Naelira was double-checking the supplies she had packed into the dimensional pocket they would bring beyond the Mist when she heard the soft chime of the main door unlocking.
She immediately set down the Aetherscroll in her hand and hurried out of the room into the expansive living space of the penthouse.
She wore nothing but one of his long-sleeved shirts... loose, comfortable, and unmistakably his. The faint scent of him lingered in the fabric, a small comfort during his absence.
The moment she saw him walk in, her face lit up. That rare smile she reserved only for him bloomed on her lips.
He had been gone for six days... and she had missed him terribly.
Whenever he retreated to Hades, he often stayed as long as he pleased. Normally, Naelira could come and go from his pleasure chambers freely... but this time, on the second day after he said he'd "take a break," she'd gone to look for him and found his rooms empty.
She knew then where he had gone.
Where no one... not even her... could follow.
The private room inside the Monster Den.
No one had access to that place. Not her. Not his siblings. And Naelira wasn't even sure a direct summon from the Demon Lord himself would have been enough to draw him out once he sealed himself in there.
She always missed him more when he came from that room.
Because every time he emerged from that place, Tuf would distance himself from pleasure. He never let anyone touch him... not even her. No one. Not for weeks. Sometimes months.
"Welcome back, Master Tuf," Naelira greeted warmly, lifting her hands slightly to take his leather jacket, as she always did.
Tuf didn't smile. He didn't offer the jacket. He simply glanced at her, unmoved, and continued walking toward his room.
"What are you doing here?" he asked flatly, his voice void of surprise... neither at her presence nor her clothes.
Naelira's heart pinched, but she kept her voice steady. "I was preparing the things we'll need for our journey beyond the Mist," she replied.
He stopped in his tracks.
A sigh slipped from him before he turned to face her.
"I don't recall telling you I was taking you beyond the Mist," he said, his voice firm... cold, even. "Also, starting tomorrow, hand over your duties to Liorion. He'll be acting as my new secretary. You'll be taking your seat in the High Council as a Duskborn representative... beside your father and brother."
With that, he turned again and walked into his bedroom.
Naelira stood there, frozen.
She didn't understand. What had she done wrong?
Her thoughts raced... frantic, desperate... and then she moved, her body following her heart's panic before her mind could catch up. She stepped into his room, then into his walk-in closet where she found him quietly removing his outer garments.
Without thinking, she wrapped her arms around him from behind. Held him. Clung to him.
She wasn't supposed to. She knew that. But she couldn't stop herself.
"I'm sorry," Naelira whispered, her voice trembling. She hadn't realized tears had begun to fall until her words came wet and raw. "If I did something wrong, please… tell me. I'll fix it, I swear. I'll be better. Just… please let me stay by your side."
Her grip on him tightened... desperate, vulnerable, as though clinging to the last thread of something fragile and breaking.
"If it was because I didn't tell you right away about Seiryu's awakening… or because I made a decision on the Monster Release without your permission… I'm sorry," Naelira whispered, her voice cracking under the weight of unshed pain. "I won't do it again."
Tuf slowly peeled her arms away from his waist and turned to face her.
His expression shifted... his usual smug playfulness was there… but it didn't reach his eyes. The mischief was hollow. A shadow. And Naelira, who had studied his every smirk for centuries, knew this was the mask he wore before he inflicted pain.
"You didn't do anything wrong, Naelira," he said, almost gently. "You did well, in fact. You handled the situation perfectly, acted without waiting for orders, and your strategies were brilliant. Which is why I realized…"
He placed a light hand on her shoulder... an almost affectionate gesture that somehow felt like the calm before a guillotine drop.
"Your brilliance is wasted on being just my secretary. It would be better served in the High Council than here in Lightning Peak."
Then he turned, grabbed a black sleeveless shirt and lounge pants, and walked toward the bathroom.
Naelira stood frozen, the breath caught in her throat.
"Are you… discarding me?" she asked, voice small, breaking.
Tuf stopped. Glanced back at her.
"Discarding you?" he echoed, brows lifting. "I'm giving you one of the most coveted positions in the empire. A seat at the High Council... "
"I don't want it," she said, her voice cracking as fresh tears spilled.
"The Duskborn need a representative... "
"Then give it to Melory. Or someone who wants it. I don't!" Her voice rose, trembling. "I don't want the council. I don't want a title. I want to stay beside you. I was happy where I was... being your secretary. Being near you."
