#petite duchess

[br3akfestattiffanys]

Petite Duchess Mini Dress by Miror Palais ཻུ۪۪♡

[petit-piaf]

I was kindly gifted these Edwardian Tango Boots from American Duchess in a collaboration. It was honestly perfect and I knew I wanted to pair these with the classic Morgane OP by Mary Magdalene. I also made a whole new necklace hehe. I loved how this came out!

I miss being outside in the woods and I hope I can get out soon

OP: Mary Magdalene

Hair piece and bag: Victorian Maiden

Necklace: handmade

Floral corsage pin: Pink House

Shoes American Duchess

[courseyoulovemeyoudontknowme]

Marie Antoinette (2006, Sofia Coppola)

03/10/2025

[chic-a-gigot]

Le Petit écho de la mode, no. 13, vol. 18, 29 mars 1896, Paris. 20. 1. Toilette de mariée en satin duchesse. 2. Toilette de demoiselle d'honneur en soie ivoire. Ville de Paris / Bibliothèque Forney

[world-of-wales]

CATHERINE'S STYLE FILES - 2016

30 APRIL 2016 || British Vogue released portraits featuring The Duchess of Cambridge for their Centenary Edition Cover.

[roehenstart]

Élisabeth-Marguerite d'Orléans, petite-fille de France (1646-1696). Par Charles et Henri Beaubrun.

[take-ya-to-the-ghey-bar]

@meretrixious

coconut my princess

[ardenrosegarden]

[petit-piaf]

I also had the honor of modeling the American Duchess Foxtrots after being gifted them. I decided to go with a very OTT Bridgerton inspired EGL outfit. I do like how it looks ever so slightly balletcore as well.

OP: Victorian Maiden

Corset: Royal Tailor on etsy

Necklace and belt: handmade

Socks: Baby the masters Shine Bright

Shoes: American Duchess Foxtrot shoes

[take-ya-to-the-ghey-bar]

@meretrixious

[theghostkingisdead]

dpxdc - Neglected Child AU

As one of his first acts as Ghost King, Danny basically created ghost CPS. Mostly they help new spirits come to terms with the fact that they're dead, but situations like Danny's are a lot more common than the Observants had lead him to believe. People who come back from the dead or are exposed to large quantities of unstable ectoplasm often lead sad, short second lives. Either because they are unable to obtain the nutrients their new forms require, or because their communities turn against them in fear. This is a story about Jason Todd.

There was a lot Jazz loved about her job. She loved helping young ghosts find acceptance. She loved matching cases with foster Fraids. She loved meeting new people. She loved the rare excuse to travel dimensions. But some days, Jazz was intimately reminded of why this program was formed in the first place.

Knock, knock, knock.

Jazz looked up from her laptop. “Come in!”

Apple – the ghost of a dryad whose tree was chopped down two summers ago – poked her head in.

“Uh, Lady- I mean, Ms. Phan-, no,” Apple took a shuddering breath. Jazz smiled encouragingly. The girl had only been working here for a season, and already she was making excellent progress. “Ms. Jasmine, there’s a city spirit here to see you, uh, on behalf of a uh, potential client.”

“Thank you, Apple, you can send them in.” Jazz said.

Apple flushed green, closing the door with a sigh. Jazz guessed she had about two minutes before the impromptu meeting began. She used the time to sweep some papers off her desk and into a drawer. It had been some time since she’d had a walk-in like this. Jazz had a strict open doors policy when it came to her office, despite the technical fact that her door was often closed; it was just easier to focus that way! She had no idea why most ghosts preferred to submit claims by mail, really it was much better for them to speak with an officer in person.

Thirty years ago, Jazz would’ve had trouble describing the spirit that walked through the doors. Fifty years ago, even looking at it would’ve been painful. But Jasmine Duchess Phantom had been living in the Infinite Realms for almost eighty years now, and liminal senses reached out subconsciously, cataloging scents and colors that her mortal mind would have balked at.

The shape of a steel-colored skeleton peered out at her from a billowing cloud of grey smoke, which curled around its feet and seeped across the floor. Jazz tasted gunmetal and sugar, smelled stale urine and burned bread, felt desperation-fear-hunger-love crash violently against her. Like a cliff to a wave, Jazz stood her ground, letting herself be tested. This spirit was old and afraid; when it spoke, it spoke in a million overlapping voices.

“My apologies for barging in unannounced, Your Grace. I come before you with an issue of great import. One I have reason to believe our King may have a personal interest in.”

Jazz nodded, “My doors are always open, City Spirit. I’m always happy to help. But before I hear your petition, may I know who I am addressing?”

The skeleton did not move that she could see, but Jazz heard windchimes like chittering laughter.

“I am Gotham, Your Grace. My apologies for my rudeness. I have little reason to travel these days and am unaccustomed to necessary introductions.”

Jazz nodded, committing the name and its taste to memory. “No need to apologize, Gotham. Your situation is not unique amongst your kind. Have a seat,” Jazz gestured at the plush couch across from her desk. “What troubles you so, to bring you so far from home?”

There was more windchime tittering, and Jazz wondered if the spirit was laughing or just readjusting itself on a plane she could not see. A nervous tick, perhaps? Maybe she could send Apple for something to make Gotham feel more at ease. Bullet casings or chocolate chip cookies would be equally soothing to this entity, Jazz guessed.

Gotham folded into itself, form blurring slightly before reforming on the couch, leaned forward with elbows on knees. “Many years ago, a mortal man pledged himself to my service. I accepted him as a City Guard, my mortal Champion. This man has many children who have likewise pledged themselves to my protection.”

Jazz smothered the urge to interrupt. She loathed the idea of child Guards; the fact that this City Spirit was here now asking for help meant that this instance had gone just as well as it usually did.

Unaware of her internal judgement, Gotham continued. “The second child died and revived some seven years ago, I…” This time, the rattling sound emanating from Gotham shook the room with the force of a thunderclap. “You have to understand, I don’t claim kids as champions, so technically he was never even under my protection. And when he came back, he ran! I don’t have power outside the city, you know, so even if, well, it’s not like there was anything I could have done differently,”

Jazz was aware that she was frowning. She could only guess what her aura felt like to Gotham, whose smoky aura was rapidly thickening. A bird puffing itself up to look bigger. A cheap trick. If Jazz were in a more compassionate mood, she might have felt embarrassed at such a juvenile display from a spirit decades older than herself.

“You neglected a child, or-” she cut off Gotham before it could protest, “allowed a child to be neglected. For seven years. What changed? Why petition him now and not then?”

Gotham chittered, “Well, you see, he came back to me just over a year ago, retook his pledge and everything. And, well, things were rough, I thought the fraid was just readjusting itself, but, er-”

“Tell me.”

“Well, the problem is I don’t exactly know what the boy is anymore, but he’s more ghostly than not, and his fraid’s fully human. If this infighting between my Guards goes on for any longer, it’ll tear me apart. I figured The King might want to step in, considering this boy might be a halfa, maybe he could help him and the fraid get back to normal.”

