The air in Arturo's tiny apartment crackled with a tension thicker than the Chiapas molasses his abuela swore by. It wasn't much but he was proud of what he had, all basic rooms in a tidy and compact design that mixed them together in a single space.
Across the room, Amelia sat on the threadbare futon, her crimson form radiating a cold anger that sent shivers down Arturo's spine. Unlike the usual playful glint in her obsidian eyes, they were now pools of molten obsidian, reflecting the flickering worry in his own hazel depths.
—This isn't working, Arturo.
Amelia's voice was a silken purr laced with shards of ice. Centuries of draining love from mortals had honed her words into weapons, and Arturo winced under the weight of her unspoken accusation.
Arturo ran a hand through his already messy fur. Arturo, a hellhound of grey and black fur, red eyes, a notched ear and an inverted counter shaded fur pattern. 28 years old, currently unemployed, with a succubus girlfriend named Amelia. Slim figure but still masculine, he is the embodiment of living life in the slow lane.
—But I don't get it. —He pleaded, the familiar warmth he usually felt in her presence replaced by a chilling emptiness—. What did I do wrong?
But the apparent ignorance tasted like ash in her mouth. They'd been stumbling along for months, the spark that had ignited their connection –perhaps fuelled more by stolen life force than genuine love –fading with every sunrise. The playful nights spent tangled in sheets, the stolen kisses that left him breathless, all felt like a distant memory.
Amelia scoffed, the sound echoing in the cramped space.
—Don't insult me, Arturo. I can feel it. The way you look at me… it's like I'm just another trinket collecting dust in your corner. —Her voice cracked; a flicker of vulnerability surprising him—. You take me for granted.
Shame burned in Arturo's gut. He cared for Amelia, in his own way. But the thrill of their connection, the exhilarating dance with darkness, had dulled into a monotonous routine. He craved… nothing more, he was satisfied. While Amelia truly loved him and did everything to show it, as time went by Arturo would do less and less to do the same.
For her it was as if Arturo didn't truly love her and just "kept" her for the sake of not being alone. She felt her feelings were being insulted and degraded by his indifference.
Meanwhile Arturo truly didn't understand the current dilemma. He loved her in his own way but clearly wasn't working for her. In one hand he wanted to ask for guidance and maybe some suggestions from her, but deep within he knew that she had made her mind long before this conversation, whatever mistake he had done could not be undone by now.
Silence took over the place as Arturo wondered in his mind, Amelia growing inpatient as no response was given to her claims, only looking at the sad face of a confused hellhound –the succubus once more felt like she had been talking to a wall.
The flicker of vulnerability in Amelia's eyes vanished, replaced by a cold fury that sent a shiver down his spine. He knew then, with a sickening certainty, that their unorthodox love was well and truly over.
—You'll never understand love, Arturo.
Amelia hissed; her voice laced with venom. She rose from the futon, her crimson form towering over him.
—This... whatever this was between us, it was never real. It was just a game, a cheap thrill for you, while I gave you everything.
Arturo opened his mouth to protest, to plead for her to understand, but the words caught in his throat. He knew, deep down, that Amelia was right. He had taken her for granted, content to bask in the excitement of their connection without truly nurturing it.
—I'm done, Arturo. —Amelia continued, her eyes narrowing—.
Before Arturo could react, Amelia's form began to shimmer and distort, as if she were dissolving into the very air around them.
—Next time you find someone, at least try to love back. —She spat, her voice echoing through the room—.
With a final, piercing glare, Amelia vanished, leaving Arturo alone in the suddenly colder, emptier space. He stared at the spot where she had been, a strange mix of regret, confusion, and a twinge of something akin to loss swirling within him.
He murmured her name, the name falling from his lips like a prayer. But she was gone, leaving him to grapple with the aftermath of their tumultuous relationship.
***
Chapter 1 – The princess
As the night faded away, Arturo wondered about what Amelia had said, wandering around her point of view to find the answer to his failure, but like any men; he couldn't explain himself. Could he had loved more? Were actions louder than words? Not enough "I love you" being said?
***
That same day, as the clock approached midnight, Amelia was meeting with a mysterious imp. He was short, skin red and black, yellow sclera and black eyes.
—Very well, he will now find love wherever he goes. —The imp laughed—. What a curious way to hand punishment, I must say.
Amelia remained silent as she paid him for his services, leaving the scene as the night fell. Her plan? Have Arturo break as many hearts as he could; then face the consequences of his egoism.
***
The next morning, Arturo woke up with a strange feeling, almost as if the air around him had changed. He stretched his limbs and went about his usual routine, brewing a strong cup of coffee to help him shake off the lingering melancholy from Amelia's departure.
As he sipped his coffee, Arturo couldn't help but feel a sense of unease. Something was different, but he couldn't quite put his finger on it. Shrugging it off, he decided to head out and run some errands, hoping that getting out of the apartment would help clear his mind.
As Arturo stepped out onto the street, he immediately noticed the lingering gazes of several women passing by. At first, he brushed it off, thinking nothing of it. But then, a group of young women crossed his path, giggling and whispering to each other as they stole glances in his direction.
Arturo furrowed his brow, feeling self-conscious. "What's going on?" he muttered under his breath.
He recalled all those humorous images about men not being able to find a partner but having abundance of prospecting women as soon as they started a relationship; with the obvious difference being he was getting sudden attention -after- ending his relationship. A part of him liked their gazes, but another was still worried about Amelia. Maybe he could try to call her later.
Meanwhile, deciding to ignore the strange behaviour, Arturo continued on his way, intent on reaching the grocery store. However, as he approached the entrance, the clerk behind the counter suddenly perked up, her eyes widening as she caught sight of him.
—Welcome! —She exclaimed, a bright smile spreading across her face—. How can I help you today, handsome?
Arturo blinked, taken aback by the woman's forwardness. The clerk leaned forward, resting her elbows on the counter as she gazed at him adoringly. —
Well, if there's anything I can do to help, you just let me know. —She purred—.
