She sat at the small round table in the corner of the room where she ate her meals, but right now, she held an open book, eyes lazily scanning over the pages while the morning sunlight lit up the room. It poured in from the multiple windows whose dark drapes she had pulled back and the balcony doors she opened, allowing in the natural light and a nice cross breeze. Usually, she was still in bed pretending to sleep while waiting for Lucifer to leave for the day. She knew her actions were childish, but since that morning a couple of weeks ago, when he basically told her she was his property, there had been tension between them. However, she was healing quickly and growing painfully bored being confined to this one room. She wanted to get out and explore her new home, even if it was just the castle, but there was one huge issue that needed fixing, and the only one to fix it was him.

Her ears perked as the sound of his shower abruptly stopped, but she continued to read even when the bathroom door opened,

"Ah, decided not to avoid me by pretending to sleep this morning, hum?" He asked, walking into the bedroom. She knew he was naked as usual, so she didn't even bother looking up from her book.

"You knew?" She asked as she turned the page.

"Pretty obvious, unless it's common that your dreams are filled with malice and hatred every morning," He explained,

"And why are all the windows open? It's so bright?" He grumbled.

"Natural light and fresh air are good for you, and I don't hate you. I don't particularly like you, but I don't hate you." She corrected, shutting her book and turning in his direction; pretty sure he at least had underwear on.

"Use your words to lie all you want, Baby Girl, but I know the truth." He retorted, slamming the balcony doors shut.

"Fine, don't believe me." She shrugged, forcing herself to look away, so he didn't catch her staring at his mostly-naked body.

"You want something from me, don't you?" He asked, walking towards his closet, "That's why you've decided to break your vow of silence."

"Yes," She called after him as he vanished around the corner. "I'm able to move around again, and I would like to explore my 'new home.'"

She got up and returned the book to its proper place on the nearby bookshelf,

"Go ahead. I don't care what you do as long as it doesn't cause problems." He consented as he exited the closet wearing a pair of dark gray slacks and slipping his arms into a blue button-down shirt.

"Right, your permission isn't what I'm asking for. I need clothes." He looked up at her as his fingers worked their way up the buttons on his shirt, "I can't walk around the castle in an oversized shirt." She explained, holding out her arms to display the baggy shirt that barely covered her lower half as a smirk formed on his lips, and his eyes instantly dropped to the newly exposed skin of her thighs.

"Correct, you are, Baby Girl! A wardrobe for a queen," His unapologetic eyes snapped back up, but his smirk only grew more sinister, "besides, I'm tired of your body oozing all over my white shirts." He agreed as she got stuck on the word oozing.

Suddenly Lucifer grabbed her waist. She squealed and quickly shoved him off, "What are you doing!"

"Oh, stop it and come here." He snapped, pulling her back, "I'm just getting an idea of your size." He explained as he ran his hands along her figure, causing her to flush bright pink. "Dirty thoughts crossing your mind, Baby Girl?" He asked as the grin on his face grew, and he caught her eyes just long enough to wink.

"No, but I'm sure there are enough crossing yours for the both of us." She spat as he took his time feeling her proportions.

"Don't worry. I'm not going to touch you yet." He laughed, "But you're not wrong. You have a very nice figure and I wouldn't mind taking a closer look, but we're not married yet. What would God think?"

"Do you think I'm just going to hand myself over to you?" She asked scornfully.

"If you're a good wife, you will, and I believe we've already discussed how important it is for you to be a good wife. Now, I think I have all I need. I'll be gone for most of the day acquiring your wardrobe, so if you need anything, ask Belial." He instructed, walking for the door.

"Do I not get a say in my clothes?" She called after him, but Lucifer walked through the door, closing it behind him.

"Ahh!" She cried out, "Why is he so...so," She growled, walking to the balcony doors and throwing them back open, "What am I going to do?" She resigned, collapsing onto the bed and staring at the canopy above.