Jazz grinned. “Rest assured, Gotham, The Crown will indeed be taking special interest in your case.” Words dripped from her lips, caustic even to her own ears. “Now, why don’t you go outside and give Apple the rest of the details. I have some visits to make.”

[angeljpg]

the petite duchess mini dress in slipper pink.

[chic-a-gigot]

La Mode nationale, no. 1, 7 janvier 1899, Paris. No. 19. — Groupe de toilettes. Bibliothèque nationale de France

(1) Collet de jeune femme, en drap bleu marine, formant la pointe devant et garni de deux grands revers d'astrakan. Col Médicis tuyauté en astrakan.

(1) Young woman's collar, in navy blue cloth, forming the point in front and trimmed with two large astrakhan lapels. Medici collar piped in astrakhan.

Matériaux: 3 mètres drap.

—

(2) Toilette de réceptions, en satin duchesse noir. Jupe plate devant et à godets derrière, avec broderies de soie noire formant volant et tablier. Corsage ajusté avec ballons à pans arrondis, garnis de revers brodés, gilet plissé en mousseline de soie noire, manches unies.

(2) Reception dress, in black duchess satin. Flat skirt in front and godets in the back, with black silk embroidery forming a flounce and apron. Fitted bodice with rounded-pan balloons, trimmed with embroidered lapels, pleated waistcoat in black silk muslin, plain sleeves.

Matériaux: 14 mètres satin.

—

(3) Collet de jeune fille en draperie perle, long derrière et court devant, avec volant froncé surmonté d'une baguette de drap piqué formant dents arrondies, col Médicis garni de velours à l'intérieur,

(3) Young girl's collar in pearl drapery, long at the back and short at the front, with gathered flounce topped with a strip of pique cloth forming rounded teeth, Medici collar trimmed with velvet on the inside,

Matériaux: 3 mètres drap.

—

(4) Toilette de bal pour jeune fille, en satin rose. Jupe fourreau, garnie dans le bas d'un volant de dentelle et sur les côtés de deux pans de satin brodés, de robes formant tablier. Corsage blouse en mousseline de soie plissée avec berthe de dentelle rappelant la jupe, chou de satin rose sur le côté, petites manches ballons, ceinture de satin rose.

(4) Young girl's ball gown, in pink satin. Sheath skirt, trimmed at the bottom with a lace flounce and on the sides with two embroidered satin panels, forming an apron. Blouse bodice in pleated silk muslin with lace berthe like the skirt, pink satin chou on the side, small balloon sleeves, pink satin belt.

Matériaux: 10 mètres satin; 3 mètres mousseline en 120.

—

(5) Toilette de bal pour jeune femme, en satin liberty vert d'eau. Jupe toute plate en dentelle avec volant de satin liberty, plissé vert d'eau. Corsage croisé en satin liberty vert d'eau avec boléro en forme en satin brodé de perle et de pierres.

(5) Ball gown for young woman, in water green liberty satin. Flat lace skirt with liberty satin flounce, water green pleats. Crossed bodice in water green liberty satin with shaped bolero in satin embroidered with pearls and stones.

Matériaux: 13 mètres satin; 4m.50 dentelle en lèse.

—

(6) Toilette de jeune fille, en moirine bleu ciel. Jupe toute plate avec volant en forme, très bas devant et haut derrière, Corsage blouse à draperies plates garnies de revers découpés en trois et garnis de petits velours noirs et de ruban plissé blanc. Gilet et nœud de tulle blanc, ceinture bleu ciel, manches unies.

(6) Young girl's dress, in sky blue moire. Very flat skirt with shaped flounce, very low in front and high in the back, Blouse bodice with flat draperies trimmed with lapels cut into three and trimmed with small black velvets and white pleated ribbon. White tulle waistcoat and bow, sky blue belt, plain sleeves.

Matériaux: 14 mètres moirine.

[take-ya-to-the-ghey-bar]

@meretrixious

[fantasyescapes17]

Closed Doors (Part 2)

Soonyoung had made peace with his station in life. A younger son of a little-known family, he was not set to inherit a fortune and had nothing to recommend him but his bright personality. Nobody expected Soonyoung to make the match of the season. But when you- a woman with ties to the royal family and riches beyond his imagination, a Duchess in your own right- seeks Soonyoung's hand in marriage, his life begins to spiral entirely out of his control.

Genre: Hoshi x female!reader. Regency!AU. Your title is the Duchess of Graham but your first name is not mentioned.

Warnings: Wedding night so mentions of sex but nothing explicit is described, it fades to black. Not even remotely historically accurate. Much like Bridgerton, this is all about the aesthetic.

Word Count: 7.5k+

Part 1 Part 3

Series Masterlist [This is not the first installment in this series- it is strongly recommended to visit the Masterlist and read the installments in order as they are all interlinked and the timeline can be confusing.]

"I've known the Duchess for most of my life," Viscount Hong explained as the carriage rattled along the cobblestone streets. "Our late fathers were close friends. My sister and I spent a few summers at the Graham's duchy in our childhood; although my sister was probably too young to remember much of that."

Soonyoung tried to focus on the Viscount's words, but it was difficult to hear them over the sound of his own pounding heartbeat. The two gentlemen were on their way to your manor now. Soonyoung had asked to speak with you himself, though as the manor looked closer, he was beginning to regret his decision. 

What was he going to say to you? What did one even say to a Duchess who had proposed marriage after a single conversation? Thank you? 

Soonyoung cleared his throat and tried to focus on the conversation. He needed to understand as much as he could from the Viscount before he faced you. 

"Did you never think of marrying her yourself?" Soonyoung asked. 

Viscount Hong looked surprised. "Oh- erm… not with any real seriousness. I will admit our late fathers may have preferred it. The Duchess is a good person, but I am not sure we were ever compatible in that way."

"So you were not compatible with her," Soonyoung replied in mild disbelief as he looked at the handsome, rich and otherwise impeccable Viscount in front of him, "but somehow you think I am compatible with the Duchess? Me? The second son of the Kwon family who doesn't have a single useful talent or penny to his name, me?"

The Viscount Hong sighed. 

"Soonyoung, think about this rationally. The Duchess is a young woman who has no surviving family and has been burdened with a title, fortune, and dukedom that nobody in the ton thinks she should have. She did not even have a chance to properly mourn her father; the moment he died, there were petitions submitted to the Queen by noblemen protesting her title and seeking to take her lands from her. She is fighting a battle against some of the most powerful men in the country, all alone. What do you think she wants in a husband?"

Soonyoung stared at the Viscount blankly. 

"I haven't the slightest idea," he admitted. 

The Viscount pressed his fingers to his temples. "She wants someone she can trust, Soonyoung. She came to me for help. I will not lie to you. I did introduce her to other eligible gentlemen. For some reason, she turned them all down. The Duchess only expressed an interest in you."