Arturo felt a blush creep up his neck as he hurriedly made his way through the store, grabbing the items he needed and rushing to the checkout. As he paid for his purchases, the clerk made sure to "accidentally" brush her fingers against his, giggling coyly.
Thoroughly confused and unsettled, Arturo quickly exited the store, only to be met with a similar reaction from the women he passed on the street. They would smile, wave, or even go so far as to openly flirt with him, much to his bewilderment.
"What the hell is going on?" Arturo muttered, quickening his pace back to the safety of his apartment.
Once inside, he leaned against the door, running a hand through his hair.
Little did Arturo know; the curse was only just beginning to take hold.
***
That day, Arturo had an important gig, a friend of his had gotten him a spot as guard for one of the many Goetia. All he had to do was to be at the pride ring in time and looking his best. After all, royalty doesn't hire just any random hellhound to care for their safety.
But, being so lost still; not even once did that appointment crossed his mind. He had to contact Amelia first and foremost; figure out more of why she left him and try and get her back. Yet not once did she pick up the phone.
—Amelia, please. We can work this out.
Arturo left one voicemail after the other, until eventually, it rang no more. He tried to reach her on social media, message apps, anywhere –she was gone.
By the time he had given up, it was hours past the appointed schedule, and he knew he was fucked. Still, he made the run for it –reaching the pride ring in record time and making a final sprint towards his fiend's workplace.
It was an odd-looking office space, inside of an unstable building that should have been demolished long ago.
Shortly after he knocked on the door, an incubus opened, greeting Arturo as if he was a potential client –at least until he explained why he was there. The incubus checked Arturo out and was also interested in him; almost as much as the women he had encounter thus far, but given he was an incubus Arturo made nothing of it. After all these were creatures of lust.
The incubus was slim, white hair, small black wings, red skin and had a piercing on his left ear as well as an upside-down cross choker.
—Vortex, it's a friend of yours… —The incubus shouted back into the depts of the office—.
—In a moment, Josh! —Vortex is heard—.
A small brief moment of silence is shared between Josh and Arturo, but ultimately short lived by Vortex's reaction to Arturo's tardiness.
—What the hell, dude? —Vortex quickly complained as he came out the door—. You are at least a good two hours late.
Vortex is a huge grey hellhound, at least compared to Arturo's slim figure. Blind right eye with multiple scars and a tattoo on his right forearm. He wore a black shirt with a grey leather jacket, red spikes on each shoulder and ripped sleeves.
—Look, let's just ignore that for a moment. —Arturo seemed guilty of his failure—. I just need this one chance.
—I don't know Art… You kinda making me look bad here. —Vortex scratched the back of his head—.
—Just… try.
—Fine… But you have been warned. I am NOT going to vouch for you on this.
Without much of a word from Vortex, a succubus' voice was heard. She was curious as what was going on.
—Is everything ok? —She is slowly making herself seen—.
—Oh- Yeah. Sorry, this is the friend I told you about. —Vortex opens the door, revealing the succubus—. Verosika, Arturo. Arturo, Verosika.
Verosika was as attractive as you would expect from a succubus. Her face feminine, her figure like an hourglass, nice sized chest, long legs with thigh highs that reached almost to her crotch, a dangerously small one-piece dress. Arturo was shocked as soon as his eyes saw her.
Even she laid her eyes on Arturo, albeit for his curse and not for his "good looks" but still, the silence was back, and it was awkward.
But Verosika, being the creature that she is and the fact her species is born out of lust –she could feel something was odd, and even though the power of Arturo's curse was strong she could sense an oddity beyond explanation. The moment this occurred, the door was shot closed.
Not much is heard beyond muffled rambling, but Arturo was left surprised as the door closed on his face before he could even say a word –and he was left like that for a couple of minutes at best, a handful at worst.
At least until Vortex opened the door just to say:
—Sorry Art, boss says no.
And closing the door again. Seconds later Arturo would receive a message from Vortex on his phone with an emoji of an imp shrugging their shoulders in disbelieve.
Once again things made no sense to him, but he was beginning to see a pattern in all of it –so he either ignored it for the sake of simplicity or as a coping mechanism to avoid feeling some form of guilt that could lead him to believe this was somehow his fault. Women simply never acted odd around him, he was as average as they come or probably even below said average anyways. The slim variant of the ugly bastard on those Netotare hentai he sometimes watched.
(Of course he didn't draw this connection himself, if you were wondering. This was just for your mental image.)
Feeling defeated by these events, Arturo was deep in thought as he walked towards the exit door. He was so focused on himself the voices of a woman and a man arguing never reached him in time, so when this pair came in as he was going out –Arturo ended up hitting his head against the lady, to whom he swiftly apologized.
—Shit, sorry. —Arturo scratched his head—.
—Fuck, dude! —The lady complained—.
—Are you ok, Loonie? —The men said—. Hey! Watch where you are walking, retard!
The lady was a hellhound, as tall as Arturo, big, long grey hair and a notched ear just like his, she wore piercings and a crop top as well as tight short shorts. She was astonishingly pretty to Arturo, he even felt genuinely sorry instead of the empty apology one throws around in these cases.
The man was a really short imp, red with white markings and a black mark on his forehead. He wore all black with some red details.
Arturo was lost in the hellhound's eyes, white as snow and a red sclera that felt like a pool of blood. She was too as soon as their eyes met, the curse taking effect on her on the spot.
—I… I mean… sorry too, I guess… —The hellhound replied blushing—.
The imp was not happy of seeing her react that way, especially after Arturo had blushed as well in response. This was not happening in his watch.
—Yeah, yeah. Don't apologize to him Loona. —He glanced at Arturo—.
And since Loona did not reply to him, the imp simply dragged her into their side of the building, closing a door that read "I.M.P" on it.
—Fuck, Blitz! Chill! —Loona complained as the door closed—.
Expecting something else to happen if he stayed, Arturo made a dash to the exit instead –as if that would keep him safe, just to bump into more people right outside the door.
Two more imps, clearly a couple, and none other than the dark prince Stolas, in the flesh. Why was a prince here? Why in company of these imps? After all, a hellhound compared to a member of the Goetia family was like comparing an eagle to a worm –more than feeling sorry he felt genuine fear seeing this tall man after crashing with him.
