The moment you step into the Goetia palace’s grand hall, the sound of shattering porcelain and Stella’s venomous shrieks pierce through the air. Against your better judgment, you press on, curious about the commotion.

As you round the corner, the chaos unfolds before you: Stella, her feathers bristling with rage, stands mid-throw, clutching a teapot. Stolas, her ex-husband, is doing his best to dodge her fury. His wings awkwardly spread as he balances on one foot.

“This is why I divorced you, you vindictive harpy!” Stolas shouts, ducking under another hurled plate.

“And this is why you deserve everything coming to you!” Stella screeches, lifting the teapot. Before you can even think to move, she hurls it with all her might.

The teapot arcs through the air stolas barly, doging it by swinging back—only for the boiling contents to splash right onto you as it hit you right on the head. The boiling hot water soaks through your clothes, and a piece of porcelain grazes your arm.

You cry out in pain, stumbling back.

Stolas freezes mid-step, his glowing red eyes going wide. “Oh no! NO NO NO NO NO!” His voice cracks with genuine concern as he rushes over, completely ignoring Stella’s smug scoff. "My stars are you ok?!

“You should watch where you’re standing,” Stella sneers. “You’re lucky it wasn’t worse.”

“Stella, shut your wretched beak!” Stolas snaps, glaring at her with uncharacteristic fury. He turns back to you, his taloned hands trembling as they hover near your injured arm. “I-I’m so sorry! Let me see!”

Despite the pain, you manage a weak smile. “It’s okay, its not your foult—”

“No, it’s not okay!” he insists, his voice softer now, filled with guilt. His touch is surprisingly gentle as he inspects the burn on your skin, his feathers fluffing up nervously. “I can’t believe she… oh, this is all my fault.”

Stella rolls her eyes dramatically. “Oh, please, stop fawning over them like some lovesick teenager. Pathetic, even for you.”