Soonyoung felt nauseous. "But we only talked about cakes."

"What?"

"At the ball. During our dance. I was nervous and she asked me why her ball exceeded the usual London ones, so I told her she had a better selection of cakes. That is all we talked about during the dance, Viscount Hong. Cakes," Soonyoung admitted worriedly. "I just can't understand why she would…"

The Viscount smiled. 

"You had better ask her yourself, then. We have arrived."

—----------------------------------------------

The Duchess' manor was as intimidating and magnificent as Soonyoung remembered it. He still felt unworthy to walk these grand halls. He followed Viscount Hong anxiously as a servant led the two gentlemen towards one of the many drawing rooms that Soonyoung had never set foot in before. 

"Viscount Hong and Mr. Kwon are here, Your Grace," the servant announced their arrival. 

You were seated near the window, but rose gracefully to greet the gentlemen. Soonyoung was struck once again by your beauty. In the absence of the sparkling lights of the ball and the heavy jewellery, even in the simple pale morning sunlight, you were still the most beautiful creature he had ever laid eyes on. 

"Thank you for coming," you said to them both in your soft, lilting voice. Your smile- the beautiful one that Soonyoung noticed still did not quite reach your sad eyes- made him almost forget to greet you with the proper decorum. 

"Your Grace," he choked out quickly, bowing his head. 

The Viscount glanced between the two of you with an amused smile. "Well, far be it from me to intrude upon your conversation any longer than necessary. I have brought a book that I am quite keen to read. I will employ myself accordingly. I only ask that if your conversation takes too long, I might be served some tea."

"I have sent for some tea already," you promised the Viscount, who retreated to the far corner of the room. He made a show of seating himself as far away as possible, facing in the opposite direction from you both and burying his head in his book. 

You turned to Soonyoung. 

"Mr. Kwon; please, have a seat."

Soonyoung walked with shaky legs towards the small table near the window. There were two ornate chairs on either side-  he sat across from you and took a deep breath. His hands felt clammy. 

"Thank you for coming," you repeated to him softly. Your hands were folded politely on your lap. "I must apologise for not approaching you directly on this matter, Mr. Kwon. Considering how brief our acquaintance has been, I thought that if you were not inclined to matrimony or wished to reject my proposition,  you may  have been more comfortable expressing your response to Viscount Hong. I am very glad you asked to meet me.”

Soonyoung stared up at you with wide eyes. 

“That is… very considerate of you, Your Grace,” he said politely. The mere thought of hearing your proposal directly from you instead of from Viscount Hong made his palms sweat. Soonyong was certain that his current position was far preferable. 

You smiled at him gently. “You must be… surprised.” 

“I will not pretend that I anticipated any of this.” 

“Allow me to explain,” you began carefully. “I am sure the Viscount has given you an indication of my situation. I lost my father- the late Duke, a few months ago and have inherited his title. I have no surviving family and the reception from the ton and other titled noblemen to inheritance of the lands and title has not been… entirely positive,” you explained. Soonyoung watched you, captivated. You spoke calmly, and a faint strain in your voice towards the end of your sentence was the only indication of any loss of composure. 

Soonyoung cleared his throat. “I-I am sorry to hear that.” 

“Thank you,” you replied simply. “While I am relieved that my family’s legacy is not lost, I must admit that the role of a Duchess is not one which was designed to be played by a lady alone, particularly not an unmarried one. In addition to the friction from the other noblemen, my position makes it difficult for me to do justice to my duchy. It is also important that I secure the future lineage of my family so that my father’s efforts are not in vain. I am explaining these things to you, Mr. Kwon, so that you are better able to understand my reasons for needing to marry soon.” 

Soonyoung nodded. “Yes-yes, of course, Your Grace, I understand.” 

A servant entered the room with some tea and biscuits. You paused and waited for her to pour you each a cup, and directed the servant to send one over to Viscount Hong in the corner of the room. Then you turned back to Soonyoung and watched him put two sugars in his cup. 

“I see you have a sweet tooth,” you remarked with a small smile. 

Soonyoung’s ears turned pink and he froze halfway through stirring his tea. “I-I, erm. Yes, yes, I am partial to a little more sugar than most,” he admitted self-consciously. “I apologise. I should perhaps try not to consume so much of it…” 

Your expression was gentle as you looked up at him. “I do not think a habit of excessively sweetening one’s tea is the worst vice a gentleman can have, Mr. Kwon. Viscount Hong speaks very highly of you.” 

Soonyoung’s ears reddened further and he coughed. “I-I did not realise you spoke to Viscount Hong about me, Your Grace.” 

Your eyes dropped down to your tea and Soonyoung saw a flash of that familiar sadness in them for a moment before you spoke. “I have been finding it… difficult to trust people of late. Some of my father’s closest allies signed a petition to have my title revoked. Others have made underhanded attempts to orchestrate a match with their sons and usurp my duchy. Viscount Hong is the only nobleman I can still trust. That is why I sought his aid to find a suitable husband. I considered his judgement to be more impartial and reliable than anyone else I knew.” 

Soonyoung nodded in understanding. It was becoming increasingly clear to him now- this was a very delicate situation that extended beyond frivolous gossip and societal opinions. This was about politics and land and power. The Viscount had been doing you a favour by being vague  at the ball a few nights ago. It would not be appropriate for the entire ton to know that the Duchess of Graham had turned down most of the offers made to her by noblemen and was seeking a husband elsewhere. 

Soonyoung bit your lip. “I am sorry that you are in this position, Your Grace,” he said carefully. “But I must commend you for placing your faith in Viscount Hong. I doubt I could name anyone with more integrity or honesty than the Viscount.” 

You bit back a smile. “I am glad you think so. Because the Viscount led me to you.” 

Soonyoung cleared his throat. “Yes. Yes, he led me to you. I…” 

You set your tea down and took a deep breath before lifting your eyes to meet Soonyoung. He was stunned into silence by the power of their gaze. There was a deep, deep sadness in your eyes but he also saw strength and gentleness. 

“I apologise for putting you in this situation,” you told him honestly. There was a hint of regret in your soft words. “This is hardly the most romantic way in which to propose marriage and I am sure it cannot be flattering to you to be put in this position. I assure you, Mr. Kwon, I will not blame you if you cannot find it in yourself to enter into this… marriage of convenience.” 

There was a long silence. 

It only occurred to Soonyoung much later that there were other things he should have carefully considered about the match- the possibility of gaining a fortune, a title, and lands, of going from a penniless second son to a Duke in one move. There were so many reasons to accept your proposal. None of the other gentlemen of the ton (least of all Mr, Kim and Mr. Lee) would believe Soonyoung when he said that none of those things had been on his mind at that moment. 

Instead, he had only one thought on his mind. 

You needed help. And while Soonyoung could not pretend that he fully understood you (there was still so much hidden behind that beautiful smile and deep eyes of yours), there was one thing that he was fairly confident about. 

