The Prince's Dance

Lucifer's expression tightened as his gaze lingered on Arthur, Rachel, and Seraphina. The trio moved in their own world, their connection so seamless it seemed to shut out the rest of the hall. A sharp pang of envy twisted in his chest, a feeling so foreign and unlike him that it made him sick.

It was always Arthur Nightingale.

Arthur didn't just bruise Lucifer's ego. He shattered it—battered it into unrecognizable pieces in every conceivable way. 

Arthur was stronger, more intelligent, and, to Lucifer's deep irritation, undeniably more charismatic. He had even managed to win the heart of Rachel, the one person Lucifer had quietly admired for years. 

The only thing Lucifer could cling to was his birthright. As the prince of the North, his lineage and status were untouchable—yet even that felt fleeting. Arthur's overwhelming talent made it inevitable that he would rise, carving out a legacy that eclipsed all others, much like the Martial King before him. 

Lucifer shook his head as the music shifted, signaling the beginning of the dances. The rich melody filled the room, yet it felt more like a taunt than an invitation.

'Who am I even supposed to dance with?' he thought bitterly. For once, the room was scarce of suitable partners his age. There were just four: Seraphina and Rachel were out of the question, their affection for Arthur making that abundantly clear. That left—

"Want to dance?" Seol-ah's voice broke through his thoughts. Her golden eyes met his verdant gaze, her expression poised but with a hint of challenge.

Lucifer hesitated briefly before nodding. "Why not?"

As he took her hand, Aria, standing nearby, folded her arms and let out an exaggerated sigh. "There really is nobody else. You're dancing with me next, Lucifer."

He gave her a curt nod as he led Seol-ah to the floor, his movements as composed as his inner turmoil was chaotic. 

Seol-ah and Aria weren't faring much better. With only Lucifer and Arthur as options, their choices were just as limited. And, as Aria dryly noted to herself, Rachel and Seraphina had made it very clear that Arthur wasn't going anywhere. 

The hall began to sway with the rhythm of the dance, but for Lucifer, it was nothing more than a way to distract himself from the gnawing resentment he couldn't quite let go.

Seol-ah and Lucifer danced in silence, their movements synchronized but devoid of any warmth or connection. Finally, Seol-ah broke the quiet.

"You're jealous," she stated, her tone as steady as her gaze, which studied Lucifer with unnerving precision.

Lucifer's eyes narrowed at her words. Seol-ah's personality always reminded him of Seraphina, though with a sharper edge and a hint of Ren's bluntness. She didn't sugarcoat anything.

His lips pressed into a thin line, refusing to dignify her observation with a response.

"It's alright," she continued, her voice calm and detached. "It's only natural to be jealous of Arthur."

Lucifer finally broke his silence. "Are you jealous too?"

"Yes," she answered without hesitation. "After all, he's destined to become the Paragon of humanity."

Paragon. 

The word struck a nerve. It was a title reserved for humanity's foremost warrior, Rank 1. Traditionally, it was bestowed upon someone who had maintained that position for a decade. The current Paragon, the Martial King Magnus Draykar, was the pinnacle of humanity—mid Radiant-rank and still holding his ground against the Vampire Monarch. A living legend.

"Have you given up?" Lucifer asked, his voice sharper than he intended.

"Do I have a choice?" Seol-ah replied, her golden eyes meeting his without a flicker of hesitation. "Back during the Inter-Academy Festival, I hadn't given up yet—not on myself, not on catching up to you three. But now? Arthur has leaped so far ahead of us it's laughable. Of course, you're still stronger than me, but the gap between you and him? It's not something we can pretend doesn't exist."

Her words hung in the air, heavy with an uncomfortable truth that neither of them wanted to fully acknowledge. Lucifer's grip on her hand tightened slightly as he spun her around, the movement sharp and precise, mirroring his inner turmoil. 

"It doesn't mean we stop trying," he said after a pause, his voice quieter now but no less resolute.

Seol-ah inclined her head slightly, her expression unreadable. "No, it doesn't. But it does mean we need to accept reality, even if we hate it."

"Accept reality?" Lucifer muttered, the words heavy in his mouth.