—Oh, my. —Stolas gasped as Arturo hit the floor—. Are you allright little guy?
—Y-Yes… I-I'm fine! —Arturo was in panic—. I-Stolas-Your Highness…
—Oh, don't bother. —Stolas giggled, then his voice turned serious—. Just move, please.
—Oh! Wait, sir! —The male imp ran to Stolas—. This hellhound here might be of use for what you mentioned to Blitz.
—C'mon Mox', look at him all thin. —The female imp replied with a country accent—.
—Yes, Millie. But what other options does Your Majesty got?
Stolas seemed bothered by the prolonged interruption, but knowing the imp was right.
—What's your name, hellhound? —Stolas turned to see Arturo—.
—Arturo, sir. Arturo Wolff.
—Are you employed at the moment? —Stolas continued, returning to his flamboyant voice—. Do you work somewhere?
—No. I was here to-
—Can you get to my palace tomorrow morning? I need some extra hands. —Stolas interrupted—.
—O-Of course, sir!
—Splendid! —Stolas once again wanted to rush in—. Can we go now?
All three of them continued their way as Arturo was left speechless, only getting some last words from Millie.
—Oh, don't worry honey. He' just gotta' thing for our boss…
Meanwhile, Arturo was once again proved wrong in the idea of being safe anywhere at the moment. Worse yet, he now had more questions left unanswered. How did Millie did not seem interested in him? How did he survive a Goetia lord? And just what the fuck was going on? Not wanting answers to those questions, he was going home for the rest of the day.
Like the main character of a videogame during a silent mission, Arturo took as many precautions as possible to not deal with any other living creature for the rest of the trip –getting home in one piece and free. At least until tomorrow, when he would need to do the same thing in his way to Stolas' palace to find out about this new "job" –whatever it was.
Until then, he simply had something to eat, played videogames as he normally would and hit the bed after losing 10 matches in a row to whom most likely was a 10-year-old with no parent supervision –just to do the same but on his phone but to a 30-something dude with too much money to spend on gacha games. Either way this day ended in the same low note it started at, and only time would tell if the note would ever get higher.
I would add something of comfort here to ease the pain, but Arturo simply had stepped on shit. Just that this shit was invisible, undetectable and he could not wash it off.
***
The next day, Arturo's day went as fast as it could. He woke up feeling dead inside as one would expect from a terrible prior day, jumped to the shower, had breakfast, everything –just to be at Stolas' palace as soon as possible and if he was lucky; leave without a scratch. Not that he needed more of those anyway.
Once he was ready, he took haste and reached the palace in what seemed to him, record time. With how influential and powerful the Goetia are, it wasn't a surprise that he knew where the palace was without many instructions besides his phone's GPS. And with VoxTek delivering all sorts of coverage in everyday royal drama, he wasn't surprised at the building's imposing architecture –then again things always look a little different in real life as they do on TV.
—State your business. —A voice is heard from an intercom as soon as Arturo rang the doorbell—.
—I'm Arturo Wolff. I was requested to come here to work.
—One moment.
After a couple seconds of silence, the gigantic front doors opened. Like a haunted mansion, the doors spread to a path made of stone that lead to the actual palace –with a garden surrounding the building with the greenest greens and beautiful plants of all sorts. Stolas was known for his affinity to plants and herbs, as well as stones and the stars –so, everything had a role to play in the visuals that plagued him. It was like entering a different dimension.
Right in he went anyways, the main doors opening to him as the prince himself showed his face.
Arturo's ears quickly lowered, intimidated by his demeanour. But despite his serious look, Stolas seemed to be rather relaxed compared to the previous day.
—Well, you did come. That is already a surprise. —Said Stolas, looking down on Arturo—.
—G-Good day, Your Majesty, sir.
Arturo stood outside still trying to figure how to act and not get killed in the process, but Stolas had no time to waste; so, with some obvious body language he showed the hellhound inside, who came in like a scared dog who's shown their new home.
The palace was impressive to say the least. The architecture was astonishing, and the décor was one of a kind with how fauna, astrology and geology matched in a single tone.
—The job is simple, most of your kind is usually hired for it anyways so I hope you already know what to do. —Stolas began giving directions to Arturo—.
Stolas' wording was such that made it seem like Arturo had no choice but to accept this job, already giving him instructions on what he was going to do, how to do it, etc.
Arturo was quickly to pick this up, but then again; saying no to this offer was a bad idea when he was unemployed, and royalty usually paid fairly well anyways.
—Since I divorced, my ex-wife has been trying to get back to me. —Stolas continued—. Now, usually you wouldn't have any details about this type of information. But it is crucial that you do, since you need to know who you are going to go against.
Arturo's eyes widen, thinking he was going to be fighting against a Goetia, Stella herself or worse. But Stolas wasn't finished yet:
—Of course you are not going to be confronting her, I don't think she's that stupid. But she will try to send agents to do her dirty work. —Stolas made a pause—. Specially that half-blood imp, Striker.
As the conversation continued, both made their way to a corridor that seemed to be dedicated to living quarters. The very first door was Stolas' room, followed by another door with multiple different stickers and posters pasted on it. The princess' room.
Arturo closed his eyes hoping that what had happened the day prior would not happen again. He even began wishing for his post to be as far as possible from her. Having the princess act up in front of him was another landmine ready to send him to super hell –if that even existed.
—Furthermore, as you surely know, I have a daughter, and nothing matters more to me than her safety…
"Here it comes", Arturo said to himself.
—So, you will be keeping her safe for me. There is no doubt Stella might try something with Via to ultimately hurt me. So, can you do that?
— "What am I supposed to say?!" —Arturo mentally screamed—. "Sorry sir, since yesterday I've noticed women tend to like me a lot. Might be a bad idea."
Arturo took a deep breath and finally agreed. Since she was in her room there was no way, they could be together, and any other instance she would probably be around other people, so if anything happened there would be witnesses –or in any case he could be approached by other women instead of the princess. At least that's what he hoped for.