He wanted to be the one to help you. 

“It would be an honour, Your Grace,” Soonyoung said slowly and carefully, “to be your husband.” 

-----------------------------------------------------------

Soonyoung felt like he was in a dream as he exited your manor that afternoon with Viscount Hong. His mind and body seemed to be  floating in the clouds, and it was difficult to concentrate on what the Viscount was saying to him. 

“... cannot tell anybody about the engagement, yet, you understand, not until the Queen has granted her approval for the marriage. Perhaps in two days the announcement can be made in the papers. I assume the Duchess will handle making an appointment with the Queen, but-” 

Soonyoung was suddenly and violently jerked out of his reverie. 

“Sorry- did you just say the Queen?” he demanded. 

Viscount Hong gestured for the carriage driver to begin and then turned back to his companion. “Yes, the Queen. The Duchess is one of the Queen’s ladies-in-waiting. She is part of her court. Naturally you will both need to approach the Queen for her blessing before you can announce the engagement publicly. You risk offending Her Majesty if you do not approach her before a public announcement.” 

Soonyoung swallowed. He suddenly felt faint. “Yes, but surely the Duchess will handle that…” 

“The Queen will naturally want to see you in order to grant you her blessing to the couple.” 

“O-oh.” 

Viscount Hong bit his lip as he looked at the startled young man sitting across from him in the carriage. He took a deep breath and sighed. “Soonyoung.” 

“Yes?” 

“Have you fully thought about this? Really thought about it? Being a Duke is not easy and there is an incredible amount of responsibility involved. The Duchess is entangled in the middle of a political tussle and I am sorry to say that she is on the weaker side. She needs someone who can be strong and support her through this ordeal. I know you are capable of doing so, I would not have recommended you otherwise. But I need you to step up to the task. The Duchess needs you to step up to the task.” 

Soonyoung looked up at the Viscount sharply. There was a newfound determination in his eyes. 

“I will do whatever is necessary,” he said firmly. 

The Viscount relaxed. “Good. I will let you know once an appointment has been made to meet the Queen.” 

—--------------------------------------------------------------------------

Mr. Lee Seokmin was quite drunk. 

“I cannot go to the navy alone!” he cried, his glass of whisky sloshing all over the expensive carpet. Fortunately for Seokmin, Mingyu was far too entertained by the scene before him to be concerned by the damage Seokmin was doing to his drawing room rug. “We were supposed to go together! We were going to capture pirates together, Soonyoung!” 

Mr. Lee Jihoon raised an eyebrow at his younger brother. “It is quite unlikely that you would both have been stationed on the same ship.” 

Seokmin paused. “We could have met at the naval base.” 

“Yes, because the royal naval base is simply full of pirates ripe for your picking.” 

Soonyoung was currently on his fourth glass of whisky and Kim Mingyu’s drawing room was beginning to appear hazy to his intoxicated gaze. The gentleman’s club was the preferred haunt for the group of bachelors gathered, but it was too public for the present celebration. Since the announcement would not be made in the papers for a few days, it was important to keep the news of Soonyoung’s engagement under wraps. They had gathered in Mingyu’s drawing room instead. 

Jihoon, the most sober gentleman in the room by far, leaned closer to Soonyoung. 

“Seokmin is merely inebriated,” Jihoon told him gently, misreading the worried expression on his friend’s face. “I hope you do not blame yourself for destroying his dreams of capturing pirates- my sister and I would never have consented to him joining the Navy in any case.” 

Soonyoung blinked. “Oh.” 

“Congratulations on your engagement, Soonyoung.” 

“Thank you.” 

Someone passed Soonyoung a cigar and he lifted it to his lips, taking a deep drag before leaning his head back against the armchair. He did not smoke often- he did not even drink often but the consequences and ramifications of the decision he had made earlier today were rapidly descending upon him. In order to distract himself from the sinking thought that he had perhaps made a rash decision that would impact the rest of his life and your life, he allowed Jihoon to refill his glass. 

“I would like to raise a toast,” Mingyu announced loudly, rising to his feet and lifting his glass. “To Kwon Soonyoung, the man who refused to chase the dowry so the dowry came chasing him!” 

Everyone chuckled. Soonyoung clumsily tossed back the whisky. He was beginning to feel nauseous. 

“For heaven's sake, that painting is an eyesore,” Jihoon complained loudly as he gestured to one of the obnoxiously large paintings of a tastefully nude woman that Mingyu had displayed above the fireplace. “Is there nowhere else to hang that? What do you do when there are ladies present?” 

Mingyu chuckled. “Do not fret, Mr. Lee, I will be shifting that painting to my art gallery once it is opened. As for the ladies, I entertain them in the breakfast parlour. It has paintings of kittens.” 

Jihoon was still unimpressed. “I pity the women you court.” 

“May I remind you that you are the one who cannot seem to stop staring at the painting?”

“You little-”

“I need some fresh air,” Soonyoung announced. He was barely audible over the sound of Mingyu and Jihoon debating the inappropriateness of nude paintings in a drawing room. Setting his glass down and finding his unsteady legs, Soonyoung walked towards one of the large balconies and stepped out into the night air. The cool summer breeze swept through his hair. He leaned against the railing for a few minutes- eyes closed, and thinking about the whirlwind of events that had led to him being engaged to a Duchess in a few days. 

“Soonyoung?” 

Seokmin had followed him onto the balcony. The younger Lee rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly as he joined Soonyoung near the balcony railing. 

“Seokmin.” 

“Jihoon thought I might be upsetting you by going on about the Navy. You know that I don’t actually resent you for backing out? I was merely joking. You’re about to be married, I couldn’t be happier for you,” Seokmin said honestly. He had a smile on his face. “You’re about to become a Duke.” 

Soonyoung swallowed. “A Duke. Yes.”

“Why do you look worried?” 

“Because I am worried,” Soonyoung confessed. His knuckles were white as he clasped the railing of the balcony and the words spilled out of his mouth rapidly. “The Viscount is right. I don’t have the faintest idea what the responsibilities of a Duke are. Having a title like that and a duchy is no joke, it is about politics; something I have no knowledge of. It is not merely my own life on the line. Everything I say and do will impact the Duchess. She is… she is not merely asking to marry me, she is trusting me with her property and family legacy and reputation. I-I don’t know if I am capable of this.” 

Seokmin stared at his friend for a long moment. 

“Soonyoung. You underestimate yourself.” 

Soonyoung bit his lip, hard. “Do I?” 

“Do you know what any other young man in your position would do?” Seokmin asked knowingly. “He would celebrate that some woman had handed him a fortune and a title on a golden platter. The fact that you are seriously considering the responsibilities involved with the dukedom proves that the Duchess was not wrong to choose you.” 

“I don’t know why she chose me,” Soonyoung admitted with a sigh.  

“Did you not ask her?” 