She couldn't stop the words now. The truth had been buried for centuries behind composed smiles and calm demeanor, but it was breaking free, piece by piece.
"I know I was just one of many women to you," she whispered, voice faltering. "But being your secretary… being here… it gave me more than they ever had. I could be near you, wear your clothes, eat beside you, talk with you. I mattered more than they did. Even if just a little."
Tuf's eyes turned cold. The mask was gone. There was no smirk left... only finality.
"My decision is final. You are no longer my secretary. You are not coming with me beyond the Mist. And you will take your seat in the Council."
His voice was low, clipped. He turned away again.
"And since you're not my secretary anymore, get your things from this penthouse. You won't be staying here."
That last line struck like a blade to the chest.
Naelira gasped softly... but the pain wasn't enough to silence her defiance.
"So… she finally ordered you to discard me," she said, her voice sharp, accusing.
Tuf froze. Turned slowly to look at her, eyes narrowing.
Naelira let out a bitter laugh through her tears. "Mistress Luna. Did she finally tell you to get rid of me?"
"What are you talking about?" Tuf's tone was low. Dangerous.
"I know about you and her," Naelira said, shaking now, fists clenched at her sides. "I've been with you for five centuries, Tuf. Do you really think I wouldn't know who you're with every time you lock yourself in that private room in the Monster Den?"
Tears rolled freely down her face.
"Every time you come back from there, I can smell her on you. I know she's not just your sister... she's your lover."
The silence that followed was sharp. Suffocating.
Tuf stared at her. His voice, when it came, was cold as ice.
"So what are you implying?" he said quietly.
He didn't shout. He didn't growl. But the murder in his obsidian gaze was unmistakable.
"Are you trying to blackmail me, Naelira?"
Only then did she realize the danger of what she'd just said.
"I… I'm not. I would never."
Her voice trembled as her tears fell freely, soaking her cheeks. Her body shook... not only from fear of him, but from something far worse.
The fear of being cast aside.
Of being forgotten.
Of being nothing.
And still, even as her legs threatened to collapse, she took a step closer to him.
Because losing Tuf… hurt more than the thought of death itself.
With shaking hands, Naelira reached for his. She lifted it to her lips and kissed his knuckles... softly, reverently.
"Forgive me… I will never forget my place again," she whispered through a breathless sob. "I'll collect my things. I won't come here anymore. Not even in the pleasure chambers. Please… just let me stay by your side."
Then, unable to stop herself, she sank to her knees before him and clung to his leg. Sobs wracked her delicate frame.
"I will do anything you want. Just tell me. And I will do it. Anything."
Tuf's eyes remained cold. His voice colder still. "I already told you what I want."
If this had been any other day, if his heart had not been so full of guilt and turmoil, he might have pulled her up gently and comforted her. He might have pretended to care. But not tonight.
He couldn't afford it tonight.
"You'll take your seat on the High Council," he said, each word like a dagger. "Stop making me repeat myself. You know how much I hate that."
He yanked his leg free from her arms with a sharp motion and seized her chin, forcing her to look up at him.
"You've grown used to pulling strings because I let you. Don't forget who the master is here, Naelira."
His grip was rough... not the passionate, playful kind she knew so well. It was harsh. Unforgiving. Meant to shatter, not tease.
"And never," he growled, "ever think of using Luna against me again. Or I will make you regret it."
His voice was low but lethal.
Then, without another word, he turned away.
He didn't finish undressing. He didn't go to the bath.
He walked out of his own penthouse.
Leaving her on the floor, crying as though someone had ripped her heart from her chest.
Naelira couldn't understand what she had done wrong. What had changed?
She had known about Luna... about their forbidden love... for centuries. And she never once acted on that knowledge. She kept her silence, her head low. She shielded their secret. Guarded it like it was her own.
She even made sure no one disturbed Tuf when he locked himself in that private chamber in the Monster Den. She took care of everything in his absence. Every problem, every crisis... she resolved it before it ever reached his ears.
She never tried to compete with Luna. How could she?
Luna was a daughter of the Demon Lord. She was powerful, beautiful, untouchable. And she was the one who held Tuf's heart... completely.
Naelira accepted that. Even when Luna's gaze turned icy toward her. Even when those rare moments came where Luna's glare made her bones freeze. She kept her eyes down. She obeyed.
Not just because Luna was royalty…
But because Luna was the one Tuf loved.
And yet, it didn't matter how loyal she had been. Not when the one holding his heart had finally spoken.