She quickly became lost in her own thoughts, and they spiraled into all the devious plans her fiancé could be cooking up. She lay there for quite some time before she couldn't take her thoughts anymore, so she got up and walked back to the bookshelf, hoping to find a distraction. Fortunately, the Young Prince seemed to enjoy reading. He had a wide variety of material in multiple languages, not just those from Earth. Sometimes those books captured her attention more than the ones she could read. Letters and symbols she had never seen before filled the pages of multiple books on Lucifer's shelves, and more than a few times, she found herself staring at the lines, just mesmerized by the print. The other day she found one book with lines that were just lines. Horizontal dashes beside each other varied in position, and occasionally a vertical line appeared. It was like an unsolvable puzzle she couldn't put down. Today, however, she grabbed a familiar book she hadn't seen in ages just as the door opened. Without turning around, she held the book over her shoulder,

"Is any of it true?" She asked. Dante's Inferno held tight in her hand.

"As true as any of the religious scripts on that shelf." Belial chuckled, not answering her question. She put the book back, deciding to let that conversation die before it began. Her mind was already raw, and another world-shattering realization might just break her.

The fallen angel walked over to the table and put down a food tray. The smell caused her mouth to water at the thought of breakfast, but she moved to the bed, where she sat down with her back facing Belial. She took off her shirt but held it tightly over her front, revealing her bandaged back. She heard Belial walk over, and he put down the medical bag he always carried next to her before digging through it,

"Lucifer wasn't at breakfast. Any idea where the Young Prince went?" Belial asked as she felt the cold scissors run up her back. Belial may be a large man, but he was astonishingly gentle.

"To buy me clothes." She replied unenthusiastically.

"I would think you would be happy about that?" He questioned, noticing her tone as the scissors cut through the bandages.

"It's Lucifer. He didn't bother asking what I wanted," She groaned as the bandages fell, and she felt Belial pull them away, "Having all morning to brood over it, I've decided, if I'm lucky, he'll return with fishnets and bralettes."

She heard Belial try to stifle a chuckle.

"Look, Lucifer is a handful, but he's not evil or cruel. He has a soul and a heart; find it, and maybe eternity won't be so bad." He suggested as he poked around the wounds on her back.

"A soul? Oh please, he's been rude and disrespectful," She snapped as Belial rubbed the salve onto her healing shoulder blades.

"How's your back been?" He asked, "Better, I hope?"

"Much!" She quickly replied, "Since you took the stitches out, it hasn't been nearly as itchy." She explained.

"Good, I'm glad to hear," He responded, retrieving the scissors and making quick work of the bandage on her shoulder. "As far as Louie's treatment of you, all I can say is you get what you give." Belial criticized as the cool air hit her exposed skin, "Oh? That's healing quite nicely." He mumbled, examining the red scarred skin, "The damage runs deep, though; you may have this scar for a while."

"I have done nothing," She defined, ignoring the comment about her shoulder.

"But despise him? Hate him? Fear him?" She turned her head to see Belial in her peripheral as he rubbed the same concoction onto her arm, "It's obvious you blame him for your situation. However, Lucifer had no more choice in this arrangement than you." He informed softly, "Put your shirt back on. We don't need to cover the wounds anymore."

"What do you mean he didn't have a choice?" She asked as he averted his eyes, and she quickly slipped her arms through the sleeves.

"The contract binding you two was made between my brother and God when Louie was a child. He only learned about the contract hours before you fell from the sky." Belial informed, packing his bag, "Do you know what the Young Lord's job is?"

"Torture?" She shrugged, buttoning up the shirt.

"Yes, but it's more than that. The demons employed by my brother do most of the torturing; Louie mostly arranges and manages it. But sometimes, some souls hold strong, ones the demons can't break. That is when Louie steps in, which is why he is respected and feared amongst the demons." Belial explained, and she shivered at the explanation. A breaker of souls?

"If you're trying to freak me out, it's working." She mumbled, yet again, Belial chuckled.