—Consider it done, Your Majesty.
—Perfect. —Stolas smiled for a change and knocked on Via's room's door—. Via! My dear!
—Coming, Dad… —The voice of Octavia is heard—.
Arturo's face turned to pale but then changed to hope, if Octavia acted as expected and Stolas was able to witness this in action, he could probably help him solve it too.
Then the door opened, Octavia walking out of her room in her usual morning attire, a long and loose black shirt with a pink star in the center and nothing more.
—What is it, dad? —Via stretched her arms, snoring afterwards—.
—Via, this is Arturo. He'll be watching over you. —Stolas moved to show him to her—.
The moment Arturo entered Octavia's line of sight the deal was sealed. For her, it was like watching an Adonis in person.
Out of nowhere she began to fix her hair, even play with her shirt as she twisted her arms behind her back. Her blush being as clear as ever from her pure white face while her tail moved gently.
Octavia's long, raven-black hair framed her delicate features, her crimson eyes shimmering with an alluring intensity. Despite her obvious youth, there was an undeniable grace and elegance to her movements.
As Stolas ushered Arturo forward, Octavia's gaze locked onto him, her expression shifting from indifference to one of pure captivation.
—H-Hi, nice to meet you. —Octavia breathed—.
Her voice barely above a whisper. Gone was the petulant scowl, replaced by a look of awe and wonder.
Stolas chuckled, placing a gentle hand on Arturo's shoulder. His grip was strong; he clearly noticed Octavia's change in behaviour and read her like a book.
Octavia took a step forward, her eyes never leaving Arturo's face.
—N-nice to meet you, too. —Arturo replied trying to ignore Stolas' strong grip—.
Arturo felt a blush of his own rising to his cheeks under Octavia's intense gaze. But he was usure if that same blushing was because of her beauty or because of the insanity of the situation. Instead of Stolas seeing the scene as weird and impossible, he truly believed her daughter was within the realms of naturality. Arturo stammered, offering her a small, nervous smile as he tried to remain calm.
Octavia's beak curled into a coy smile, her crimson eyes sparkling with newfound delight.
—The pleasure is all mine. —She purred, taking another step closer to him—.
Stolas watched the interaction with a knowing twinkle in his eye, a small smile playing on his lips.
—I'll leave you two to get better acquainted. —Stolas said—.
Slipping out of the room and closing the door behind him, Arturo was now trapped with Octavia. The last words he heard from the Goetia prince being "She's seventeen".
Arturo's face was that of defeat. Stolas saw it happen, a Goetia of his calibre, and yet he did not feel anything off about it.
— "And to lock me in her room…" —He whispered to himself—. "Can't I just guard outside?"
Octavia's gaze never left Arturo, her expression one of pure enchantment, but noticing his expressions perfectly.
—I-I'm sorry… —She began, her voice still sounding gentle and sweet—. My dad's a little paranoid ever since… well, mom's kinda…
Arturo swallowed hard, suddenly feeling very aware of his surroundings.
—Don't worry, Your Majesty. —Arturo tried to comfort her as she sounded apologetic—. I don't need all the details.
Octavia took another step closer, her eyes narrowing coyly, looking down in self-shame.
—You can call me Via. —She purred again, her fingers lightly brushing against her own arms—.
—Let's just meet halfway, Lady Via.
Despite it all, Arturo tried to keep things as formal as possible. After all, he was in front of a princess and most importantly, he was an adult; he had to behave as such.
The owl princess noticed this too, giving her a moment of self-awareness which she used to try and cut the awkward moment from getting any worse.
—S-Sounds good. —Her voice cracked as it returns to her usual tone—.
But it wouldn't be that easy for either of them. Arturo made the side of the door his new post and Octavia made a run to her bed hoping that that was the end of it –of course, it did not work.
Silence between the two was worse than the conversation they tried so hard to run away from, or at least it was for Via, who kept glancing at Arturo while tried to avoid said glance.
She had to break the ice, and she had to do it now. Her body craved for it. Even seeing Arturo look at his phone from time to time intrigued her as she wondered what he was looking at or who was he talking with.
"Could he have a girlfriend?" —Octavia wondered to herself—. "Should I ask him?". "No, it's too forward!"
She was trying too hard to remain calm, sitting on her bed, looking at her phone, listening to music. But her eyes always returned to him over and over.
Eventually she was so overwhelmed that it angered her, and Arturo noticed it too. This was the first time he was with a girl for an extended period of time since this curse began, maybe her symptoms had evolved? Too much "exposure" turning love to hatred? Arturo simply closed his eyes and said to himself, "You can do it."
—Is everything all right, Lady Via?
—Y-Yes! Yes… A-Are you all, right? —Octavia was flustered, her eyes screamed "What kind of follow-up question is that?!"—.
"I mean, how can he be all-right when I'm acting like this?!" She kept scolding herself.
—I'm doing fine. —Arturo smiled, trying to keep things simple—.
—Great!... That's great!...
For the first time Arturo felt some form of guilt. So far, he had seen himself as a victim of some weird luck, but now he started to realize that if there was a victim here, was Octavia –or in any case, any girl he had talked to since his breakup. This was his first glance at understanding what Amelia had told him.
Now all he wanted was to apologise to her. But how would he even do that? If he explained things to her, that would only depreciate her feelings, and that was the exact reason Amelia had left him in the first place. Wasn't it?
Maybe if he showed her how uninteresting he actually was, her common sense could make her lose that false attraction. Like something that looks pretty from a distance but as you approach it becomes less appealing.
—If I may speak. —Arturo began his act. If he was going to be her guard, maybe he could be the boring and disciplined one—.
—Y-Yes?
—Your father suggested for us to know each other. Correct? So-
—Sure! —Octavia interrupted Arturo; this was exactly what she needed—.
—Well, then ask away. (Great! If she starts, I can pretend to not care to know her, and she'll feel ignored.) —Arturo offered her the room—.
—How old are you?
—I am 28. (Perfect question, princess! I'm too old for you!) —Arturo nodded—.
