappeared behind Malerion.
"They won't attack openly now. Too scared. But they'll try something subtle. They always do."
Donnie nodded. "The delegation wasn't a threat. It was a warning. They're afraid of being blamed if anything escalates."
Rafe added:
"They'll try other angles. Proxy pressure. Rumors. Financial squeezes. Nothing direct."
Malerion looked at Vael.
The prince blinked, puzzled.
"…Did I help? I feel like I helped."
Malerion exhaled not quite a sigh, not quite amusement.
"You did," he said quietly. "More than you realize."
Vael brightened instantly.
"Excellent! Then I'll come again tomorrow"
"NO," half the room yelled.
Vael flinched.
Malerion stepped closer.
"Maybe not tomorrow. But soon. And when you do… come exactly like today. No ceremony. No guards. No formalities."
Vael tilted his head.
"That makes it less dangerous?"
"For us?" Malerion replied. "Yes."
"For me?"
Malerion gave him a small, honest smile.
"For you… probably."
Vael considered that, then shrugged happily.
"Good enough!"
Alastor's voice buzzed through Malerion's mind like a pleased purr.
"His presence is a shield made of chaos. Beautiful, isn't it?"
Malerion didn't answer.
But he looked at Vael
this curious, clueless, politically explosive prince
an advantage maybe a friend but also a possible threat and he sighed.