"You need to understand the chambers of Hell for the worst of the worst. The souls tortured here have committed the cruelest, most heinous, and unquestionably unforgivable crimes against others, and sometimes those souls are hard to break. They hold on to the idea that they'll escape, be released, find a way out," He scoffed, "some even think they can win over the Devil himself. These souls aren't here for redemption or to serve penance. They are here to pay the price for a lifetime of cruelty. To be punished for the path they chose to do and to do that, we must break their will."

This content has been misappropriated from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

"And that's Lucifer's job?"

"Yes, he makes them realize that they will suffer until no end because of the cruelty they showed. He destroys their hope just as they destroyed the hope of the people they wronged." Belial finished and snapped his bag closed before looking up and meeting her eyes, "I'm sure you've noticed his ability?"

"That he knows what I'm thinking." She cringed at the thought.

"Feeling, he can sense what those around him feel. I can only imagine what it's like down there with all those tortured souls. The pain, fear, and hatred. Devil or not, it wears on him. Though he would never admit such a thing, I know it does. It would wear on any soul, and now he returns to his room only to feel the same. He didn't ask for this. You betrayed God, and this is your punishment, but Louie, he didn't do anything except exist." Belial got up and walked to the door, "Offer an olive branch, and maybe you two can learn to tolerate each other because if it comes down to will, he'll break you. I promise that."

