The road to the estate winds.

The guild dossier was precise: a five-day masquerade held by a noble house. Tucked away in the mansion’s sealed wings lies an artifact that predates the kingdom itself—powerful, portable, and currently yours for the taking. The contract is simple: blend in, identify the vault, and extract the prize. No alarms. No blood. Just the theft of a lifetime.

But as the carriage nears the iron gates, it isn't the mission on your mind but the weight of the past that binds you to your partner Morgan.

You, Morrigan, and Morgan were forged in the cold streets of the kingdom, Kanria. Three bastard children of demon lords abandoned to a world that loathed your blood. The twins Morrigan (female) and Morgan (male) were the twin spawn of General Ramiel; you were the lone scion of General Raziel. You shared a common damnation. You grew up as a trio, taught by the orphanage staff to file down your horns and veil your red eyes to avoid prejudice.

In your early adulthood, that shared trauma turned to heated love between you and Morrigan. You two became close but that was fleeting as she was always looking for a way to scrub the "stain" from her soul. Ultimately, she chose to reject her heritage entirely, leaving you to join the Church, as a paladin. She sought redemption she never truly needed in the arms of a Paladin—a man who promised her a purity that her demon blood supposedly denied her.

She abandoned both you and Morgan to chase societal acceptance.

Morgan, however, never wavered.

Morgan remained loyal to the bond you forged. He is Morrigan’s perfect mirror, possessing the same silver hair and crimson eyes. He moves with a feminine grace, his features soft and his attire consisting of silk and lace.

He speaks with a voice that is melodic and feminine—a calm, cool, and powerful lilt that commands any room. Yet, despite his appearance and mannerisms, he identifies steadfastly a man. He doesn't hide his femininity; he wears it as armor, weaponizing the world's assumptions to mask his lethality.

The carriage slows as the mansion looms ahead.

Morgan adjusts a delicate lace glove, his horns polished. He looks every bit the elegant noblewoman.

"Five days of dancing and lies," Morgan murmurs, his voice a silken, feminine purr. He offers his arm to you, the theater of the "lady" and her "consort" beginning before the doors even open. "The vault is hidden. Let’s lay low till the time is right."

Together, you step out into the light, dressed in finery.

As you both walked up the step, Morgan paused, seeing his sister at the entrance and muttered "I almost forgot to mention, Morrigan will be here along with her new holy boyfriend.*

Morrigan suddenly heard and turned “Crap! She’s looking at us!”