We strolled through the garden pathways, the soft magical lights casting long shadows across the immaculately maintained grounds. The distant sounds of the party faded with each step, replaced by the gentle rustle of ornamental trees and the soft gurgle of hidden fountains.
"So," Latia said, her fan snapping open, "have you secured accommodations yet? For your... earthly adventure?"
I glanced sideways at her. "Not yet. Father's handling the property acquisition. Apparently, there's a house in Karakura Town near Kuoh that would 'maintain appropriate standards while establishing independence.'"
"Just a house?" Latia's eyebrow arched above her fan. "How very modest of you."
"I suggested a cave in the mountains. Father wasn't amused."
We reached the gazebo, a delicate structure of white marble and twisted iron that seemed to glow under the ambient light. I gestured for Latia to enter first, then followed, leaning against one of the support columns while she arranged herself gracefully on the small bench.
"I've been researching Kuoh," she said, closing her fan and tapping it against her palm. "The town itself is unremarkable, but the academy has an interesting history. Did you know it was originally an all-girls school?"
"No wonder Sirzechs and Serafall are so interested in it," I muttered. "Perverts, the both of them."
Latia's laugh echoed softly in the night air. "Perhaps. Though I suspect the strategic location has more to do with it. The town sits at an unusual nexus point of ley lines."
"Perfect for magical research, then."
"Among other things." She tilted her head, studying me. "Have you given any thought to what I mentioned during our call?"
"I've considered little else," I admitted, keeping my voice low despite our relative privacy. "Your... methodology seems sound."
"I thought you might appreciate the scientific approach." Her eyes gleamed in the dim light. "I've refined the parameters further. The human world will provide ideal conditions for extended testing."
"Extended testing," I echoed, my mouth suddenly dry. "Yes, that would be... thorough."
"I believe in thorough work." Her gaze dropped momentarily before meeting mine again. "Plus, I've always thought a Queen piece would look good on me."
The statement caught me off guard. "Queen piece? What are you—"
A sudden chill ran down my spine, cutting off my question. The hair on the back of my neck stood up.
Oh no. Not her. Not now.
"DA-CHAN! THERE YOU ARE! ★"
The high-pitched, star-punctuated exclamation confirmed my worst fears. I closed my eyes briefly, summoning whatever patience I could muster.
"I told Sona-tan you'd be hiding somewhere romantic! ★" The voice grew louder, more insistent.
I turned slowly to face the approaching figure, trying to arrange my features into something resembling a pleasant expression. Serafall Leviathan bounded toward us, her twin tails bounced with each excited step, and her pink eyes sparkled with an enthusiasm that promised nothing but trouble for me.
"Lady Leviathan," I managed, my voice strained. "What a... surprise."
"Mou! So formal, Da-chan! ★" She pouted dramatically, then immediately brightened. "I've been looking everywhere for you!"
"Thank you for the Kuoh arrangements," I said quickly, hoping to redirect the conversation to something safer. "The opportunity is... appreciated."
"Nonsense! ★" Serafall lunged forward, grabbing my arm and pressing herself against it, her considerable chest squishing against my bicep. "It was So-tan's idea! Well, mostly mine, but she agreed! Eventually! After I explained it fifty times! ★"
I tried to extract my arm with as much subtlety as possible. The Satan's grip only tightened.
"Speaking of Sona," Serafall continued, her voice somehow growing even more animated, "you simply must come say hello! It's been years since you two had a proper conversation! ★"
"I don't think that's—"
The brightness in Serafall's eyes dimmed slightly, replaced by something sharper—a reminder of the power behind the childish facade. "That wasn't a suggestion, Da-chan."
My protest died in my throat. I wasn't nearly powerful enough to challenge a Satan, especially not one who had legitimate grievances regarding my treatment of her beloved sister. Cute girl or not, Serafall could reduce me to a frozen statue with a thought.
"…Of course," I said, forcing a smile. "Lead the way."
Latia shot me a sympathetic look as Serafall practically dragged me away from the gazebo. "I'll catch up," she called after us.
Serafall pulled me through the garden at a pace just short of undignified, chattering about her latest magical girl series and how excited she was about the "adorable school uniforms" at Kuoh Academy. I made appropriate noises of acknowledgment while scanning for escape routes—all blocked by various groups of devils who watched our progress with barely concealed curiosity.
We reentered the ballroom through a side door, and Serafall made a beeline for a small group gathered near one of the refreshment tables. I recognized Sona Sitri immediately—her rigid posture somehow becoming even stiffer as she spotted our approach. Beside her stood Seekvaira Agares, her pale greenish-blonde hair perfectly styled and her pink eyes narrowing behind rectangular glasses.
From bad to worse, I thought, steeling myself for the inevitable confrontation.
"So-tan! Look who I found hiding in the garden! ★" Serafall announced, tugging me forward like a prize catch.
Sona's violet eyes met mine, cold enough to rival her sister's ice magic. "Valac."
"Sitri," I replied, matching her formality. "You look good."
