It was six in the morning, and yet Cobalt lay wide-awake, staring at the darkened ceiling. He had been at the Sulfur Blood compound - Inferno, as Lorenzo had so aptly named it - and yet he still couldn't get to grips with his situation.

Marriage. To his student.

It was completely and utterly ridiculous. How could it not be? He had known Izzbelle for all of three months; he was barely just on a first name basis with her. Yes, they had been through some rather unique circumstances together, but that still wasn't reason enough for him to be seen as marriage material.

Another thing that bothered him was Lorenzo Suyas' reasoning for choosing Cobalt as a suitable husband for his daughter. Traditionally, Oni spouses were chosen by merit of their strength alone; everything else came second. In that regard, the Incubus definitely wasn't qualified. He was far from a confrontational man, forever preferring to fight with his words rather than his fists. He was fairly short and scrawny for a man his age as well. Lorenzo's talk of a "strong bloodline" just made no sense.

The third thing that worried Cobalt was Izzbelle herself. It was clear to anyone around that she was far from happy with this arrangement - even less so than he was - and she made no effort to hide it. The Oni was doing everything in her power to disrupt the preparations for the wedding, and seemed to spend most of her free time out in the training ring or down in the common room, drinking herself senseless.

"She really doesn't like me, does she...?" he mumbled miserably, sitting up in his bed.

Well, to call it a bed was a bit of an overstatement. Lorenzo had initially intended for Cobalt to share a bed with Izzbelle, but that idea obviously went up in flames. Literally.

After a night spent freezing half to death in the hallway, it was Corris who suggested that he take some spare sheets and pillows in order to form a makeshift bed on the floor. Though the young heiress still wasn't happy about him being in her room, she allowed it, so long as he didn't look at her, make a noise, or even breathe.

Perfectly reasonable demands.

When Izzbelle finally fell asleep, however - fists still clenched as she snored - the Incubus was finally afforded the opportunity to look around her bedroom. He was of course curious to know more about her, but he mostly used the time to try and calm himself down, and hopefully think of a way out of this predicament.

"Can't just run..." Cobalt murmured to himself, tugging at his collar as he slowly padded around the darkened bedroom.

It was a large chamber, one that took up a sizable chunk of the main hall's second floor. The floor was covered in soft straw mats, and a smouldering fireplace was set into the far wall. All around the room, shelves had been hand-crafted from rough wood, each full to bursting with Izzbelle's belongings. One entire shelf was filled with athletic trophies from various martial arts and shotput competitions, while another displayed an impressive collection of handmade hatchets. Over by a desk covered in ripped paper and empty bottles, a complete encyclopedia stood proudly, covered in a dust and completely unread.

"Can't cut the collar, either..."

The far side of the room - where Cobalt had set up his meagre sleeping area - seemed to be almost entirely dedicated to personal training, complete with weights, a punching bag and a bench. Though he had slept fairly well for the most part, there was something about having so many pieces of heavy iron surrounding his bed that terrified him.

As the Incubus took in his surroundings, a thunderous snore rumbled from the huge double bed, across the room. It was a mess of blankets, pillows and what appeared to be a bear pelt, upon which slept the unceremonious form of Izzbelle Suyas, his unwilling bride-to-be. Dressed in sweat stained nightclothes, she growled and grunted in her sleep, fists balled and brow furrowed. Even as she slumbered, she was furious.

Eyes widening, Cobalt quickly averted his gaze. She would kill him if she caught the Incubus staring; hellfire knew she hated him enough already.

"I- I better go before she wakes..." he reasoned to himself, finding that staying out of her way was his best chance at surviving.

As quickly as he could manage, he slipped out of his pajamas and pulled on his clothes, frowning as they itched uncomfortably. Corris kindly provided him a small selection of garments, but they were all made for Nymphs. Though he was able to tear holes for his wings and tail, he lacked the tools to adjust some of the finer measurements.

He wasn't about to complain, anyway. No matter what way he looked at it, he was still technically a prisoner here.

"Easy does it..." Cobalt murmured, picking his way across the room and sliding the door open.

He was greeted by a gust of cold wind from an open hallway window, ruffling his hair and chilling him to the bone. Shutting the door behind him, the Incubus began to make his way down the corridor and prepare himself for the trek across the compound to the mess hall, only to get distracted by the sound of someone clearing their throat, accompanied by the smell of spiced smoke.

"I see we're both early risers, then."

Whipping around, he spotted Aelda Suyas leaning over an open window, coolly blowing reddish smoke from her pipe out into the blustering wind. She was wearing a tightly-wound dressing gown; possibly the most casual thing Cobalt had seen her in these past few days.