“I should have asked, perhaps- it just… I did not get the opportunity and she called it a marriage of convenience, so clearly the answer cannot have been anything very flattering,” Soonyoung mumbled. He took a deep breath and looked up at the moonlight sky. “I wish I could celebrate with you, but all I can think of is how I am suddenly deeply terrified of disappointing the young lady that has misplaced her trust in me.” 

“Soonyoung,” Seokmin said firmly. He placed a hand on his friend’s shoulder. “You are overthinking this.” 

“Do you really think so?” 

“You were prepared to go out into the open sea and fight pirates and enemy ships. I never once saw you show fear at the thought of joining the Navy. Why do you suddenly think you will not be able to handle the simple task of being a good husband?” 

Soonyoung sighed. “I trained to be a sailor. I attended the Royal Naval Academy for years. Nobody has ever prepared me to be a Duke, Seokmin.” 

“Then start preparing now. It is not too late.” 

Soonyoung took a deep breath. Yes, Seokmin was right, He did not need to blindly blunder into this situation. He could prepare. He would prepare and would  prove to you that you had not made a mistake by choosing him.

Kwon Soonyoung would learn to become a Duke. 

—----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Soonyoung fidgeted in his brand new coat as he waited for your carriage to arrive. The coat was not uncomfortable in the least. On the contrary, it was perfectly tailored to fit Soonyoung, as opposed to the hastily mended hand-me-downs from his brother that he often wore. The Viscountess Hong was an angel; upon hearing of Soonyoung's engagement, she had promptly sent for a tailor to customise a new suit for Soonyoung to wear to his meeting with the Queen. 

His meeting with the Queen. 

A phrase that Soonyoung had never imagined he would say with any seriousness, and yet here he was. Standing near the entrance of the royal palace and waiting for the Duchess of Graham to meet him for a private audience with the Queen.

Your carriage approached and Soonyoung took a deep breath as he hurried forward. The footman was mildly surprised when Soonyoung stepped up to the carriage door himself and offered you a hand to help you descend. 

You gave him one of your soft smiles and accepted his hand. 

“Thank you, Mr. Kwon,” you told him. Your deep eyes glanced at him in an almost approving manner. “Is that a new suit? You look very handsome.” 

Soonyoung could not prevent his ears from turning red at the compliment and he struggled with what to say in return. You looked radiant in a beautiful green dress that emphasised your glowing skin, and he opened his mouth to return the compliment… but nothing seemed sufficient to encapsulate how beautiful he thought you were. He waited too long; the moment passed. 

“The Queen was pleased to grant us an audience even at such short notice,” you informed Soonyoung in a hushed tone as you both entered the royal palace and followed a pair of servants to the audience chambers. Soonyoung tried to focus on your words and not on the gentle pressure of your hand resting near the crook of his elbow. “I am sure she will be perfectly pleased to grant us her permission to marry, but I must warn you- Her Majesty is under the impression that this is a love match.” 

Soonyoung cleared his throat nervously. “A love match?” 

You blinked  up at him apologetically. “I have already rejected offers from the sons of a few other Dukes that attempted to have my title revoked. The politics here are complicated; I found the easiest way to justify marrying someone outside of the commonly expected options, was to tell the Queen I was in love.” 

“I see,” Soonyoung swallowed. “In love-yes, yes, I suppose we may say that.” 

You seemed worried. “I apologise if this is sudden-” 

“Not at all, Your Grace,” Soonyoung told you firmly. He took a deep breath and straightened his shoulders. This was his first test and he was not about to let himself be thrown by a small change in circumstances. He could handle this. He would not disappoint you. “It is not an issue at all. I will be sure to confirm the Queen’s understanding that this is a love match.” 

You seemed relieved. “Thank you, Mr. Kwon.” 

You both arrived at the audience chambers and waited in the hallway for a few moments until the Queen was ready to see you. Soonyoung’s heart was beating at an unnatural rate and he resisted the urge to fidget with his sleeves and cough. Your gloved hand resting lightly near his elbow somehow worked to keep him grounded. He focused on your gentle touch and kept his composure as the doors to the audience chamber opened and a guard came out. 

“Her Highness has granted you an audience. Please enter.” 

The Queen was seated at the head of the room. Soonyoung did not dare lift his head to look her in the eye. He did not even dare to look properly around the audience chamber for fear that the grandness and magnificence of the royal palace would cause him to lose composure. He simply allowed your gentle hand to guide him where he needed to go and followed you into a deep bow before the Queen. 

“Ah, the Duchess of Graham,” the Queen greeted you loftily. “I must say that I was pleasantly surprised when you requested an audience, The word among the ton is that you have rejected so many eligible suitors that I had quite despaired of your ever marrying. I am relieved to see that is not the case.” 

You responded quickly- your voice was soft and deferential. “Your Majesty. You have bestowed my family with the most precious gift of all by allowing my lineage to continue to hold the dukedom. We are forever indebted to you for your kindness and naturally, the decision of who should be the next Duke of Graham was not one that I could take lightly.” 

This seemed to please the Queen. 

“And you have finally made your choice? Mr. Kwon, I hear?” 

Soonyoung bowed his head. "Yes, your Majesty."

The Queen observed him slowly and critically. "You are a handsome young man; I can certainly see why the Duchess prefers you. But the question remains- can you be a Duke?"

Soonyoung swallowed. "I will do my best, your Majesty."

The Queen huffed. "I suppose that is all one can ask for, really- my dear Duchess, have you quite set your heart on this man?"

You bowed. "Yes, Your Majesty."

"Then far be it from me to stand in the way of your love. You have my blessing. You may marry- and Mr. Kwon may be granted the title of a Duke," the Queen said dismissively.

"Thank you, Your Majesty-"

"Yes, yes. Be on your way and prepare for your wedding. And my dear Duchess- now that you shall have a husband to handle the matters of your estate, I expect you to attend to the royal court far more often. You will need to join me and the other court ladies for tea at least once a fortnight."

"Of course, Your Majesty."

Your grasp on Soonyoung's arm relaxed noticeably and Soonyoung was relieved when you began to leave the room and he could follow you. The moment you both left the audience chambers, he released the breath he had been holding and looked up at you with a sheepish smile. 

"That was… not as difficult as I expected," he admitted with a grin. 

You smiled back at him softly. "Did you think it was going to be difficult? I did tell you that Her Majesty would be pleased to grant her permission."

Soonyoung flushed. "Yes, but- I mean… I have never met the Queen, so…"

"Of course. I can understand. I thought, perhaps we should discuss, before we part… when we might have the wedding?" you began. There was a sudden shyness in your gaze that Soonyoung was surprised to note. 

He blinked. "Whenever you see fit, Your Grace."

"Our engagement will be announced in the papers tomorrow," you told him as you both walked back to your carriage. "Since we have the Queen's permission to marry, I do not believe a lengthy betrothal is necessary. Unless you had any objection- perhaps next Monday?"

Soonyoung froze in his path. "For the wedding?"