"You can't drown in envy, chasing after something you'll never catch," Seol-ah replied, her tone matter-of-fact. "It's good to have ideals and goals, but it's not good to let them consume you. Stay grounded—don't get lost in a delusional world."

Lucifer fell silent, her words cutting deeper than he expected. He didn't want to admit it, but she was right. They echoed the thoughts he'd harbored for a long time—thoughts about his father, who still chased after Magnus Draykar despite his strength plateauing long ago.

'I suppose I need to learn how to do that,' Lucifer thought. He needed to learn how to accept reality. The immutable truths that gnawed at his pride:

He would never have Rachel Creighton.

He would never become the Paragon.

He would never surpass Arthur Nightingale.

Because Arthur wasn't just another rival. He was the protagonist of this world, the one destined to rise above them all.

"But happiness doesn't depend on those things, does it?" Seol-ah's voice interrupted his spiraling thoughts.

"What?" Lucifer blinked, startled, as the music drew to a close.

"You don't have to reach the peak, or hold onto the person you first fell in love with, to find happiness," she said, her tone softer now. "Happiness is possible even without those things."

Lucifer studied her, her words carrying a clarity and weight he hadn't expected. Finally, he said, "You're wise."

Seol-ah's golden eyes narrowed. "And here's some wisdom for you: never call a lady old."

Before Lucifer could respond, she delivered a sharp kick to his shin, making him wince. He opened his mouth to protest, but she was already walking away, leaving him to nurse his bruised pride—and his shin—alone.

Lucifer watched Seol-ah's retreating form, absently rubbing his shin. The sting of her kick was nothing compared to the weight of her words. Around him, couples continued to dance, their movements a stark reminder of his solitude.

"Seol-ah's quite the conversationalist, isn't she?" Aria's voice cut through his contemplation. She stood a few feet away, her red hair catching the light as she tilted her head. "I saw that kick. What did you do to deserve it?"

"Called her wise," Lucifer replied dryly. "Apparently, that's an insult."

Aria's laugh was genuine, a sound that momentarily lightened the heaviness in his chest. "Oh, you poor fool. Never imply a lady's age, even in compliments. I thought princes were supposed to be better at this."

Her teasing sparked something in him - not the usual irritation, but a strange desire to prove her wrong. Without warning, Lucifer dropped to one knee, extending his hand with deliberate grace. "Then allow me to demonstrate proper etiquette. May I have the honor of this dance?"

Aria's eyebrows rose, genuine surprise flickering across her features before settling into an amused smile. "Well, aren't you the perfect gentleman?" She placed her hand in his, her touch surprisingly warm. "You may."

As Lucifer rose and drew her into the dance, the orchestra began a new melody - lighter than the previous one, with notes that seemed to chase away shadows. The tempo invited joy, demanded it even, but Lucifer's thoughts still wrestled with Seol-ah's words.

"You're doing it again," Aria observed, her voice softer than her usual sharp tone. When he met her gaze questioningly, she elaborated, "Thinking too much. I can practically hear the gears turning in that royal head of yours."

"Is that a crime?" he asked, guiding her through a turn.

"At a dance? Absolutely." She matched his steps perfectly, but her eyes held a challenge. "You know what your problem is, Lucifer? You never let yourself just... be. Everything has to have meaning, has to be measured against some grand standard."

Her words hit closer to home than he expected, echoing Seol-ah's message in their own way. "And you suggest I do what instead?"

"For starters?" Aria's eyes sparkled with mischief. "Dance with me. Not as the prince who's counting his inadequacies, but as Lucifer who, despite being absolutely insufferable sometimes, is actually quite good at this."

A reluctant chuckle escaped him. "Just quite good?"

"Don't push your luck," she warned, but her smile took the sting from her words.

As they moved across the floor, Lucifer found himself slowly releasing the tension in his shoulders. The music wrapped around them, and for a moment, he wasn't thinking about Arthur or Rachel or his position. He was simply dancing, his world narrowed to the steps, the rhythm, and Aria's surprisingly comfortable presence.

Perhaps this was what Seol-ah meant - these small moments of peace, untethered from ambition and rivalry. Not a grand, earth-shattering happiness, but something quieter, no less real for its simplicity.

And then, chaos happened.