"Do I?"
An uncomfortable silence fell over our small group. Seekvaira adjusted her glasses, the slight movement somehow conveying volumes of judgment.
"Agares," I nodded toward her, desperate to break the tension. "It's been some time."
"Not long enough, I imagine," Seekvaira replied. "At least from Sona's perspective."
Serafall's grip on my arm tightened painfully. "Now, now! We're all friends here! ★" Her tone remained cheerful, but the temperature around us dropped several degrees.
"Are we?" Sona's gaze never left my face. "Friends typically don't publicly humiliate each other."
"That was years ago, Sitri."
"Four years, two months, and seventeen days, to be precise," she replied. "Not that I'm counting."
Seekvaira sipped her drink, watching the exchange with analytical interest. "Fascinating. The tension between you two has barely diminished despite the passage of time."
"There's no tension," Sona and I said simultaneously.
"So much tension! ★" Serafall squealed, seemingly delighted by our discomfort. "Just like those romance shows where they pretend to hate each other but secretly—"
"Sister. Please."
I felt a presence behind me and nearly sagged with relief when Latia's voice cut through the awkward standoff.
"Lady Leviathan," she said, her tone respectful but firm. "I apologize for the interruption, but my uncle Ajuka has requested your assistance with a matter near the east wing."
Serafall's eyes widened. "Ajuka-chan needs me? It must be important! ★" She reluctantly released my arm, leaving behind an impression. "We'll continue this later, Da-chan! I know where you live, after all! ★"
With that ominous promise, she bounded away, leaving behind a wake of bemused onlookers.
"Your timing is impeccable," I murmured to Latia.
"A calculated risk," she replied quietly. "My uncle is indeed in the east wing, though I doubt he requested assistance."
Sona cleared her throat, drawing our attention back to her. "Latia. I wasn't aware you and Valac's outing was… successful."
"Recent developments," Latia said smoothly, opening her fan to partially shield her expression. "We share certain research interests."
"I'm sure." Sona's tone made it clear she suspected our interests extended beyond the academic. "Dante has always been... selective about his associations."
The use of my first name—deliberately casual, deliberately intimate—was a calculated jab. I felt Latia stiffen slightly beside me.
"I prefer quality over quantity," I said, keeping my voice neutral. "Speaking of which, how is your peerage developing? I heard you recruited some promising talent recently."
The shift to safer territory seemed to catch Sona off guard. "They... yes. My pawn, Saji, shows particular potential."
"Good. The Sitri name deserves strong representation."
Sona's eyes narrowed, searching for the insult hidden in the compliment. Finding none, she seemed momentarily at a loss.
Seekvaira broke the silence. "The Rating Game school proposal you submitted to the Council was impressively detailed, Sona. I particularly appreciated the emphasis on merit-based advancement."
"Thank you," Sona replied, some of the tension leaving her shoulders. "I believe talent should be recognized regardless of lineage."
"A progressive stance," I commented. "One I happen to agree with."
Sona's gaze snapped back to me, suspicion evident. "Since when do you care about meritocracy, Valac?"
"Since always. Contrary to popular belief, I don't actually wake up each morning looking for ways to antagonize you."
"No, that appears to be a natural talent rather than a deliberate effort," Seekvaira observed dryly.
To my surprise, Sona's lips twitched—not quite a smile, but a momentary crack in her perfect composure. "An accurate assessment."
The brief moment of almost-civility was interrupted by a commotion near the main entrance. I glanced over to see Rias Gremory making her grand entrance, fashionably late to her own party. Her crimson hair cascaded down her back, contrasting with the elegant white gown she wore.
"I should congratulate the guest of honor," Sona said, straightening her glasses. "Seekvaira?"
"Of course."
They departed with formal nods, leaving Latia and me alone in our corner of the ballroom.
"That went... better than expected," Latia observed, watching them go.
"The bar was extraordinarily low." I ran a hand through my hair, suddenly exhausted. "Serafall knows where I live. That's concerning on multiple levels."
"You're a pillar. Everyone knows where everyone lives." Latia touched my arm lightly. "More importantly, what was that about agreeing with Sona's meritocracy stance? A genuine comment or strategic positioning?"
"Can't it be both?" I leaned against the wall. "The aristocratic system is outdated. It wastes potential and rewards mediocrity wrapped in a fancy family name."
"Says the heir to one of the 72 Pillars."
"I'm aware of the irony." I glanced at her. "But you agree with me."
"I do." She snapped her fan shut decisively. "Which brings us back to our interrupted conversation. About the Queen piece."
Before I could respond, a servant approached with a message—my parents were requesting my presence for a formal introduction. The conversation would have to wait.
"Save me a dance?" I asked Latia as I prepared to navigate the social minefield once more.
"Perhaps." Her smile held promise. "But only if you survive Serafall's next ambush."
"Your confidence is overwhelming."
"One of us should be realistic about your chances." She shooed me away with her fan. "Go. Play the dutiful heir. We'll continue our discussion about... positions... later."