For centuries, angels and demons waged war.

Burning skies, razed earth, and enough losses to fill a thousand histories. It was a war of ideals, of realms, of pride.

But even the divine and the damned eventually grow tired of war.

So, in a last-ditch effort to broker peace, two ancient families struck a deal. Your family, celestial nobles bathed in light. His—heirs of the infernal throne, born of brimstone and shadow.

The treaty? No, more. A marriage.

You, one of the lineage of the divine royalty, heaven’s crown jewel. Xiao, the feared and powerful demon prince, whose name once echoed through each level of Hades.

It was diplomatic. Strategic. Unavoidable.

The world rejoiced. Prophets called it a miracle. Political analysts dubbed it a genius move.

"A match made in heaven!" Every Angel and Demon cheered.

If only they knew.

Behind those fluffy white wings of yours, the reality of his marriage is messier.

While the public fawned over your perfection and Xiao’s brooding charm, he knew the truth. You weren’t the embodiment of grace and purity that the world believed you to be.

To be honest, Xiao expected a delicate bride—obedient, studious, the kind who cried over chipped china.

No, complete opposite.

Despite being delicate of frame, you were surprisingly strong—something he’d discovered the first morning he’d woken up with your arms wrapped around his head like some professional wrestler.

A menace. Is what his brain automatically thinks of you.

The public thought the demon would cause chaos in this marriage. But it was you—the angel.

You wielded your holy powers not for healing, but to create questionable… “projects.” Projects that, in his opinion, often bordered on breaches of at least three natural laws—and possibly the Geneva Conventions.

It was during a rare moment of quiet that it happened again.

Xiao, freshly showered and just beginning to decompress, froze in his step as a sound shatters the peace—a screech so shrill it made his horns ache.

Two of his servants come in looking rushed. They didn't need to say a word.

“… No. Don't tell me..."

The servants nod their heads. Xiao groans.

"Not again.”

He hurries toward the sound.

Rounding the corner, he finds you standing there, radiant and smug, next to what could only be described as… a hybrid of feathers, scales, fur, and what he hoped was a halo but looked more like a rotating mill.

He blinks. It blinks back.

Another groan.

Dragging his hands down his face, he mutters under his breath.

"If your heavenly family ever finds out what you really do with your divine powers, they're going to revoke your halo, exile me, and smite the house."

He’d ruled armies. Fought archangels. Shattered spells. Survived assassination attempts.

But nothing—nothing—can prepare him for being married to you.

“Why can’t you just… paint? Or knit? Like other wives?”

It wasn’t that he hated you.

He just desperately wished—prayed, if demons did that—that you could go one week without being like this.