Before she could say another word, Belial was gone. His words swam through her head as she tried to hold on to the threads of her defense. Lucifer was cruel to her, threatening and belittling. He claimed she was his when he didn't even want her. He had shown no sympathy or understanding of her situation. Her thoughts caught as guilt started to creep in. He had helped her since she woke. He got her medicine. Sure he waited till the following morning, but he had helped her every night after, making sure she took her medication, cleaned her wounds, applied the ointment when she was unable, and still brought up her dinner every night. But he also told her she was no better than a slave and that she would do what he said or else. Could that be his retaliation for how she treated him? If Belial was right and he could sense her feelings, but that wasn't fair! She couldn't help how she felt. How was she supposed to hide how she felt? She had unconsciously made her way to the table with her breakfast on it, but as hungry as she had been when Belial arrived, the sight of the food made her stomach turn. Was this all her fault? Was she the bad guy?

~~~

Her mind was raw as she turned off the water in the bath. All day, she kept returning to what Belial had said. Maybe he was right. Perhaps he wasn't. Could Lucifer be a friend at the least, or was he just evil and dedicated to making her suffer? Or was she the villainess in this story? With a loud sigh, she tried again to push the thoughts out of her mind as she stripped her clothes off and climbed into the almost unbearably hot water. It felt so good. She couldn't remember the last time she had taken a bath. Had she bathed in Heaven? She didn't remember much of it anymore. It was like a perfect dream; when it's over, you remember how much you enjoyed it, but the details fade, and all you remember is the feeling. She did remember how much she enjoyed baths when she was alive.

As a kid and an adult, bubble baths were her favorite. Her mother used to fill the tub with bubbles, and she would play until they were almost all gone and the water was cold. She missed her mom. She wondered if her mother had ever recovered from losing her. She was an only child. Her father left them when she was very young, or at least that's what her mother told her most of her life. In her early twenties, she discovered that he didn't leave but went to prison for arson. He had set fire to three schools, a hospital, and a rehab facility. The death toll was close to a hundred. Her father swore he was innocent, and she had wondered for the few more years she lived after the discovery if he had been set up as he claimed.

Her thoughts went back to her bath, she wished she had bubbles now, and a smile teased the edge of her mouth at the idea of asking Lucifer to get her some. He'd probably bring back acid or something. She felt her troubles slipping away as the warmth of the water surrounded her like a blanket. She relaxed and finally was able to zone out when suddenly the door opened, and in walked her shameless fiancé with a black garment bag in hand,

"Lucifer!" She squealed, pulling up her legs up to her chest in an attempt to hide her body.

"What? I was getting worried. I've been back for over an hour now. What are you doing? Making a soup of yourself?" He chuckled as he hung the garment bag on the door.

"It's called relaxing." She justified as he turned and looked at her curiously, "Can you please leave?"

"Why so self-conscious? Or are you a prude? Poor William." He smirked.

"I'm not a prude. Believe me. He saw me plenty."

"So then it must be me!" He gasped. "And after I spent all day buying you things."

"What things did you buy?" She asked suspiciously.

"Well, let's see, shall we." He offered with a glint in his eyes as he turned to the black bag, "You said that you were well enough to start roaming, which means it shouldn't be an issue for you to begin attending meals. Breakfast and dinner in the dining room with my father, my damned uncles and aunts, and myself." He explained. She was about to ask him what his relatives did to him to cause such harsh words, but she realized he wasn't being mean, just stating the facts, "To celebrate the occasion, I took the liberty of choosing an appropriate outfit for this evening." He said as he unzipped the black bag on the door.

She caught a glimpse of teal as he pulled out whatever he was hiding. Lucifer stepped off to the side so she could see the garment. It was a dress. She never really liked dresses and immediately wondered if he knew that, but how would he? It was a beautiful dress, light blue on top that transitioned into a teal green on the bottom, a cinched waist with a skirt that fell just above the knees. The dress's skirt was layered, so it puffed out a bit, while the torso was fitted with a sweetheart neck that went up around to cap the shoulders.

"It's beautiful. Does it cover the back?" She asked.

"Self-conscious about those wounds, hum?" He teased.

"No, I just don't want the material irritating the wounds and reopening them. If the back is covered, I should probably wrap myself." She explained.

"It's covered. Finish your bath quickly and do whatever you need." He instructed, turning to leave.

"I'll need help." She called after him. She did need help. It was true, but Belial's words echoed in her mind, "I can't wrap it myself. It's too painful."

"I'll call for Belial." He answered.

"Or you could help," She suggested, "As long as you promise not to look."

"Pah, why would I help then?" He smirked.

"Fine, I'll figure it out." She sighed, "Could you at least grab the ointment off the side table for me, please?" She asked as she waited for him to leave.

He walked across the bathroom and grabbed her towel, "Seems I'm the slave now." He huffed, handing her the towel, "Dry off. I'll be back in a moment to help you."

She took the towel as he exited the bathroom, and she quickly got out of the tub, dried off, and pulled on her underwear before shielding herself with the towel. When he returned, he had the ointment in hand and the roll of bandages.