—Oh… cool… I'm seventeen… b-but I'll be 18 soon!
Arturo chuckled while screaming on the inside: "WHAT IS THAT SUPPOSED TO MEAN?!"
—A-And how did my dad find you? —Octavia continued—.
—Well, I was looking for a job and he offered me one… Sort-of… A couple of imps where with him and-
—Oh… —Octavia interrupted him—. Blitzy…
—Uh… Who?
—It's the imp my dad cheated mom with… He's the reason for all of this… Believe me, you'll meet him eventually.
—I will keep that in mind.
—And what do you like to do?
Splendid question, now all he had to do was list the manliest shit he can think of.
—You know, playing videogames, going to the gym…
—The gym? —Octavia chuckled—.
Arturo's slim figure did not scream exercise, let alone discipline, but so far, he felt like it was working.
—I like reading… I-It's fun! Like, there's this book… has 7 kingdoms, you know, like the seven sins. They all want power and…
As Octavia narrated the plot, Arturo realized the book she was talking about, and his tail inevitably began to swing left to right gently. Neither of them realized this –which let Arturo keep his act a little longer.
—I… really don't read. I know how to… I just…
—N-No I didn't mean it like that! I don't... you know… My mom might though… —Octavia embarrassed herself, thinking she said something she shouldn't have and then trying to fix it—.
Then silence came for a moment. Arturo felt relieved by it, but then again, he also felt guilty for letting the conversation end like that.
—Don't worry Lady Via. —Arturo gave her a smile—. A mind needs books like a sword needs a whetstone. I am a guard, not a scholar after all.
Octavia smiled, recognizing the line from the book and how he changed it.
—I guess it's all about using your strengths wisely…
Seeing her smile brought something to Arturo he did not expect. Maybe the job wasn't that bad after all and maybe his newfound charisma wasn't as troublesome as he expected. But even then, the feeling of guilt laid inside of him.
—But why did you lie, then? —Octavia continued—.
—A guard is supposed to protect, isn't him? You can't do that with a book.
—Didn't someone said the society that separates its scholars from its warriors will have its thinking done by cowards and its fighting by fools?
Arturo nodded with a slight chuckle. The sense of connection between the two turning palpable as the sun reached its highest point in the sky, getting interrupted only by the ring of a bell in the distance.
—Shit! It's lunchtime already?! —Octavia ran from her bed to her wardrobe—.
As Octavia is rummaging through her wardrobe, trying to find a suitable outfit. She reached for a particularly high shelf, losing her balance, falling backwards. Arturo, hearing the commotion, quickly rushes in.
—Lady Octavia! Are you alright?
Octavia sprawled on the floor, clutching her angle, wincing in pain.
—Yeah, just hit my leg; that's all.
—Let me see.
He kneeled down beside her, and gently examined her ankle. As he helped her up, their bodies brushed against each other. Octavia blushed intensively as he helped her sat down.
Because she was still wearing only her shirt, she felt almost naked at that moment, causing her heart to race like hell as Arturo's hands revised her ankle, right after sharing such an intimate moment.
—Everything seems fine. —Arturo assured her—.
But as their eyes met, he realized how flustered she was and froze, already expecting the worse to happen. But nothing did, only Octavia moving her eyes around in embarrassment as she hugged herself.
—I'll be outside if you need anything else. —He continued—.
She simply nodded as he returned to his post. Arturo trying to hold himself together from his own embarrassment.
Was this also a part of his curse? To feel this connection, grow just from such a simple interaction? He brushed it off, taking it as just a coincidence of sorts. After all, he was still somewhat emotional too. A breakup isn't something that goes away in a day or two –Amelia still wandering off in his mind as he compared these moments of awkwardness with the ones he had with her back then. A relapse of sorts –he presumed. That at least gave him peace of mind.
Octavia, on the other hand, who was simply a victim of circumstance, truly believed in her feelings. For her everything was as real as it could ever be. She loved his voice, his looks, his charisma.
As a regular teenager would, she couldn't help the fantasy of the damsel in distress, being saved by her knight in shining armour. A matured and wise man that would guide her.
She cursed being young, seeing their age gap as an obstacle to destroy. Maybe if she could prove that she was mature enough? "But how can you do that when you are so clumsy?!" She thought to herself still holding to her ankle as she tried to capture the feeling of Arturo's embrace.
—That's right! —she purred to herself—. I have to see this as a strength! And use it wisely.
Her heart pumped up again, he was her protector after all. With haste she took what she felt were her best clothes for this newfound plan of hers.
A pair of long; high-heeled black boots –just enough, right underneath her knees. A square-patterned miniskirt, but that left enough to one's imagination, two shades of brown, almost greyish and deep black laces hold everything in place (and if you looked hard enough, a black underskirt). Next, she wore a loose white sleeveless shirt, holding to dear life by two thin strings that rested on her shoulders –her small chest almost visible from the aggressive v-cut cleavage and at the meeting point of it, a small zipper head that was just there for looks.
Finally, a black choker with a little bell in the center. It made no sound but swinged left and right to her head movements like a gentle breeze.
The contrast between her body and her clothes was as clear as night from day. Like a doll taken right from the toy store as it opens to it first customer.
Like a Lolita, highly influenced by Victorian clothing and styles from the Rococo period. A very distinctive property of Lolita fashion is the aesthetic of cuteness, something she nailed to the letter. This clothing did exactly what she ought to do, work on her strengths: "Gothic", "Classic", and "Sweet".
Arturo couldn't stop admiring her. The outfit had done exactly as it was supposed to –give her that look of innocence and weakness that he just wanted to keep safe.
Meanwhile, Octavia blushed intensively; trying to hide her smile as she did her best not to return eye contact. But as embarrassment got too much to handle, she ran to lunch –leaving Arturo behind.
He simply stood there, finally having real time to breathe.
—Sorry I'm late! —Octavia rumbled to Stolas, going back to her common self—.
Stolas, who was comfortable reading a book, smiled and took it away.
—Oh, Via. I'm sure you didn't mean to.
—Yeah… I just caught up with uh- stuff.
