She had tried to sleep, but every time she got close, her mind snapped back to the unavoidable fact that it would be her wedding day when she woke. Tossing and turning, she finally gave up and got out of bed. She glanced over to where her soon-to-be husband slept deeply. With a sigh, she crawled out of bed and crossed the room into the bathroom. She used the toilet and splashed some water on her face before returning. Not willing to go back to her restless struggle, she went out on the balcony and stared at the stars, wondering what the future held for her.

"You really should get some sleep." His voice called from the balcony doors, causing her to jump.

"Easier said than done." She sighed as he approached, wearing pajama pants and an unbuttoned white shirt, his dark black hair tussled from sleep. He offered her a glass which she took expecting whiskey but instead saw a dark red liquid, "Wine?" She questioned.

"Aye, from Kelil, the one you liked so much." He answered as she sipped it and smiled.

"You got a bottle for me?" She smiled, looking up at him.

"A few. Consider it a wedding gift." He replied, bumping her with his shoulder before leaning forward on the railing, his glass held tightly in his hand.

"I don't know if I'll ever figure you out, Lucifer." She replied.

"If you do, let me know." He chuckled, "I've been trying for as long as I can remember."

"Can I ask you something?"

"What is it?"

"Did you really not know?" She asked, "I mean about me and this whole...spectacle?" She clarified.

"The contract?" He questioned, and she nodded, "No, I did not. But a lot of my life is guesswork." He shrugged running his free hand through his hair taming it a bit, "Though I won't lie, I'm a bit upset with my father about this one. He's never been the most loving parental figure, but arranging my marriage before I was even old enough to understand and then hiding it for thousands of years?"

"Sorry." She offered.

"Could be worse I suppose. You're not nearly as terrible as I figured you would be."

"Thanks?" She rolled her eyes and sipped her glass,

"Oh, come on, Baby Girl," He laughed, "You really must learn to take a compliment."

"Give me a proper one, and I will." She retorted.

"Very well," He groaned, "You look quite beautiful this evening, most evenings actually," She scoffed, "I'm serious. I like you best this way."

"What? In your shirt, so you can see my ass hanging out?"

"No, well, I don't mind that, but no. I like you like this," He stated, waving a hand at her, "No makeup, messy hair, side eyes, and a real smile if I can actually make you laugh and not roll your eyes."

"Is that so?" She hummed with a bit of blush on her cheeks.

"Yes. You're cutest at bedtime or in the morning and, as you know, I like cute.”

"Oh,” She mumbled, sipping her wine, "I always thought that's when I look my worse."

"You're wrong." He replied, which was followed by a short pause.

"Thank you, Lucifer.” She thanked sincerely still blushing, “Sorry if I woke you up.”

"It's okay. I'm becoming used to your nighttime acrobatics. You know you cause quite a bit of ruckus for someone so small." He accused, "Especially tonight. You seem unusually fidgety."

"Isn't it normal for a bride to be nervous before her arranged wedding day?"

"Don't tell me you're getting cold feet?" He teased.

"Cold feet? I have frost bite by this point." She retorted.

"Ouch, am I really that bad?" He huffed jokingly, "And after I've been so kind to you."

"It's not you, at least not mostly," She sighed, "it's just that I'm being forced to marry. I married for love, and that was the best day of my life, but now, I don't expect you to understand. It's nothing personal, Lucifer." She explained,

"Sounds a bit personal." He replied.

"It's not like you want to marry me either." She rationalized, staring up at the sky.

"To be fair, I didn't want to marry anyone." He clarified, straightening up and pulling out a cigarette and matches, "However, I could name more than a few who I would rather marry less than you if that's any consolation." He offered, putting it to his lips and lighting the tip.

"Lucifer?"

"Hum?" He asked putting out the match and tossing it.

"Have you ever loved anyone?"

There was a short pause, "I loved my brother." He finally answered, exhaling smoke.

"Not like that. I mean romantically?"

"No." He responded quickly and unemotionally, "Love makes one weak and gives their enemies a tool to exploit."

"You're the next in line to rule Hell. Who would dare,"

"Many, Baby Girl, don't be naive. Many do not wish me to take the throne and would take drastic measures to prevent it." He warned. "A few of which you will meet tomorrow."

Her heart skipped a beat. "Should I be worried?" She asked.

"Yes, always." He replied, "But I'll keep you safe. So will my father and those close to me."