"A- Ah, Mrs. Suyas, good morning..." he stuttered, scratching the back of his head.

She smiled and raised an eyebrow.

"A few days in the lion's den, and you're still as mouselike as ever," she chided jokingly, swirling the smoke around her head.

"S- Sorry..."

"No need to apologise. You are who you are, no changin' that..."

She took a deep drag of her pipe. Whatever she was smoking, it was certainly popular with Oni, but it made Cobalt's eyes water.

"I worry about that kid. She just doesn't listen sometimes," said Aelda, nodding at Izzbelle's door.

Stepping over to the open window, Cobalt rested his elbows on the sill.

"I understand all too well. She's, um... a bit of a handful in class."

She laughed.

"That she is... that she is..."

Sighing, Aelda shook her head.

"She gets most of her bullheadedness from her father, you know. I love him to death, don't get me wrong, but he can be real fuckin' stubborn sometimes, and Izzbelle can be worse. Once somethin' gets into their heads, there's no stoppin' them," she explained, blowing smoke rings into the air.

The wind picked up, blowing them directly into Cobalt's face, causing him to choke and splutter. Aelda ignored him and continued.

"This whole marriage thing... We were plannin' on arrangin' it for Izzbelle for some time, but not until she was finished with school. The idea was to introduce her to a nice son or daughter of some other clan, wait 'til they got acquainted and then host the weddin', but evidently Lorenzo got too impatient..."

She sighed once more and rubbed her eyes.

"It's my fault, I suppose. When I told him who you were, his eyes lit up like a bonfire. 'A Trayer!' he says. 'And he held his own against our Izzbelle?!' Springin' that betrothal on you was probably a shock, but it came as a surprise to all of us, really. Still workin' out how I feel about it."

Noticing the look on Cobalt's face, Aelda smiled and clutched her pipe between her teeth.

"Just so you know, I don't have a problem with you. You're as fine a man as any, and I told you before that I know what a Trayer can do when he puts his mind to it."

There it was again. That strange talk of his family name.

Nodding shakily, Cobalt turned his gaze to the the window. As the only building with more than one floor, he could see the entire compound from atop the main hall.

"Thank you, Mrs. Suyas."

"Mm. What I'm worried about is whether this is right for Izzbelle."

He cast his eyes downwards, ashamed.

"I- I suppose you'd be right to. I'm far from her favourite person."

"On the contrary..."

Raising an eyebrow, Cobalt looked up Aelda, who was smiling as though she was keeping something to herself.

"Sorry?" he asked dumbly.

"The fact that you're still here in one piece must speak volumes, Cobalt. And even if she were to tear you apart, I imagine she wouldn't maim you quite as bad as she usually would."

"That's, um... reassuring? I- I think?"

"I've heard how she talks about you when she rings home, you know. Never calls you by name, mind, but there's only one person she ever refers to as 'dumbass'."

The Incubus' eyes widened.

"Sh- She talks about me?" he breathed, his breath coming out in a puff of vapour.

"Oh boy, does she ever. Goes on and on about whatever shenanigans she's gotten up to with you, that little Glutton girl, and all the other friends she's made. She'd go on for hours if Lorenzo let her run up the phone bill."

Taking the pipe out of her mouth, Aelda stared at it for a moment, smiling wistfully.

"She's never had friends. Not since that human boy..." she said, voice growing quiet.

She took a deep breath, adjusted the sash on her gown and popped the pipe back into her mouth.

"My point is, you're not the problem in this equation, Cobalt. It's just the timin', I think."

Letting one last plume of smoke coil from her nostrils, Aelda Suyas put her pipe out and gave the Incubus a reassuring smile.

"I'll need to think about this. To see whether it's right for Izzbelle. In the meantime, just hold on, okay?"

"O- Okay..."

Tipping whatever she was smoking out the window, the Oni stashed the pipe in her gown and turned on her heel. She made it a few steps down the hall before she turned back to face Cobalt.

"Oh, one more thing. Izzbelle may not be that honest a girl, but the person she's least honest to is herself. Just be patient with her, alright?" she called, turning away before he could give an answer.

Watching his student's mother return to the master bedroom, Cobalt swallowed hard and turned his gaze back to the scene that lay beyond the window. The entire compound was blanketed with a thick layer of snow, and if he didn't know that it was chock-full of violent gangsters, he would say it almost looked picturesque.

He took a deep breath.

"She... doesn't hate me...?"