Thank you so much @steh-lar-uh-nuhs for the wonderful ask! I had so much fun writing more dad Wrath and mum Emilia, and I'm really loving experimenting to with a slightly older Euphemia and her tone/voice. I've finally found some time and worked through some writers block, so I'll be working on some requests and writing the next part of Clandestine Affairs, which should be up this week, if all goes to plan. Amongst them, I'll upload occasional headcannons between fics, so keep an eye out for those. Let me know what you think and send me any requests you have, but be sure to check the request guidelines first. They're linked here, and on my masterlist.
TW: Anxiety, and some bullying being hinted at. Also, mild spoilers for a scene in KOTC, not a major plot spoiler but something that happened. As well as a mild spoiler about Edan if you haven't read totf.
Notes: Filia is Latin for Daughter.
Masterlist
Kingdom of the Wicked Masterlist
“Which do you prefer, your highness?”
Euphemia blinked, then met Sara’s gaze in the mirror. Behind her, her other attendants flitted about the room, grabbing shoes for her to try, and putting rejected dresses away. The only one paying any close attention to her was her head attendant, Sara, who smiled kindly at her, then gestured to the boxes on her dresser. Keeping her face carefully neutral, Euphemia glanced down at the boxes.
The first held a gold necklace, in the shape of a snake with lavender eyes. The head and tail of the snake would lay flat against her collarbone, as if a serpent coiled itself around her, staring ahead, almost menacingly. The piece was striking, truly. Using amethysts for its eyes was an unexpected, but effective choice, if it wanted to capture attention. And the resemblance it bore to the design of her father’s house dagger would surely command attention.
The second box held a thick, gothic lace choker with a thin, scalloped bead trim. This piece was a bit more understated, despite the elaborate design, but the pink diamond resting against the hollow of the throat was no less effective at drawing eyes to her.
Her chest tightened as she glanced between the two boxes in front of her, while Sara stood patiently at her side. Her gaze, gentle as it was, had her heart pounding almost painfully against her ribs, the sound slowly beginning to echo in her ear. Sweat coated her palms and her stomach twisted itself into knots so tight, Euphemia was convinced that it intended to empty its non-existent contents onto the floor.
“Well, princess?” Sara called again, trying to gently nudge her into a faster decision.
Molten gold greeted her when she snapped her attention to the mirror.
The princess barely noticed the attendants as they greeted her father, fixated on the mirror instead. Wrath leant against the doorframe, already dressed in a three piece. The jacket was black, as per usual, with a gold snake, weaving through the petals of rose gold flowers embroidered onto one of the lapels. His waistcoat was also embroidered with the same snake pattern, though without any visible roses. She glimpsed the gold snake cufflinks on his sleeves, that matched perfectly with the golden crown on his head, and the snake pin on his black cravat, tied elegantly around the collar of his black shirt.
“Well?” Wrath prompted again.
“Almost, your majesty. We’re just waiting for her to pick a necklace, before adding the finishing touches.”
Euphemia hums in agreement, forcing her eyes back down to the jewellery boxes.
She stiffened somewhat at the command in her father’s voice. The maids filed out without a single complaint, knowing better than to test the demon of war. Her father wasn’t cruel, per se. At the very least, not unnecessarily. However, was also The King of Hell, and he had a reputation to uphold. As a king, Wrath was fair, but ruthless. More so when his family was concerned.
And forced her body to relax.
“Do you have any preference, little one?”
Euphemia’s lips pursed together in a thin line, as she felt a tightness growing in her chest. Just looking at the two necklaces had her throat constricting, as if being squeezed. She squeezed her eyes shut, her loose hair bouncing, as she shook her downturned head.
“I suppose they do seem somewhat constrictive.” Wrath chuckled, then reached into his pocket. “Perhaps you’d prefer something like this?”
Euphemia’s eyes snapped up at the light clinking of the chain and pendant being dangled in front of her. The gold disk spun slowly on the chain, reflecting light from the lamps hung around. Engraved in the very center of the disk was a dagger with a snake coiled around it, framed by tiny scratch- No. She squinted, bringing the pendant closer.
H-help… Love… w-win- ward…
The princess huffed, as she struggled to translate the markings. All she could say for sure was that it was Latin, combined with magic runes, but they were all far more complex than the ones Celestia had taught her.
Just when she thought she’d been getting good at magic, she lamented to herself with a huff. Clearly, there was much more to study.
“They’re protection spells.” He explained simply.
The princess glanced up at her father, taking in the gleam in his eyes.
“Emilia worked hard, and even borrowed some books from Celestia to ensure they were as effective as possible.” Wrath grinned, then gently placed the pendant in her hand.
She cocked her head to the side as she felt its weight, and traced her thumb over the engravings. The details were clear and sharp, while the piece itself was rather dainty. Euphemia stroked her thumb over the pendant once more, before clicking it open. A little squeak escaped as her breath hitched. Her movements stuttered for a moment too, and her pink eyes burned.
Engraved in the center of the pretty pendant, clear as the evening stars, was the beginning and end of every story she’d ever fallen in love with. Every tale Emilia would use to put her to bed at night. Every piece of fatherly advice Wrath had ever given her. Of the story her Uncles had told her, time and time again, founded on longing and desire, that grew into something magic could never recreate. Not truly.
A tale of witches and spell locks.
Of curses and missing memories.
Of endurance, and sacrifice, and love.
‘When all other avenues have failed you, remember that love is the most powerful magic of all.’