"Turn and drop the towel." He insisted.

"Ha!" She laughed, "I'll fight you,"

"A fight you would lose, Baby Girl," He laughed, "I'll tend your back. Now turn and drop."

Her face lit up, but she didn't falter, "Don't look." She demanded, "I can see you through the mirror. Just don't, okay?"

"Fine." He replied, "Just the back of the towel. I have to put the ointment on first so keep your front covered." Lucifer instructed, cautiously letting the towel fall from her back but holding it tight over her front, "It's looking a lot better; almost healed, it seems."

"Yea, it doesn't hurt as much anymore." She replied as he rubbed on the cream. It felt so cold and relieving. Though the pain was much more bearable, the ache was still there,

"That much better, is it?" His smirk visible in the mirror reflection.

"It's cold. It feels nice." She replied.

They stood there silently as he rubbed the ointment into the wounds on her back before moving to her arm, "Wow, that's crazy looking." He mumbled, running his fingers over the fern-like scars causing her to shiver. Lucifer pulled his hand back and shook his head, "Here, hold this around your front so I can wrap it around you. I won't look." He said, handing her the end of the bandages before looking down. "Drop the towel."

She did as he asked but watched him through the mirror. He kept his word as he wrapped over her shoulders and around her chest, careful not to wrap the bandages too tightly, "Thank you." She said once he was done.

"Put on your dress. I have something I want to show you before going to dinner." Lucifer responded.

She slipped the dress on but could not zip it, so she left the bathroom and asked for his assistance again, "Needy, needy Baby Girl." He obliged and pulled the zipper up, "Now come." He smirked, leading her towards the closet.

"Is that what you're wearing?" She asked, noticing he was wearing black jeans and the same blue shirt from this morning as she followed him across the room.

"Yes." And she swore she could feel his smirk as they walked into the closet, where she quickly noticed Lucifer had filled a quarter of the large room with dresses, some knee-length, some floor-length but all different colors and patterns.

"They're all dresses." She said, trying her hardest to be thankful,

"Yes, all dresses for my pretty little doll." He grinned, "Shoes to match as well." He added, walking past her and grabbing a pair of short heels still in the box.

"How?" She mumbled as she walked up to one dress that caught her attention.

"I have connections, Baby Girl. These dressed come from many different shops in many different," He began but abruptly stopped snapping his eyes back to her. "Why are you sad?" He demanded, "Annoyed, I figured, but why sad?"

She was staring at a floor-length blue dress, that color. It wasn't the same style, but the color was the same, it hurt her deep inside, and her eyes swelled with warm tears.

"What's it matter? You knew I wouldn't like this." She sighed, letting go of the dress and forcing her tears back, "You got what you wanted. Can we go to dinner now?"

"You, Baby Girl, haven't the slightest inkling of what I want. Now, I asked why you were sad." He insisted, not moving a bit.

"How did you know?" She asked, avoiding the question again.

"Humans are easy to read. You're headstrong, independent, and probably a bit of a feminist. Figured dainty little dresses weren't your thing." He explained, "You'll come to realize that I'm quite talented at reading people and not just because of my ability."

She let out a morbid little laugh, "So you deduced, accurately by the way, that I don't like dresses and then proceeded to get me a wardrobe full of them?"

"And I expect you to wear every one of them."

He stared at her with that damn smirk as she took a deep breath, remembering what Belial had said, "I'll wear them all but not that one." She said, pointing to the blue dress.

"You'll wear that one tomorrow." He replied as her heart skipped.

"Please," She said, trying to fight back the tears in vain, which seemed to make him uneasy, "Lucifer, not that one. I'll wear them all at your request, just not that one."

"Why?" He demanded, walking up to her and roughly wiping away her tears as if he didn't want to see them. She flinched at his aggressive touch.

"We died in that color." She whispered.

"We?" He questioned.

"I died in that color." She corrected.

He stared at her for a moment as she fought the tears that were trying to escape her eyes, "Let's go have dinner." He finally said, "And stop crying. Pretty dolls don't cry."

~~~

She woke the following morning to find Lucifer just getting out of the shower, "It's almost time for breakfast, Baby Girl. Get dressed." He instructed.

"Which dress do I have to wear?" She asked, the threat from last night on her mind.

"Whichever you like." He offered to her surprise. "Of course, if I don't like how it looks, I'll make you change, but the first choice is yours."

He just had to ruin it. Every time he said something almost nice, he had to add something to ruin it, she thought, walking to the bathroom to brush her hair and teeth and change her underclothes before heading to the closet. She looked around and finally chose a light yellow sundress with white polka dots all over the skirt. As she slipped it on in the privacy of the closet, she couldn't help but look for the blue dress again. As she scanned the wardrobe, she smiled. The dress was no longer there. Gone as if it never existed,

"What did you do in there?" He asked as she came out, smoothing down the dress, "I don't think you've ever been this happy here. Then again, you haven't been happy at all here, so it's not a huge accomplishment."

He wasn't looking at her; instead, he was bent over, tying his shoes.

"Thank you." She replied honestly.

"For what?" He asked as he stood up and stared at her.

"I don't hate you, Lucifer, and I don't want to, so please don't make me." She replied, walking out the door first.