(Baal is this King of Hell and he is third cat, toad, and human. This man is the master of invisibility and is gay for Baalzabud and that's the tea. Yes, I'm bringing demon fics back. He also has constant bedvoice but that's not well invoked.)

Maven lets his hair fall into his face as he looks upon the toad that resides under his bed. Watching him with slimy, golden eyes. The servants don't seem to notice the creature so he doesn't point it out. He just lets his gaze constantly find the being as it's entire presence tells him something is near. Golden eyes stare at him as he stands, dismissing the servants. And suddenly, golden eyes disappear when he crouches under to see where it went.

It wasn't the last time he's spotted those eyes.

The day the Scarlet Guard invaded the Whitefire Palace, killing Silvers with bombs and bullets. He saw a cat residing next to the cage made for the General and her servants. The cat purred, never breaking eye contact with the Prince. The moment he looked away, the creature was gone.

It was when he walks into the Whitefire Palace at last after the attack at his wedding do the servants and sentinels welcome the King and Queen back.

"It's good to see you back, Maven Calore."

The sound of his name said by a unique voice makes his head turn. His lips part as he makes eye contact with bright, golden eyes. His blood runs cold. He almost can't believe it. But as Iris's shoulder brushes against his he is forced to continue on.

A servant, a Red. Is it a power? Shapeshifter? Should he be questioning you or seeking you out for execution? Or is he just paranoid, something his mind made up after years of abuse?

Maven steps into his room, closing the door tightly behind it before locking it. His mind is filled with options. Radical thinking. Filtering out his ideas into more understandable thinking. What would a king do? What would his mother do?

He runs a hand through his hair, looking at his reflection in his mirror. His entire body freezes. He stares back at a pair of golden eyes, but it's his own face. He can't find himself breathing or blinking as he steps closer to the mirror. 

Has he lost his mind? This is absolutely stupid.

Maven looks away, almost bumping into your body. His heart stops. There's no way he can't recognize you, especially when you weren't standing there before. He backs away as you calmly sit on his bed, a golden-eyed cat crawling into your lap.

"Maven Calore." You conclude, tipping your head in respect. Your eyes flicker to his shoes as his back hits the wall. "Watch your step, Buel doesn't take nicely to getting stepped on."

He looks down and sees a toad only centimeters from his foot. He almost flinches but collects himself in time. Deep breathes, clear mind. Play this your way.

"Are you a Newblood? Animo, perhaps?"

You laugh, reaching down as your fingers graze the corner of the bed, and Buel is quick to hop into your palm.

"Not even close, Maven Calore." 

Maven is forced to watch as the toad melts into your hand, leaving nothing left as you rub your hands together. The cat purrs, the sound reflecting metal grinding on metal.

His mind travels to certain explanations. He looks into your eyes, trying to determine your blood color with simple clues. 

He tilts his head down and peers up at you, "What's your name? Will you be useful enough to answer that."

"Useful," you repeat, "I can be extremely useful. I have been watching you for quite some time, Maven Calore."

"Just Maven is fine. Oh, and speaking of names," he lingers on his words, cocking one of his eyebrows. His heartbeat is loud in his ears and he hopes you can't hear it.

"Baal. I am a Duchess, just for your satisfaction. Don't want you to talk to a common Red, right?"

"Duchess?"

"You doubt me, Maven Calore?" A mischievous smile forms on your lips. He can't help but smirk.

"How else am I supposed to believe you? Who says I won't summon my sentinels now?"

You whisper to yourself, "summon. How interesting." The cat in your lap melts into your stomach as you stand up, almost making you gain some height. Maven doesn't move as you step up to him. A familiar smell hits his nostrils as you stand in front of him. Burnt wood. A fireplace. A burning building. Disaster.

"I am the Duchess of... the East. I and my siblings are also known as," you meet Maven's eyes, "princesses and princes."

"That didn't tell me where."

"East. Hell." You almost hesitate, turning away from Maven to not see his reaction. He just bites his lips, trying to read you. But you are nearly emotionless in your Red vest and Red body. It almost terrifies him. What would Elara do?

"So, Duchess of East Hell, what are you doing here? Why have you been keeping your golden eyes on me?"

"You've noticed," you give him a backward glance before continuing to scan his room. 

When you don't continue he grinds his teeth, "You may as well be the Duchess of ignoring my questions."

"Again," you interrupt, "I can be useful. If you know how to use me. Tiberias didn't."

"Tiberias?" He tilts his head, taking a step closer to you. His heart wants him to call for the sentinels or ignite his bracelet, to take you against him himself. But his brain wants to know more. Wants to know what he can get his hands on. How he can cheat life. "Do you follow bloodlines?"

"Thrones. I follow thrones. I don't care about your bloodline. What a stupid question."

"At least I got you to answer it." Maven stands behind you, holding his wrist to stop his hands from shaking. You turn around and look at him, golden eyes melting his soul. You smirk, hearing how loud his heartbeat was. Spared, you think. You won't embarrass him. 

You two stare at each other for a second, not knowing what to say. His blue eyes are soothing to look into, you conclude from your time in his room. He is a far less developed king than Tiberias. But far more interesting. Surely, you should pester. 

He drops his gaze, "What's your cats name?"

"Baell."

"Wow, that sounds familiar." He grins, "Baal, Buel, and Baell."

"All the different names people have given me." The emphasis on the word me made him quake a bit. "After generations and generations. Cultures and cultures, of course. There are far others. Satan is another one but," you shake your head, "I'm not that one."

"Satan?"

"Lucifer?" His puzzled gaze makes you freeze, "Oh, you haven't heard?"

"I have not heard of Lucifer, no."

Your lips part as you tilt your head, putting a finger to your lips.

"Well, that doesn't matter, anyways. I am here because I like it when the human race cheats. I have been following you because you were destined to be king."

Destined to be king. Like Cal wasn't, he supposed. Still, the words continue to echo through his head. He can't find words. Destined. 

"Cheat?"

"I assume you don't want to die," you take a step closer to him and place your hands on his chest, "again, I shall add."

"I didn't see you there."

"I watched." You stop yourself from continuing. Maven takes a step back, walking away from you.

"Interesting. Why should I watch you now? Assuming you won't repeat the act of standing and watching."

You laugh, "I most certainly won't if you decide to work with me. I'll give you a long life with fortune, and you'll give me sanctuary. I'll be your second-hand, for lack of a better term. I want a word in wars and all your decisions."

Maven huffs, his mind racing. He doesn't open his mouth, knowing only a sea of stutters will come out.

"You have two minutes, Maven Calore, what do you say?"

He doesn't see any faults. He knows there must be a twist. Will you be making all the decisions? Making him seem war hungry? Making him out to be the bad guy? 

But a long life is the idea that consumes his mind. Fortune. A Duchess of Hell making all the important decisions. 

"Fine. But I am there when you make the decisions."

You smirk, holding your hand up to him. It takes him a second before he shakes it. His touch is warm, but yours is scorching. 

He stares into your yellow eyes as they dial down, becoming a deep (E/C). 

"I look forward to our business together, Maven."