You noticed his hesitancy. "Was there any reason you wished to wait longer?"

Soonyoung opened his mouth to speak. It was all happening so quickly. He almost wanted more time to prepare, to comprehend the life he was getting into. But he saw the anxiety in your eyes. You wanted to be married soon and he could understand- the pressures you were facing were not light. 

It was not the time for Soonyoung to be selfish. 

"No. No, next Monday is perfect, Your Grace," Soonyoung said quickly. Your carriage was waiting outside the palace and your footman rushed to open the door for you. 

"Then I will have the arrangements made," you told him gently. 

"E-excellent."

Soonyoung held out his hand to help you into the carriage but he was interrupted by your butler, who suddenly approached with an armful of books. "Mr. Kwon!" the butler greeted him politely. "I had these brought over from the Graham library, as per your request. Was this what you were looking for?"

You paused and frowned at the books. "What are these?"

Soonyoung's ears turned pink. He had expected the butler to give them to him privately- not in front of you. He took the books and smiled at you awkwardly. 

"I-I realised that I knew very little about the Graham duchy so I asked your butler if he could find some books that would teach me about your family lineage and the history of your lands," Soonyoung admitted shyly. He noticed the shock in your deep eyes which slowly melted into something much, much softer and affectionate as your eyes dropped to the heavy genealogy book at the top of the pile. 

"Mr. Kwon…" you said softly. "You really don't need to do that."

Soonyoung cleared his throat. "I would like to."

You stared at him for a long moment. Soonyoung felt almost exposed under your lingering gaze. He could not read what was behind your piercing eyes and he was about to apologise for overstepping when you finally spoke again, a small but noticeable crack in your voice. 

“Thank you,” you said quietly. “We will see each other soon, Mr. Kwon.” 

“Of course. Goodbye, Your Grace.” 

—---------------------------------------------------------

The week before the wedding went by in a flash. The announcement of the Duchess of Graham's engagement in the papers had predictably thrown the entire ton into an uproar. Kwon Soonyoung went from being an obscure, little-known gentleman to the name on everyone's lips in the span of a single morning. 

He was overwhelmed with invitations; to tea at the Baron's house, to dine with the Carter family and many more. It seemed that every single noble family suddenly wished to make Soonyoung's acquaintance and pretend that they had been very familiar with him all along. Soonyoung honestly thought that he may have gone mad if it had not been for Seokmin and Mingyu by his side. 

"This happened to my family as soon as my sister's engagement to the Viscount was published in the papers," Seokmin said as he rifled through the invitations. "The entire month was spent having dinner with different families."

Soonyoung's head was buried in a weighty tome about the genealogy of the Graham dukedom and he looked up with a sigh. "I barely have time with wedding preparations to attend half of these invitations. Not to mention the reading I hoped to do. What should I do?"

Mingyu, sitting in the corner of the room with a pipe in his mouth, chuckled. "Ignore them."

Soonyoung frowned. "What if some of them are from important families of the ton, they may take offence-"

Mingyu laughed as he took the stack of invitations from Seokmin's hands and smoothly tore them in half. "Important families? Oh my poor dear Soonyoung. I am not sure you understand what is happening to you. You are about to be a Duke. You are now the important family that everyone fears offending. You don’t need to worry about them!"

Soonyoung blinked. "Was it necessary to tear them?"

"I would tear that book in your hands as well, if I thought I could manage it. What are you doing, Mr. Kwon? These are your last few days as a bachelor- are you really going to spend them reading? Something you never even did in your short time at Oxford?"

Soonyoung bit his lip. "This book is rather dry."

"That's the spirit-"

"Do you have any books on agriculture I might borrow? The duchy consists largely of agricultural land and I was hoping to understand more about how the agrarian community pays its taxes."

Mingyu looked aghast. 

"None of that. Stop that immediately and come have a drink."

While it was difficult to get the notorious rake to discuss anything seriously, Soonyoung did manage to extract some advice from Mingyu on managing an estate once he was sufficiently drunk, and Seokmin was a welcome presence that served to keep Soonyoung's spirits high. 

The day of the wedding finally arrived. It was a smaller celebration than customary for a Duke's wedding and there were many members of the ton that openly lamented not receiving an invitation. Despite the short guest list, Soonyoung was still anxious as he stood up at the altar and stared at the sea of people watching from the pews. 

"I still don't understand how you seduced the Duchess," Soonyoung's elder brother grumbled from behind him as he adjusted his cuffs. It had taken no small effort to keep the elder Kwon sober and presentable for the wedding; Soonyoung would forever owe Jihoon a debt of gratitude for undertaking that unpleasant responsibility and executing it without complaint. 

But he did not have the opportunity to respond to his brother. You suddenly appeared at the end of the aisle and Soonyoung felt as though the entire room had fallen away and you were the only person standing before him. 

You looked exquisite, in a simple white dress and with a gentle smile on your face. Soonyoung watched, almost in a trance, as you walked gracefully down the aisle in a slow, practised gait. You looked divine and Soonyoung was suddenly reminded of how in over his head he felt, how he was marrying a woman so far, far above his station that this had to be some sort of a dream or joke, it could not possibly be real that you were about to become his wife. 

You reached the altar and looked up at him quietly through your eyelashes with a small smile. 

Soonyoung's heart pounded as you both turned to face the minister. The man read out some pre-written drivel about holy matrimony and Soonyoung tried to concentrate but all he could focus on was the sound of your soft breathing beside him and his own pounding heartbeat. He barely remembered saying his own vows.

"Mr. Kwon," you said softly. "The ring."

Your voice snapped Soonyoung out of his reverie. Somebody was presenting him with a ring and he swallowed nervously before reaching for it. It was a delicate little thing; Soonyoung fumbled with the ring for a moment, but to his relief it did not fall from his grasp. He reached for your hand- your soft, gentle hand- and placed the ring on your finger. 

It was done. 

You were married. 

The rest of the morning felt like a blur. Soonyoung received congratulations from dozens of people he had never met in his entire life. He found himself thrown from conversation to conversation like a child's ball until finally your hand on his elbow tightened and you whispered softly in his ear. 

"Our carriage is waiting outside," you said. "We can leave."

"Yes, let's."

It was a number of goodbyes before Soonyoung could finally reach the carriage and help you inside. Soonyoung climbed in as well and once the door was closed behind him, he took a deep breath and looked across the carriage at you. 

"I think that went rather well, Your Grace," he said to you lightly. 

You smiled back at him. "I thought having fewer guests would make the ceremony quicker but I am afraid we were still detained much longer than expected. Would you object if we went directly to the estate for the night? It is not very far- a few hours' ride."

Soonyoung nodded. "Of course."

—----------------------------------------------------------

You fell asleep during the carriage ride to the Graham estate. Soonyoung was torn between watching the magnificent views of the countryside and the sight of your head drowsily leaning against the carriage wall as you tried to fight sleep. Soonyoung couldn't help but smile at the sight of your eyelashes repeatedly fluttering closed and then fluttering back open in protest. 