—No need to explain darling. You can sit down now.
Octavia felt something was off with Stolas' behaviour but made nothing of it yet. Sitting down to eat but still somewhat anxious.
Their table was covered in a multitude of different plates. You had one for each part of lunch known to man and maybe a little more. Plenty to go around and yet she seemed to only take so little from each one.
—It looks r-really good.
—Well, you can always have seconds if you want. —Stolas' voice sounded eerie, like he knew something—.
With hesitation in her movements, Octavia took a bite and then a couple of more. Leaving each serving sit in her beak for long periods of time –like a scapegoat for silence.
—And how's your day been, Via?
—Oh, you know… Stuff.
—Is that all? You seem a bit… different today.
—R-Really? How so?
—Well, for one you are wearing that outfit. It's a departure from your usual attire. Are you going somewhere today?
—Oh, this? —Octavia sounded defensive, getting flustered—. It's just something I picked up at random. Kinda got bored of wearing the same thing…
—Is that so? —Stolas raised an eyebrow—. Well, that's nothing to be anxious about, is it?
—O-Of course not! —Octavia blushed, desperate to change the subject—. H-How about your day?
—Like any other. Reading, writing, dealing with your mother.
—She called?
—As expected. To pretend she wasn't the one who sent that little cowboy after me.
—Wasn't that like… months ago?
—Like it matters to her.
The conversation halted from there, but Stolas had no intention of letting it die either. Since he had to act upon what he was about to relay.
—So, anyways. —Stolas questioned her—. How's your ankle?
—Dad! —Octavia yelled, annoyed—. What the fuck?!
There was no time for second guessing or doubt here. Octavia knew immediately what he was referring to. Usually, she would just play dumb or evade the question, but with such a direct claim she could only felt attacked.
—Language! Besides, I have to make sure he's trustworthy.
—Well, I trust him.
—Via, you just met him. Look at you! Dressing up for him?
—Oh, like your boyfriend? Getting really pretty for your dates?
—I told you this already. I met him when we were kids, long ago. He's not someone I just met and fell in love with. —Stolas argued—. And even then, he's too old for you anyways.
—Well, I don't care!
—Octavia, I do not allow it! He's too old for you and he's a hellhound.
—Oh, because an imp is any better! I hate you! —Octavia said trying to not break a tear in anger—. Hypocrite!
—Blitz is not just any imp. He's special…
Stolas was in clear distress. Even when he expected this sort of behaviour from her as she was a regular teenager –living the moment still threw him away. And once again his obsession with Blitz took out the worst of him.
Of course, Octavia was not having it. How dare him tell her how to feel, when he too was acting out of emotion about his life; regardless of how it affected her.
She pushed away her food and ran back to her room, stomping at each step to fully communicate her emotion –scaring Arturo in the process as she launched herself to him in a hug. Arturo's hands wondering if they should return it.
Then he looked back, Stolas was following her after all, trying to apologize, but still adamant on his position.
—Via, please! —Stolas stopped mid-sentence as he witnessed the embrace—.
Arturo's eyes were of fear. He expected to either lose his new job or his life, but either way he wasn't walking away from there.
Curiously enough, neither of those happened as Stolas realized Arturo was not hugging her back –understanding now that he had nothing to do with it. Somewhat feeling sorry for his position and almost comparing it to his own with Blitzo –how he would always run to him expecting to be cared for, while the imp only reciprocated as a duty of sorts.
—You can go home now, Arturo. —Stolas finally spoke, with a sense of self-defeat—.
Well, maybe one of those did happen.
—No! I want him to stay!
—Via, please my starfire…
Arturo's hands finally gave up as he saw her in distress, hugging her back, Octavia letting go a huge exhale of air as she felt his hands capture her.
—I have to go, Lady Via.
—No! That's not true!
—My owlet… —Stolas tried to reach for her shoulder—.
But she dodged him, now hiding behind the hellhound.
—If you fire him, I'll just hire him back! —Octavia challenged her dad—. To protect me from you!
It was no man's land at this rate, Arturo in the middle of it trying to make heads and tails of what to do next. He felt Octavia's pain as his own, it was no longer his job to protect her but his duty –and his duty called.
—Your Majesty. —Arturo jumped in—. Let me speak to her.
—I must refuse, little hellhound. But your services are no longer needed.
—I understand that Your Majesty. But I do not say this as your employee, but as hers.
Octavia burst with happiness immediately while Stolas did the complete opposite, after all (and unknow to Arturo at that time) all royalty can hire servants or any sort of service provider. They would then enjoy of full protection from this same employer. In other words, if Stolas was to do something to Arturo, he would break diplomacy law between Goetia which could cost him any chance of winning his divorce case with Stella –a case he already had no odds of winning.
—I trust you will do the right thing. —Stolas left—.
Arturo collapsed against the wall as soon as that door closed again, almost shaking. He had just confronted a demon prince and survived to tell the tale, not even knowing how he did it in the first place.
Worried, Via tried to bring him back.
—Arturo! Are you ok?!
—Y-yeah, I think so… —Arturo said breathing hard and slow—. And you?
—I'm better now.
The owl princess rested her head against his chest with a warm smile drawn in her face.
***
Once both recollected their ideas, they sat together on her bed to talk.
—Ok, so if you are going to be my bodyguard no more formalities. —Octavia scolded him—. You can only call me Via or Octavia, nothing more, got it?
—Understood.
—Then say it.
—Say what?
—My name! It's an order!
Arturo let go of a weak chuckle. He couldn't believe himself teasing her yet here he was. A fuzzy warm feeling rushing through his veins –now playing the "cold" persona he tried at the start once more. Like a two-sided roleplay designed for them by random chance.
—As you wish, Lady Via.
A short silence followed.
—I'm going to fire you.
—Please don't.
—Then say my name.
—Via. —Arturo smiled—.
Octavia's face turned red as a fresh tomato.
—G-G-Good! N-Now don't overuse it.
Both shared a smile for what it felt like an instant that lasted forever. As for the rest of the day, Octavia explained to Arturo why Stolas did not hurt him for what he did as well as other royal related norms and responsibilities he would need to follow or be aware of to stay clear of Stolas' wrath.
