“The world thinks that demons like us are as irresponsible and power monger without shame and pride. But boy, they misunderstood."

"Compared to humans and other power races, I believe we demons are the most responsible among all races. We desired power not only for ourselves but for the stability of our own people—that is only the basic duty of a demon ruler.”

“Among creatures in the surface of this world, we are true to our own desires… that we wear it on our bodies and expose it to other people. Our kind might be those dyed with betrayals and lies but we abhor them greater than among others…”

The Demon Empress smiled faintly as she stared at Cian, a gentle smile plastered on her face; “The world is starting to change, my son—whether it was in the human world, the monster world, or even here in the Demon World—with your awakening, surely, I anticipate the change you will bring to all worlds.” Her voice held a gentleness Cian had not heard of it before. Mixed in was the obvious anticipation and excitement that was hard to conceal…

What did she expect him to do… Cian wonder…?

“You make me sound better than my brother or my sister—the waste prince,” Cian said with a wry smile, staring straight ahead.

“No, not really. I’m simply trying to get you motivated after snapping out of your inferiority complex. In which I was waiting for, for so many years. Since they will surely stand in your way, from here on out, you must make clear to them that it’s you, who is in command.”

“Is it really that fine, obviously showing favoritism into only one of us…? Aren’t we all your children?”

“Indeed, all of you are… but sadly, only one of you will rise and stand in the summit. Those who are not chosen will always fall and be turned into a stepping stone of those who will succeed. In that case, I guess I’m just putting my bet on my treasured son…I hope you wouldn’t disappoint me…” The demon Empress grinned, without any hint of pretend or falsity.

Cian smiled wryly as he shook his head ruefully. “Then you bet wrong… in this empire, either Oriel or Lucifalion would be the best horse for the race. The entire citizen of the Empire agrees on that matter. Even Situel would be better compared to the Waste prince—there’ll be no question on that. I simply won’t stand a chance.”

“Oh, don’t be such a defeatist, my dear.” She sounded irritable. “I know you better than anyone—how sharp the fangs you are hiding within that harmless appearance. I only fear that those who dared underestimate you would never know how they perished…”

“Ha ha ha ha, only you can say that so confidently… mother,” Cian laughed.

“Of course, after all, I am your mother…”

““Ha ha ha ha,””

Their laughter echoed in the entire hall, leaving the guests appalled. They didn’t know what they are talking, they dared not be interested—but, at this moment, a bit of Aanuel’s terrifying reputation suddenly changed unintentionally.

Is the Second Prince… really that horrible compared to rumors…?

Those who hadn’t personally clarified such rumors started to have doubts.

This is surely the start of Cian’s legend into this world…!!

*** ***

Cian leaned against the balcony, looking up to the indigo sky.

The Demon Empress went somewhere, Cian didn’t want to bother, after all—all they talk was nothing but politics with a mixed up cocktail of bootlicking and flatter that can make one vomit in disgust and nausea.

“The sky so quiet and beautiful… if ever the world can also be as well, don’t you think so?” He muttered with a melancholic smile.

He then turned to his left and saw the woman from before, with her green hair tied by a garland of pink rose-buds, hung to her shoulders in metallic fuzz. She had on a never-simple blue-green dress that was close-fitting, draped over with green vines and leaves, giving an exotic kind of style.

“Caught you off guard, did I?” Sybilla said, a faint smile hanging on her soft thin lips.

"Well, you do have a habit of popping out of nowhere, my lady," Cian stated with a wry smile.

"Perhaps. Or maybe you just weren't paying attention," she replied coolly.

"Well, maybe that too."

"It doesn't matter, let's go over here," she suggested, walking to a more open space lying just beyond some trees and plants—the royal garden, or so they call it. "Somewhere with a little more privacy." She ended.

"Sure, why not?" replied the young prince. A faint smile hung on his visage. "I've been bored silly here anyway."

*** ***

"Wouldn't you like to dance, my lady?" The woman in the green dress gave him a mildly surprised look as he extended his hand towards her.

The moment they entered the beautiful and well-maintained garden, Cian suddenly asked while bowing courtly like a gentleman in some medieval movies.

"…No thank you. I've never been one for dances." She responded, albeit with a faint smile which was quite an advancement from her earlier attitude towards him.

"That so, that’s a pity. Though, why'd you come to a party then?" asked Cian, taking his hand back.

"Perhaps I just wanted to check on a certain someone to make sure he wasn't what others think and says—that particular someone would have a heart not made of stone and ice? A heart that would know what love is, what lover define as..."

The young man with an ashy colored hair averted his gaze.

