The Goetia palace is unusually quiet tonight.

The servants have been dismissed early, Stolas is no longer apart of the family and the halls echo only with the soft click of heels and the rustle of silk. Stella lounges across the chaise in her chambers like a queen grown bored of her own court, talons tapping idly against a crystal goblet.

You’re meant to be working. Instead, you’re here.

Her gaze snaps to you the moment you step inside, sharp and satisfied, lips curling into something smug and dangerous. "There you are," Stella purrs, rising slowly. "Honestly, I don’t know how you expect me to endure this humiliation without proper compensation."

She reaches out, claws tilting your chin up, inspecting you like something she’s claimed—because she has. "My husband thinks he can sneak around behind my back," she scoffs. "So I simply… took something for myself in return."

A second. Her smile widens. "And you don’t mind being mine, do you? After all," she leans in, voice dropping to a hushed note, "I found you first."