It appeared even the Duchess of Graham got sleepy during carriage rides. 

It was late evening when you both arrived at the Graham estate and although Soonyoung was now much more prepared than before, he was still struck with awe at the sheer size and grandeur of the estate. There were vast gardens at the entrance and the manor itself loomed over the carriage. He could hear the sound of a creek nearby. 

"Welcome to the Graham manor, Your Grace," you told him. 

Soonyoung descended the carriage slowly, taking it all in. Was this to be his home? Was he really going to live here? Did all this really belong to him now? 

"I am afraid we don't have enough time for a tour of the estate this evening," you told him as the servants hurried to open the front doors for you. "I sent word ahead to have supper ready. Perhaps tomorrow, I can show you around the manor and the gardens?"

Soonyoung swallowed and nodded silently. 

"Shall we dine?"

"Y-yes."

The dining room was magnificent and there was a lavish spread for supper. Soonyoung decided that he was too far gone to exhibit any shame; he had not eaten all day due to the anxiety from the wedding, and was in no position to refuse the delicacies served at the table. Even the knowledge that you were watching him eat quietly with a small smile on your face did not deter him from filling his cheeks with food. 

"Mr. Jones, will you show the Duke upstairs?" you asked once supper had been cleared away. Soonyoung was surprised when one of the butlers quickly ushered him upstairs through various lengthy hallways and foyers to an enormous bedchamber before he could ask any further questions. 

A warm bath had been prepared for him in an adjoining bathroom and Soonyoung was surprised to see that all his belongings had already been brought and neatly unpacked in the bedchamber. He undressed and relaxed in the bath for a few moments before the fog from the excellent supper cleared from his mind and he remembered. 

This was his wedding night. 

You would have to consummate the marriage. 

Soonyoung jerked upright and the water sloshed out of the side of his bath. He finished the bath quickly and dressed in a fresh night-suit that had been placed on the bed for him. Then he paced the room and regretted not asking someone about this sooner. 

How did this work? Would you come to him? Did he go to you- but no, the manor was enormous and he did not have the slightest idea where you had gone after dinner. He could not wander the hallways searching for your. Should he ask a servant? The sheer mortification from the thought of doing so made Soonyoung shiver. 

Would you even want to consummate the marriage? You had said in your own words that this was a marriage of convenience and not a love match. But even marriages of convenience were consummated! You had mentioned carrying on the lineage and to have children it would be necessary to consummate, so surely it would be done? 

But perhaps you did not intend to do it tonight. You had fallen asleep in the carriage and you were probably tired from the journey. Perhaps the assumption was that you would consummate at a later time? 

There was a soft knock on the door to the bedchamber. 

"Come in!" Soonyoung called. 

You peeked your head around the door and Soonyoung jumped to his feet. "Your Grace!"he greeted you. 

"May I come in?"

"O-of course!"

You entered the bedchamber slowly; you were wearing a soft satin nightgown that revealed your silhouette and Soonyoung felt his blood rush to all the wrong places. Your cheeks were flushed and you were biting your soft lips nervously. 

Soonyoung took a deep breath. 

Well. It appeared that this would be happening tonight after all. 

"I thought- we never got a chance to taste our own wedding cake, so I had them bring a few slices back for us," you explained softly. Soonyoung  noticed that there was a covered tray in your hands. He rushed forward to take it from you, and placed it on the bedside table. 

"Our wedding cake?" Soonyoung repeated anxiously. 

You nodded and lifted the cover off the tray. There were two small slices of a pink strawberry cake covered in white frosting on the tray, as well as a bottle of wine and a pair of wine glasses. Soonyoung stared at the tray and then looked back at you. 

"Oh," he said. "Cake. I see."

"The wine was a gift from Viscountess Hong," you continued to explain. Your voice was growing quieter, and Soonyoung noticed that you looked rather flushed. "She thought it might.. help. I must admit that I already had a glass earlier. But perhaps we could share another one?"

That explained why you looked flushed and the way your deep eyes boldly darted up to his and then turned away shyly. Soonyoung took a deep breath to calm himself and sat on the bed.

"Wine and cake," Soonyoung said with a smile. "Two of my favourite things."

"I thought you would regret missing the wedding cake. It's strawberry- made from fresh berries from the strawberry fields on the estate and the cook says she improved the recipe since the ball," you said. You were speaking more quickly than you normally did and Soonyoung noticed the slight tremble in your hand as you poured out two glasses of wine.

"Have you already tasted the cake as well?"

You shook your head. 

Soonyoung was not sure where his sudden burst of confidence came from. He certainly never imagined that he would ever have the strength to make a move on any woman, much less a Duchess. But you were nervous. He could see it in your anxious eyes, in the soft lips that you kept biting, and the way your hands trembled slightly as you grasped your wine glass. 

He took a small piece of cake on the spoon and held it out to you. 

"Taste it first."

You stared at him for a long moment before leaning forward and taking the bite that he offered. You swallowed it and nodded. 

"I think it's rather well made," you said softly. 

Soonyoung chuckled- he had no doubt that it was well-made, it even smelled delicious. He took a huge bite out of the cake and delighted in the sweet strawberry taste that exploded in his mouth. 

"That," he said firmly, "is the most delicious strawberry cake I have ever tasted."

You giggled. "Soonyoung, the cream is all over your face. Here…"

You leaned closer to him and used a napkin to wipe away the cream that had stuck to the corner of his lips. Soonyoung was suddenly flooded with your scent; the familiar fragrance of lilacs and an intoxicating scent that was you, so uniquely you. His dark eyes darted up and met your heavy, lidded gaze. 

You kissed him first. 

It was not a surprise- Soonyoung had been leaning forward but your lips found him much sooner than he expected, and he had to grasp the edge of the bed to steady himself. You were clumsy in your movements- perhaps it was the wine- and Soonyoung soon found himself wrapping his arms around you to steady you both in a deep, passionate kiss. Soonyoung's fingers grasped fistfuls of your satin nightgown and pulled you closer to him. 

You gasped when his lips met your neck. Soonyoung was gentle but his touch was firm and your warm bodies melted together as you both explored each other with your hands and lips. Your hands grasped fistfuls of Soonyoung's dark hair, and you let out a squeal when Soonyoung grasped your waist tightly and turned so that you were lying underneath him on the bed. 

He looked down at you for a moment. Your hair splayed out on the pillow and your lidded eyes looked up at him nervously. He could see the excitement and the anticipation, but also a hint of fear in your eyes. 

"Soonyoung…" you whispered his name hesitantly. "I… I've never…."

Soonyoung decided that he would never give you a reason to look at him with fear again. He leaned down and pressed a soft, gentle kiss to your lips and waited until he felt you relax against his lips. 

"Tell me if it hurts," he whispered gently, "and we can stop."