“After trying things to no avail just to avoid being one of the heroine in tragic love stories, and tragically finding out that in the end, a mere powerless girl would never be able to win against fate—that no fairies and heroes will try to save me from my tragic future—I decided to accept fate--“ She muttered with a mournful tone.

“Still, in the end, I was hoping that probably… a certain someone would actually be different from what they say, falling in love with me after seeing my appearance, treasure me, and in the end, protect me from everything that scares me—” She smirked.

“… After all, I’m quite confident in my looks…”

“… Life ain't a fairytale, my lady~” Cian chuckled, amused. “So, did a certain someone passed the test…?”

“Don’t judge the tree by its bark… the second prince is indeed quite different from what other says. And I admit, I am bit pleasantly surprised by it—'There's still hope, I thought’ so I tried testing you a while ago…” Then, she suddenly bowed at him. Her voice turning apologetic, “I’m sorry, your highness. In behalf of our future intimate relationship, please be magnanimous and overlook my rudeness a while ago…!”

“… …” Shock…? Was that enough to describe what he was feeling right now? Amusement? Pr probably, interest?

Staring at Sibylla who was still bowing her head, without any hint of withdrawing caused Cian to almost burst into laughter. Interesting…

“Is that your own sincerity? Or sincerity drove by fear…?”

*tremble Cian’s keen eyes had seen it. Sibylla’s shoulder trembled the moment she had heard Cian’s question.

“… …”

“... Truthfully, I never accounted your words. Your misconception, your misunderstanding, your opinion, all of them is not a matter of my concern. Thus, asking for forgiveness isn’t really that necessary…I believe,” Cian shrugged his shoulders, wearing a wry smile. “The reputation I had, is one I had made… all me to blame. You can even say I only reap what I sow, so you having such doubts would surely be normal.”

“… …”

“Raise your head… I know for certain that in your eyes, I am still the person you believe I was. You acting like this will only hurt my heart so much, I might cry—I just hope that in the future, you will see me for who I am, not clouded by words of others, or rumors from strangers…” Cian smiled as he stared at the complicated expression Sibylla was making.

Sibylla stared aghast, as she watched Cian's hands curl into a determined fists as he pushed his words through iron-clenched teeth all while, wearing a faint helpless yet pained smile; “Slander, whose edge is much sharper than any weapon, whose tongue outvenoms all the venomous monsters one could ever imagine, whose breath rides on the posting winds and doth belie all corners of the world—nasty, baseless accusations.”

Cian flashed a bitter smile, “I desire none of it and neither should you, my very dear…”

“… …”

“See me for who I am, understand me for who I become, that’s my only wish. I only desire a person who can really see me for my worth, and I hope it is you, Sibylla."

"Don’t ever forget our doubts are traitors and make us lose the good we oft might win, by fearing to attempt.” Cian smiled ever so gently, one that Sibylla had never seen before.

It was so gentle, her heart almost started beating fast and yet, a pang of pain struck her seeing that hurt and bitter expression he was wearing.

She opened her mouth, wanting to say… but like fish out of the water, she could only flap it open and then closed and then open, lost for words, not knowing what to do or say.

Is the Second Prince truly different from what I had thought…?

Was am I, the one in the wrong here...?

Cian turned around, started walking without waiting for a response—enjoying the beautiful night sky as well as the fragrant scent of the flowers and plants, the spectacular scenery of small balls of light fluttering like fireflies.

“As my dearest intimate person, my future partner,” He muttered, solemn, melancholic, as if talking to himself, not to another person like Sibylla who was quietly following behind him, “… I sincerely hope you will not be swayed by vicious rumors. Rumor is nothing but a pipe blown by surmises, jealousies, conjectures—a foolish notion promoted by foolish, malicious men,”

“… I sincerely hope that you are different…”

This kind of feeling struck her—stepping into Cian’s footsteps, breathing the same musty air that filled his lungs.

What does he mean by that?

What is he feeling?

The person before her was walking quietly and somehow seemed to have a desolate aura …… Desolate?

Sibylla simply doubted her own eyes. Can this word be used for the infamous Second Prince who has always been full of confidence, calm and collected?

How is that possible…?

A strange silence loomed on the garden as two young people slowly and quietly walk along the brick aisle—affectionate, peaceful, solemn—it was an unbelievably quiet atmosphere that seemed so wonderful and full of strange harmony.

The mood between them even reached the point that Sibylla who was looking at Cian’s back with complicated emotions, felt an unconscious fear that if she dared to breathe, it would break—this odd yet comforting atmosphere they had, alone.

Does the world truly made a huge misunderstanding of his own actions…?

Or was it intentional in his part—throwing dirt and shame in his reputation—what kind of goal does he have?