She didn't know what else to say, so she stared back at the sky while he stood next to her. He offered her his cigarette, and she took it. Taking a couple of pulls, she handed it back to him before sipping her wine,

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"I didn't sleep with her." He finally said, causing her to choke a little on the wine in her mouth.

"For the last time, I don't care who you sleep with. Just please don't embarrass me. I don't want to spend eternity being known as your pathetic little wife. If I'm going to be the Queen of Hell, I at least want the power of the title." She replied but couldn't help feeling a bit relieved at his confession.

"You're lying, Baby Girl. How easily you forget that I know what you're feeling." He smirked as she felt her cheeks flush, bringing the glass back to her lips.

"Ok fine! I mostly don't care." She huffed, averting her eyes from his, "Don't read too much into it, Jr. It's more of a possessive thing. How would you feel if I was sleeping with, uh, I don't know, Milril and flaunting it in front of your face?" She asked as an example.

"If you're sleeping with Milril, I'll rip out his throat in front of everyone as you walk up the aisle tomorrow." He responded nonchalantly as she actually choked on her wine this time, sending her into a coughing fit.

"No, no, I'm not. I was just using Milril as an example!" She quickly explained.

"I know you're not, but just in case the idea ever crosses your mind remember you are mine. My doll and I won't share you, Baby Girl. In fact, you'll find I'm very greedy." He said, flicking the cigarette off the balcony.

"And hypocritical, you can sleep with whomever you want, but I can't?" She scoffed.

"It's really for your own good. What happens if you become pregnant?" He asked,

"That's poor justification, Lucifer."

"I already told you I don't like drama, Baby Girl, and having my wife, the future Queen of Hell, impregnated by another man is drama." He sighed, turning his head to stare at her, "However, if you choose to disobey me and do end up with child, once it's born, I will take it from you and send it to another world where you will never find it. As far as the father, I'll kill him, or maybe I won't, but you'll never find out because you'll never see him again, either way."

There was a long pause, "That's really fucked up." She finally said.