You looked up at him and nodded. 

"A-allright."

—-------------------------------------------------------

[sky-kiss]

Dad!Phael: Dog Days

A/N: I'm committing a dark and terrible sin. But I had a mighty need. Kids name is Orin because...my Durge has issues. I dunno. Have some horrible trash.

___________________

Raphael: When You Create a Mini You, But You Kinda Suck

___________________

The little terror will not stop hounding him.

Raphael massages his temple, his right hand still folded over his belly. His daughter stands before his desk, hands folded neatly at the small of her back. In a rare twist of fate, she is the very picture of courtly etiquette. The shouts echoing down the halls have made it clear that this is no happenstance occurrence: the princess, unflappable and secure in the deference afforded her position, had harassed her mother's maidservants until they'd relented. Her dark hair is neatly braided, tied with strands of precious metal. Her dress is polite and clean. She is perfectly still. 

A lie. A very convincing lie, but Raphael is not in the habit of indulging naughty children. The cambion leans back in his seat. "You've brought me a proposal, I see?" 

"Yes." Little Orin holds her head high, delicate and lovely, well-spoken, as any of his spawn ought to be. She is nearly five, and while he is delighted to be free of her nonsensical chattering, eloquence has brought a new slew of problems. Namely, understanding. He can understand her. And she is never silent. 

He hums, flicking his attention to the neatly stacked sheets of paper on his deck. "These here?" 

"Yes, father." His heir shifts. She wants to rock back on her heels so badly. The stillness drives her mad. "For you to…" Orin frowns, brow furrowing as she searches for the word. The devil will not help her. She scowls, grasping for something near enough to express her meaning, "Look."

Another hum. The archdevil plucks the topmost piece of her manuscript from the pile. Raphael thumbs the entirety of her little manifesto across the desk. The crux of each remains unchanged—artwork (childish and borderline unrecognizable) accompanied by a stretch of mangled penmanship. 

He didn't need to look at it. The little beast has made her desire entirely plain. 

The debtors do not interest her. She is too young to frequent the dungeons. 

She desires a pet to accompany her through the House. More precisely, she wants a hound. Raphael purses his lips, eyeing her artwork again. It resembles a hound in the loosest sense.

"My dear…"

Her face screws up in irritation. Orin opens her mouth to speak, only to snap it shut. He watches her wrestle herself under control. She inhales through her nose, stiffening. "But…" she nods towards the papers. "Wrote it. Mother said…"

"Ah, yes. Your mother." Raphael stands, moving around the desk and crossing to his heir. A lovely little thing, eyes bright and wide and hopeful. He remains the center of her world, the fixed point where she hangs all her dreams. He holds the proposal out to her. "Do it again. More effort this time." He hears the duchess's voice in his head: five. She's five, Raphael. He shunts her advice to the back of his awareness, kneeling in front of the girl. "Convince me, dear one. Now, begone with you." 

She snatches the papers back. To her credit, she maintains her composure until she's past the boudoir's threshold. After that, Raphael hears her grumbling (loudly) to herself. Good girl.

_________

He rejects the second proposal. 

And the third. 

The fourth is passable, but the girl looks so positively self-righteous, so purely livid, that he sends her away on principle. On the fifth attempt, Orin sends her mother. 

He's delighted by the underhandedness and the cunning. He is less enthused by his consort's sudden appearance and temper. 

On the seventh attempt, he accepts his daughter's petition. 

___________

He summons the kennel master the following day, intent on selecting a pup from the litter—a dignified creature suited to her more delicate frame. The Archduke of Avernus weaves through the little creatures and watches them tumble and scrap among themselves. 

Some have the makings of great hunters. The hound master has brought one bitch from Mephistopheles' stock, already twice the size of the average pup. He suspects (though he cannot confirm) that one of the unlittered pups has Nessian stock somewhere in its bloodline, darker than the average hound. The two hounds bully their way through their smaller kin, not a hint of grace in their forms, brutish and lacking refinement. 

They do not interest him. Raphael's attention flicks to a little bitch near the edge of the commotion. She remains seated throughout it all, fur midnight dark, head held high. She holds his gaze, unflinching—an elegant creature of immaculate breeding. She will be Leonine. His huntress! Well-suited for the little princess! 

Orin inhales sharply. She is here at her mother's behest, sworn to act on her most courtly manners. The she-devil nearly vibrates out of her skin. Her attention is fixed on the massive brutes. Orin looks up at him with desperate eyes. "Father…"

And the kennel master must know because he clucks his tongue and applauds the 'little lady.' Raphael feels a dawning horror settle over him like a shroud as the fiend scoops the largest pup from the group. He deposits him at the princess' feet. 

No, he will not have one of Mephistopheles' experiments roaming his halls. He will not.

"No." The archdevil holds his head high, setting a hand on his prodigy's shoulder. Muscles flex beneath his touch. Orin doesn't move towards the pup, but she does curl her fingers in an invitation, grinning when it presses its head into her palm. Her expression drips with savage vindication. Raphael blames her mother. "The little one. The female, there. She is more suited." 

"She's so small," Orin grumbles. 

"As are you, pet."

"I want this one." She indicates the brute. It stares up at him in dumb wonderment. 

"And the little lady does have impeccable taste, Master. If I could…" Raphael fixes the fiend with a look so full of hate that it recoils, hands held up for peace. "Aye, you know your business." 

Raphael makes the mistake of kneeling. The hounds turn as one, hungry for the attention of one they instinctively recognize as Master. Orin is delighted. "Your presence here was conditional, princess. You recall this?" She nods, attention flicking between him and the hounds. "And whose word is law?" 

"Yours." 

"Yes, mine. Clever girl" 

He sees the gears in her head turning, looking for a way out. It delights and rankles. This little creature can only toddle after and adore him, but here she is already looking for a foothold in the great game. Orin purses her lips, and he sees so much of himself in the expression. Strange. She speaks slowly, positioning the massive pup between them. 

"I love him." 

"Irrelevant. Do try again." 

She rolls her eyes. And that is the duchess, irreverent, insufferable creature. "You," she indicates her sire, "Love her?" 

"I have selected her." 

"And the House is big? So why not…" she shrugs, looking down. "Both? One for Father. One of Orin. And then they won't be alone. They shouldn't be alone, papa."

Raphael frowns. The thrice damned kennel master says, "The Lil lady ain't wrong, ser. They're pack creatures." 

"I will send you to the pits if you do not keep silent, servant." He looks between the girl and the hound (now cradled in her arms). Raphael feels himself being manipulated. He pinches the bridge of his nose. "Very well." 

"What about mother?" 

He scowls, eyes narrowing. "What of her?" 

"If we both have a hound," she stares at him with her hopeful eyes, her adoration, and her damned obvious self-satisfaction. "Won't she be hurt? Left out?"

And, oh, he has created a wretched creature. His spawn smiles. 

She gets her damned hound. And the rest of the litter for good measure, damn her.