They shared contact information on their phones and even continued their conversation about books.
By the time night came to be, they knew enough about each other enough to climb the first step of friendship… Conversation diverging to tales of their lives.
—Thankfully, Loona found me. —Octavia's gaze went to the sky as she talked—. Dad's not evil. Like, I know he wants to protect me and stuff. So, when he- Never mind.
—I'm sure he just wants what's best for you.
—Sorry for putting you through this, Arturo.
—Don't worry about it, Via.
—But aren't you even a little bothered? You did nothing wrong, yet he wanted you out anyways. It's my fault.
—No, it is not. —Arturo comforted her—. It's no one's fault.
—Still, it's not fair! He spied on us and misunderstood everything!
—Wouldn't you have done the same in his place?
—Of course not!
—With a daughter as beautiful as you? I would.
—S-Shut up! I'll hold your pay for that.
—I guess I quit then. —Arturo stood up with no hesitation, but aware of his own lie—.
—I'm joking! —Octavia blushed—. Don't go…
—I would never.
—Good. This being said, you can go home now. I will see you tomorrow first time in the morning.
Octavia stood up, her outfit looking as good in the moonlight as it looked in the sunlight.
—Sleep well, princess.
—Arturo!
—Sleep well, Via. —Arturo laughed internally—.
—You too.
***
With the moon as his guardian, Arturo made his way back to his apartment. Instant messages from Octavia making his phone vibrate every couple of seconds, laughing as they teased each other with innocent conversations. Only realizing how late it was once he got home, delving into panic for a couple of hours of sleep before having to wake up again the next morning.
***
As expected, he would oversleep that morning, only to be woken up by the aggressive use of the doorbell.
—Fuck… —Arturo rolled over his bed as he began to notice the constant ringing—. I'm coming! Shit…
A sleepy and almost naked Arturo opened the door to a shy princess who quickly covered her face as she noticed he was only wearing his underwear –the hellhound closing the door as fast as he could, running to grab something to put on.
Yet the owl girl was still curious; and opened the door just as she noticed he hadn't lock it again –walking inside in silence while Arturo struggled to suit up.
She looked around, poked around. Saw his improvised kitchen, living room, and more. A game console plugged to a nice TV, set up in a crappy table in front of an even worse sofa. She was surprised of how everything mashed together without a single wall to divide areas besides the bathroom.
Finally, her eyes locked in on a framed picture next to said television, a photograph of Arturo and Amelia together, holding hands, smiling. Octavia couldn't help herself and grabbed it, looking at it with worry. "Maybe he does have a girlfriend after all" She assumed.
Meanwhile, the poor hellhound had to ask.
—Princess- uh, Octavia. What are you doing here?
—Well, you were late, so I was worried. —Octavia answered, still looking at the picture—. Who is she by the by?
—Uh… She's Amelia. —Arturo seemed trouble—. She is… She was my girlfriend.
Octavia's face turned to once of relief as her assumptions were wrong and Arturo was not in a relationship anymore.
—Why would you keep it, then?
—We just recently broke up. —Arturo scratched behind his head thinking of how to explain things—. Two days ago. So, I haven't had time to put it away.
—But you have time to be late.
—I swear, it will not happen again.
—Well, it better not! —Octavia looked angry but was really blushing again—.
Because of the commotion earlier, Arturo did not notice until now that she was in fact wearing similar clothing to the day prior. But this time in greater detail that truly improved her innocent-like appearance. A little extra makeup, a different more feminine arrangement of her head feathers –you get the idea.
She had obviously done it to impress him, and Arturo figured as much as well, starting to get used to his effects on the ladies. He deduced the effects either lasted post-meeting or worsen based upon exposure.
If the first was right, all other women he met would probably still be into him, which was worrying. And if the second one was the correct deduction, all he had to do was to avoid staying around people. Regardless of which was it; for now, he had to worry about affecting her.
Now, he couldn't just avoid her given the circumstances, but he could keep his emotional distance in check and hope for the best. If he was lucky there was probably a way to cure her… Then he remembered how much they interacted the day before and realized he was probably screwed anyways.
—Should we go now? —Octavia continued, her voice turning shy and mute—.
—Ready to serve.
Octavia conjured a portal. A little something she learned after her misshapen in the human realm.
Both walked through it, but Arturo couldn't help to wonder if she could do that the other way around. After all, it sounded like a bad idea and a violation of his privacy.
—I won't use them if you don't want me to. —Octavia assured him—.
—I'm more into why you didn't open one last night.
—Humm… ups… —Octavia smiled in embarrassment—.
At the other end of the portal, both arrived at a mall. A huge building in Greed with all sorts of establishments. There were stores selling clothing, music, books, food and even a movie theatre. Given Arturo's indulgency on entertainment media, he felt like he had been set up for one of those generic dates he would see in anime or movies.
"No movies, no sharing food, no trying out clothes." Arturo said to himself as he looked around in disbelief. "If she shows me something, show only the necessary interest."
—Well? What are you waiting for?
Arturo turned to where Octavia's voice was coming from. She was walking towards a store, turning around to him, her skirt flying, her hands behind her and leaning a little forward. Finishing with a piercing look and a cute smile.
"Fuck…"
Arturo could not make out her personality, she was either shy, teasing or some weird persona he couldn't really describe, yet each phase complemented the other somehow. He was worried he would not survive this day as planned.
—On my way… Via.
Octavia smiled. He was calling her by her nickname more naturally now.
Their first stop was a convenience store.
—Well… Since you just woke up you should eat something first. —Octavia made a pause as her stomach rumbled—.
"And you didn't either expecting us to have breakfast together, don't you?" Arturo narrowed his eyes looking at her. "Then again I had nothing to eat at home either…"
—Sounds good to me. —Arturo joined her, acting unbothered—.
Each picked something, a bottle of water, some green tea, pre-cooked meals you could heat up with a microwave. Not much was said during this process.
—That'll be 136 souls. —Said the clerk, a regular sinner with a tired face and a defeated attitude—.