"Actions have consequences, and I think it's better you know what those consequences are before deciding if the action is worth it." He explained, looking back out into the night and sipping his drink, "If you need someone to keep you warm at night, just let me know."

~~~

She opened her eyes with a yawn and a stretch to see the room glowing with the early morning sun. Surprised to find the window drapes were pulled back, she sat up. Looking to the left, she found an empty bed, and she wondered where he had gone after noticing the bathroom was dark and empty. Not overthinking it, she got out of bed. She hadn't taken more than a couple of steps when she heard a knock on the door,

"Yes?" She called out, figuring it was a servant, but suddenly the door sprang open with a bang. She nearly fell over due to heart failure, and in walked Azazel with two large garment bags across her arm and a large duffel bag on her shoulder,

"Good morning Princess!" She greeted, dropping the bags on the bed.

"For fuck sake, Azazel, what are you doing here so early?" She sighed, trying to calm her thumping heart.

"What am I doing here?" She dramatically gasped, "It's your wedding day, and I'm your maid of honor. My sworn duty is to make sure your special day is perfect." She replied, placing her hand on the wrong side of her chest.

"Nobody made you swear anything, and the wedding isn't until sundown,"

"And there is a lot to be done. Fernya, come on in!" Azazel called, and before she could ask, in walked a very fit woman carrying a folded table, "First, we're going to get some of that pre-wedding tension worked out." Azazel smiled as the woman opened the table. She recognized it as a massage table.

"Strip your clothes, please." The woman insisted.

"Why are you doing this?" She asked skeptically, ignoring the order.

"Because it's your wedding day, and you're my friend." Azazel smiled, but she returned a glare, "And because Lucifer asked me to." She added.

"He asked you to get me a masseuse?"

"Milady, please remove your clothes and lie down." The woman insisted, sounding a bit annoyed.

"He asked me to keep you calm and try to make you happy, but yes he did suggest Fernya. Now go on, Fernya is the best, but she's not patient."

She sighed, stripped her pajamas off, and laid down on the table, only wearing her underwear. Fortunately, Fernya covered her with a sheet before beginning her work. Starting on her shoulders, she couldn't help but sigh a bit as Fernya worked,

"So much stress for a woman so young," Fernya commented.

"Well, I am being forced to marry the Devil and spend all eternity standing by his side as the Queen of Hell." She mumbled.

"You should be honored to marry the Young Lord." She replied, "He is a good man, always taking excellent care of me."

"Taken care of you?" She questioned the masseuse.

"Yes, I give the Young Lord massages, and he pays me well," Fernya answered.

"I see." She mumbled.

"Also, very good in bed. When I was younger and unmarried, we shared quite a few nights,"

"Ok!" She snapped, "I get it. Jeez, has he slept with every woman here?" She huffed.

"What do you expect? He's like fifty thousand and something?" Azazel laughed, "Silver lining, he's very experienced. Trust me. You won't be disappointed."

"Can we please stop talking about this?" She groaned as Fernya moved down to her back, and she swore she heard her chuckle.

Azazel also chuckled, but she said nothing else as the half-demon moved around the room, making her a little uncomfortable, but the soothing massage felt marvelous, and she finally zoned out, allowing herself to relax.

"I'm done, milady. How do you feel?" Fernya asked.

"Great, thank you." She answered honestly and got up.

"No need to thank me, it is my job." She replied, folding the table up and leaving the room as quickly as she entered.

She looked around, a little dazed and wearing only her underwear,

"Princess! Come on, bath time." Azazel called, poking her head out of the bathroom.

Sighing, she walked across the room and into the bathroom, greeted with the lovely fragrance of flowers and soap. The bathtub was filled with a milky white liquid, and Azazel was lighting the last of many candles,

"This is how you relax?" She asked, a little taken aback.

"Not quite this exquisite, but I'm not the future Queen. This is my favorite bath soak, though. It makes the skin nice and soft." Azazel answered, "Now in you go, but leave your hair out. I'll start brushing it."

"That is not necess..."

"Tut-tut Princess, do as I ask, huh? You wouldn't want to get me in trouble now, would you?"

"Fine." She relented and waited for Azazel to turn away, but she just stared, "Turn around, Azazel!" She snapped after a few moments.

"What? We're both women," She glared at Azazel, "You really are a prude, aren't you?" Azazel laughed but turned her back.

Rolling her eyes, she slipped off the undergarments and climbed into the milky bath, which was warm and soothing. As requested, she let her hair fall out behind the tub as she sank her whole body under the opaque surface. Azazel glanced, making sure she was situated before coming over with a stool and a hairbrush. Without a word, she sat and began to brush through her hair softly. The bath was peaceful, the water seemed to encircle her like a blanket giving more than just warmth but comfort as well, and with Azazel playing in her hair, she quickly drifted off to somewhere between consciousness and sleep,

"I have to admit, Princess, I don't think I've ever played in hair as lovely as this." Azazel spoke, bringing her back to the bathroom, "Has it always been this way?"

"Umhum, my mom said I have my father's hair. Fine and whispy, but a ton of it. The only problem is it gets very frizzy in humid weather." She answered.

"You take good care of it." Azazel pointed out.

"Yes, I take excellent care of it. Well, when I was alive, I did, at least." She verified, "Not much of an option here. I can't even get my own pair of pajamas. I doubt I can convince Lucifer to take me product shopping." She confessed with a yawn.

"I'll see what I can get you. Now, out we go. I imagine that water is a little chilly by now." Azazel ordered.

Azazel was right. The water had turned cold, so she stood up. Feeling a solid thump against her back, she touched her head, realizing Azazel had braided her hair.

"Figure you'll wear it down, seeing as how pretty it is. I pulled a few oils and cream through so that it should hold a beautifully wavy shape when the braid comes out." Azazel explained, averting her eyes.

"You seem to know a lot about girly stuff." She chuckled, stepping out of the tub.

"Can a woman not be fierce and beautiful?" Azazel asked as she quickly dried herself off, "I know how to take care of myself in all situations, battlefield and gala's alike." She snipped, holding out a silk robe designed with flowers, "If you need help with makeup later,"

"Oh no, I can handle that. When I was alive, I loved makeup and was good at it. I even had a small side gig doing makeup for events." She replied, "Mostly for friends and acquaintances." She added, sliding the robe on and tying it around the waist.

"Right, breakfast time. I imagine Vassal has brought it up by now." She said, leading the way out of the bathroom, and sure enough, two trays of food sat on the table, "Come, let's eat." Azazel insisted, ushering her to the table. Admittedly she was starving, and the aroma of food made her mouth water.