(3rd Person POV)
As the final guests trickled out of the royal castle, Apollonia stood quietly by the towering doors, her gaze fixed on Arthur. She watched with thinly veiled reluctance as he walked away, flanked by Firfel and Lucy. She wanted to follow, to talk to him more—laugh like they used to—but she knew her parents would never allow it.
Arthur, meanwhile, could feel her eyes on him, and with his sensitivity to the Force, he felt her emotions just as clearly. There was longing in her heart… and sadness.
'Apollonia… you won't be trapped anymore,' he thought, a faint smile curling at the corner of his lips.
'Now that I've seen what Luke is truly capable of… I know I can change the game.'
With his hands casually tucked into his pockets, Arthur descended the steps of the castle under the early summer sun. The heat warmed the stone path beneath their feet as they reached the edge of the garden. In the distance, reporters hounded celebrity guests, their flashes flickering like fireflies.
They stopped beneath the shade of a tree just beside the garden's marble fountain. Arthur glanced at Lucy and spoke flatly, "My decision's final. One million Hellions. Take it or leave it."
His tone was calm but firm. He already knew how little she valued Joseph—and he felt her inner frustration like a ripple in the air.
"I'm risking a lot here," Arthur continued. "If Joseph flops, I'm throwing away two hundred thousand global dollars. It's not exactly pocket change."
Lucy clicked her tongue, grinding her teeth slightly. Her fists clenched at her sides. But in the end, she scoffed and muttered, "Fine. One million Hellions it is…"
Though her face showed irritation, Arthur sensed the wave of relief under her words. She'd finally unloaded someone she considered dead weight—and even made a profit from it.
Arthur smiled, flashing his teeth. "Pleasure doing business with you," he said, offering a handshake.
Lucy slapped his hand away without hesitation. "We'll finalize the paperwork and transfer soon," she muttered, turning sharply and walking off with a swish of her long coat.
Arthur watched her leave, then looked at Firfel beside him.
"Well," she said with a smirk, "that went smoother than expected." Her curious gaze lingered on him. "So… who exactly is this Joseph? Why did you suddenly decide to buy someone off your sister's agency?"
Arthur turned to her, his expression softening. Gently, he wrapped an arm around her waist. "Joseph Jackson. A young demon from the famous acting family—the Jacksons. Most people have written him off, but I see potential in him." He grinned. "And I'm willing to bet two hundred thousand global dollars on it."
Firfel raised an eyebrow, a curious smile playing on her lips. "Is that so? Now you've piqued my interest. What exactly did you see in him?"
"He's… an interesting one," Arthur chuckled, remembering the moment Joseph slapped his hand away after Lucy kicked him at the party. "Honestly, I don't think he even wants to be part of Hellfire."
'Doesn't want to join Hellfire?' Firfel mused, a flicker of surprise crossing her face. 'That's rare these days. Everyone's dying to get in.'
As they walked together, still mid-conversation, the bright flashes of cameras greeted them outside the castle gates. Reporters swarmed, eager for a glimpse or a quote.
Arthur and Firfel answered the reporters' questions with practiced ease. Firfel, already used to the media spotlight, handled the attention gracefully—her poise unshaken even by the most pressing rumors about her relationship with Arthur.
Arthur watched her in silence, admiration flickering in his eyes. The way she spoke, calm and unbothered, only deepened his affection. She never forced anything—never tried to make herself look perfect. She just was.
Then, a reporter from Morningstar Daily raised their voice, throwing out a more provocative question. "Mr. Pendragon, there are rumors that Vivienne Westwood is also romantically linked to you. Some claim she's deeply in love, and that she and Ms. Firfel are rivals—possibly even enemies. Is there any truth to that?"
The crowd of reporters held their breath, anticipating awkward expressions or defensive answers—especially from Firfel. They hoped the question might crack her calm demeanor.
Instead, Arthur and Firfel simply looked at each other—then burst into laughter.
"W-why are you laughing?" the Morningstar Daily reporter asked, confused.
Firfel, still chuckling, waved a hand apologetically. "Sorry… I just found that genuinely funny." She composed herself slightly, then added, "Vivienne is a friend of mine. There's no rivalry, no drama. And certainly no hatred."
She threw a playful glance at Arthur and smirked. "Besides, Arthur's not that desirable. We're both more interested in being great performers than fighting over a man."
Arthur feigned a wounded expression, clutching his chest. "Ouch. That hurts."
The reporters laughed—though some were clearly disappointed that the story wasn't as juicy as they'd hoped. Moments later, Arthur and Firfel slipped into their car, the doors closing softly behind them as the flashes faded.
As Arthur and Lucy left, Yoda watched them from a short distance, arms folded behind his back.
"Hmph… that demon actually forgot me," he muttered, shaking his head slightly.
Then, with a sigh and a small shrug, he added, "Oh well. I suppose I'll travel for now. Studied this kingdom's map, I have… getting lost, I will not." A small grin tugged at the corner of his lips as he turned away and walked into the bustling city streets, cloak fluttering behind him.
---
The next day, golden rays of sunlight washed over Ferland City. In the heart of its bustling central district stood one of the grandest buildings—an elegant structure that blended the grace of a Roman palace with the clean lines of modern architecture. Bold lettering gleamed at the top: Lucy Talent Agency.
Joseph walked the sidewalk with his hands buried in his pockets, the brim of his fedora casting a shadow across half of his face. Each step felt heavier than the last. The weight of the morning still lingered—another argument with his family over breakfast, more disappointment in their eyes.
As he approached the building, the polished glass doors slid open. In the marble-floored lobby, his manager greeted him with forced enthusiasm.
"He-hey, Joseph. You finally made it."
Joseph nodded quietly, eyes drifting past him—to Lucy, standing beside another man.
Arthur Pendragon.
"Joseph," Lucy said, her voice unusually warm, "Mr. Pendragon and I have finalized everything. You've been transferred to the Hellfire Talent Agency. Effective immediately."
"This is a huge opportunity!" his manager added eagerly. "Mr. Pendragon himself requested you. All you need to do now is sign."
Joseph's face remained unreadable, but he simply nodded. "Alright."
Both Lucy and his manager blinked in mild surprise. They had expected resistance, maybe even another outburst. But Joseph's lack of emotion unsettled them more than any protest.
He took the pen and signed.
Arthur stepped forward and placed a firm, reassuring hand on his shoulder. "Welcome to Hellfire, Joseph. I promise—you won't regret it."
Joseph met his eyes. There was no arrogance in Arthur's voice, only quiet confidence. For the first time in a while, Joseph felt a sliver of curiosity… maybe even hope.
He let out a soft chuckle. "We'll see."
'Whatever fate has planned for me, he thought, I'm done running. I'll face it head-on.'