Arturo took out his wallet, but realized he didn't have enough. "Fuck me…"
But Octavia was ready for this too, as she approached him the hellhound closed his wallet; startled by her.
—Oh, by the way. I'll pay for this. —She said as she laid some other items at the counter—. And these, too.
The items in question were two small packets with mice meat. Arturo looked at them in disgust.
—Why rat meat?
Octavia looked at him shocked in surprise, after all hellhounds ate meat too.
—Uh?! These are mice! And they are great! It's the perfect after-breakfast snack too!
—I'm going to guess that's just owl stuff… —Arturo replied still troubled—. Well, doesn't matter.
—Yup! Don't worry! More for me anyways.
Octavia then pointed to a white cookie box on a top shelf behind the counter.
—Oh! And those too, please!
Arturo's disgust turned to pure shock. It was one of those ultra generic brands that not even Mammon produced that tasted like either dirt or ash. "What?! I've never seen anyone buy that on their own accord!"
—Those are 250 souls
"That expensive?!" Arturo's face of despair now looking at the clerk as if he was now just trying to scam them.
And it didn't end there either, as the cookies were placed on a paper bag of its own with a terrible design printed on it that didn't even show the store's brand or logo. "And what is that fucking bag?! I've shopped here and never seen it before!"
Before he could realize they were walking out of the store with everything paid for. Now the only thing in his mind was to have breakfast; there was no way to start a day this insane so rapidly.
—Art, wait! —Octavia reached for Arturo's shoulder—.
Arturo stopped in place, looking at her hand in surprise. Not to mention the sudden nickname surprised him as well.
—Your collar was showing the tie. —Octavia smiled as Arturo just stared—. We should get you a new suit too…
The shaken hellhound looked at his clothing, wondering what was wrong, as it wasn't dirty or torn, just poorly worn perhaps.
—By the way, I was amazed you confronted my dad yesterday, still am.
—Well, my last duty was to protect you, and you seemed in danger.
—You could've died, or worse.
—I just felt it was the right thing to do.
—Good. —Octavia chuckled—. Cuz' otherwise I would have hunt you down instead.
—Wow, ok.
—I'm messing with you! Of course I wouldn't. Anyways, the reason he didn't like you was-
—Was?
—Doesn't matter. Let's eat!
—Oh- wait!
Octavia took Arturo's hand and showed him to the dining floor, an area near the food court with tons of tables to pick from. Both sitting down at the center; equally away from everyone else.
Thankfully eating went down as normal, since both had chosen similar food there was no way for Via to play the sharing card; she did think about it though.
—Wow! That was great… —Arturo gasped—.
—You are easily pleased, aren't you?
—Well, you said that because you eat expensive food all the time. We, the poor folk love simplicity.
Octavia looked embarrassed after his reply.
— "Shit." —Mumbled Arturo in regret—. What I mean is-
—It's ok… I know the trope.
—T-Thank you for the food, though.
—Uhm…
"Great job, Arturo." He guilts tripped himself.
—We should look for your new suit now.
Arturo nodded as he gathered the trash in one of the bags –throwing it into a bin on their way to the next store.
Of all the moments of silence they have had until now, this was the worst. Walking to the suit tailor, even looking at each other as Arturo was being measured out by an employee; he looked desperately for a way to break the ice again.
Thankfully the moment would arrive on its own eventually.
—I'm sorry for earlier… —Octavia said with a sad tone—.
—I'm sorry too, I should've been more thankful.
—Yes, you should have.
After the measuring and tailoring was done, both sat down together again –to wait for the suit to be done.
—I just don't like this hierarchy stuff between us… —Octavia continued—. We're not different, we're not special. We just are.
—I think you are special.
—Oh, shut it! —Octavia blushed—.
—And you are different. In a good way.
—You know what? I changed my mind! —Octavia continued blushing profoundly—. Know your place!
—Of course, my lady.
—But still call me Via!
—Please make up your mind, Via.
—I hate you.
—Do you really?
—No…
Their eyes met in a short but romantic moment, involuntarily getting closer to each other as Octavia's hands played with his tie but both pushing back as soon as the moment got too obvious. Staying still for the remainder of the wait.
A more comfortable silence reigned as Arturo was given the new outfit to try out. It was a regular black suit, with tie, white shirt, black pants, etc. –Nothing out of the ordinary but still made him look so much better than before.
The difference between a suit that fits you and one that is made for you was clear and even Arturo was in shock of how well it looked on him. If the suit makes the man, he was now made to protect her.
—Now we go to our final stop. —Octavia stated—.
This next store Arturo had never seen, Stylish Occult. It was a multi-purpose girl store of sorts, having things like clothing, gifts, decorations and a bunch of other things. It all screamed "Goth", go figure why with a name like that.
Octavia was immediately drawn inside, trying to show him as many things as she could, the weird taxidermy, alternative music CDs with a bunch of weird names, even some collectable figurines that she apparently already had the full collection for, except for some "exclusive" ones apparently no one was selling.
Meanwhile, Arturo was going with the current. Work didn't even feel like work –just listening to whatever she recommended him or looking at whatever she showed him. He had even forgotten about his curse for a while, nothing was bothering him anymore.
By the time the shopping spree had ended, it was already lunch and compared to breakfast, both seemed readily excited for it. If you squinted your eyes, you could also realize that with each passing moment, they were walking closer and closer to each other than before.
Arturo even broke his own rules from the start when he let Via choose their food, a must-be-shared order of sushi rolls and bento box. If they weren't any wiser, one could say this was, from the very start, just a convoluted romantic date.
—Is everything ok, Via?
Arturo looked puzzled when he noticed she hadn't eaten a thing.
—I-I don't know how to use chopsticks…
—Oh, it's simple. Look. —Arturo smiled to her as he explained—. You place your hand like this, and the finger goes here so you can open and close them like so.
Well, as romantic it can get, I suppose –when Arturo took a piece and ate it himself instead of feeding Octavia as she probably intended. Mouth open and all.
Sometimes you can't cook the cake and eat it too, you know?
***