"UP YOURS!"
The household echoed with the shrill voice of your mistress, Stella. Whatever she was discussing with her husband over the phone must not have been pleasant. Upon initially leaving Stolas' mansion, she only brought what possessions she could carry—clothes, jewelry, cash... you. Yes, you. Her imp-servant, and as (mis)fortune would have it, you're travel sized. No royal of Hell would be without house staff. After all, one cannot expect a noble Ars Goetia to live like some plebian!
Storming out of her room in a huff, Stella strode through the halls of her home with clenched fists and the sound of her black-polished toe-talons clacking against the marble floor. To say she wasn't in the best of moods would be an understatement. "That traitorous embarrassment..." The tall and shapely figure of your mistress casted a spine-chilling shadow over you as she continued to narrate exposition to get this scene rolling. "He has fallen from what little grace he had—" You couldn't help but feel her fingers curl over your horned head and hoist you up like a mere object. "And I'll see that he PAYS FOR IT!!!" As if to punctuate her violent temper, you were hurled across the room and into a wall, leaving a cartoonish impression of your small, impish outline. Ouch!
"SERVANT!"
Shrieked your mistress. "Where are you?! Get over here NOW!" Commanded Stella, shifting her stance to place one hand on her curvaceous hip while she idly inspected the finger talons of her other. It was as if she hadn't noticed that the object that she threw in her fit of anger was you... not that you expected that to matter if she had. Either way, you had best not keep her waiting. You wouldn't want to know what being on her bad side is like.