Euphemia’s voice trembled, and her hands went stiff. The weight of the locket suddenly felt like a boulder in the palm of her hands. Her chest tightened to the point where she felt like it might squeeze her heart out, and her throat suddenly felt constricted again. The sensations had her eyes burning with tears that she knew would never fall. Even as she felt like she was choking. As she blinked away tears, and swallowed the lump in her throat. Even as the tightness-
And then, she could breathe.
The tightness in her chest began to loosen as well. It wasn’t noticeable, at least not at first, but with every breath she was now able to take, her limbs began to loosen up and her chest felt lighter.
“Parts of the spell help to ease anxiety,” Wrath offered. “Not fully. But, we hoped that it would make this night as pleasant as possible.”
Euphemia took another slow breath in, and paused. Some tightness remained. The pressure around her throat remained as well but it was… bearable.
“I- Thank you. I love it.” I whispered, the locket clutched in her palms.
“I’m glad. I’m sure Emilia will be too.” Wrath took a step towards her, and dropped a knee beside her vanity. His hand reached out, gently cupping her olive cheeks. “Now, do you feel better enough to share what’s got you so nervous?”
Wrath met her question with a raised brow, before she could even let it all out. So, she sighed, letting her face sag gently against his palm.
“It’s just… Do I have to go?”
He blinked, then narrowed his eyes as he watched her wring her hands and bounce her knee.
Her gaze shifted to the bottles of perfume scattered across her vanity, and locked onto the only unopened one.
Wrath gently nudged her face back to him.
“Do you… Is there a reason you don’t?” He asked carefully.
Her eyes flickered back to the vanity.
“It’s just, I don’t know if I should go,” She muses, forcing a smile as she begins to wave her arms. “I mean, I’m still young for a demon, much less a princess and we both know how debauched The Underworld is, even if it is here at House Wrath. So, maybe, you should take your own advice and let me sit this one out, since I-”
The princess stiffened at the tone, immediately falling silent. Her eyes slid back to him but the second she saw his expression, she let her shoulders slump, and brought her hands back to her lap.
Wrath’s lips twitched up at the little pout.
“Okaaay,” she sighed. “It’s just… Everyone thinks I’m weird.”
Wrath’s brows furrowed, as Euphemia turned back to the mirror.
“The only people who like me, in that ballroom, are you, mama, my uncles, my aunts, and I’m not even sure they all like me, and like, six others. Everyone else is just waiting for me to make a fool of myself. Which I know I will.”
“How do you know they dislike you?” he asked.
“How do you not? I’ve heard the whispers. The rumours. Not even aunt Adriana could silence them entirely, and from what I’ve heard, even uncle Gluttony was hesitant to try using her techniques,” She blew a stray lock of hair from her face. “Miss Val said Uncle asked her to clear his schedule for an entire week so he could dote on auntie. Partially out of adoration, and partially as a plea to convince her to never employ such methods against him.”
Then the temperature dropped.
When Wrath didn’t respond, Euphemia’s eyes fell to him. One hand was wrapped around the leg of her stool, frost creeping out from beneath his fingertips. The other gripped his pant leg, pulling the fabric so tight, she feared it might tear. His golden eyes blazed with barely restrained fury. She was sure that if he wasn’t in her room, he’d have iced the entire place by now.
“Daddy?” His eyes snapped to hers.
Slowly, wrath released his grip on both the stool and his leg, but the frost didn’t melt and the temperature didn’t rise.
“Euphemia.” His voice is far more restrained than earlier. “You are my daughter. You are Emilia’s daughter. Our filia. Remember that.”
Wrath stood, and took the necklace from her hand. He gently nudged Euphemia to face her mirror, and moved behind her.
“Filia,” he repeated, as he gently moved her hair to one side. “Do you know what happened when a member of this court chose to disrespect your mother?”
Euphemia’s eyes snapped open, immediately locked on her father’s reflection. Wrath kept his gaze down as he fiddled with the clasp on her pendant.
“They disrespected Mama?” She muttered. “But she’s a vengeance goddess! Had they lost their minds?!”
Wrath chuckled at her disbelief.
“I had even issued a warning beforehand, cautioning any demon in our court to keep your mother’s name off their tongue.” he mused.
“Then this demon was even more foolish than I thought.” his daughter huffed.
Wrath didn’t need to look up to see Euphemia’s furrowed brows.
“The demon was named Makaden and he decided, with his infinite wisdom, that he should try to get a rise out of your mother, by debasing her in public,” Wrath’s teeth flashed in the mirror. “It was clear that he hated her, and I suppose he decided that, regardless of my warning, I’d be more likely to side with a member of my own court, as opposed to a vengeance goddess, who many blamed for the incident six years prior.”
Euphemia felt him drop the clasp against her neck. He ran his calloused fingers through her silvery locks, as he pulled them back over her shoulder.
Her face pinched, and she raised her fingers to her chin. Wrath watched her curl her pointer finger into a hook, and bring it to her mouth. Her teeth gently scraped against the joint, as her brows furrowed further.
“The more you describe him, the dumber he sounds,” she mused, and Wrath smiled. He watched as she replayed his words in her head, over and over again. “Still though, to disobey the King seems to be taking it a bit far.”
“Not all people have methods behind their madness, filia,” he reminded. “In some cases, a fool is just a fool.”
Her shoulders slumped, and she nodded.
“Maybe. But,” her eyes drifted to her mirror, “why are you telling me this?”
Wrath met her gaze in the mirror, gold eyes flashing in warning.
Not to her. Never to her.
“No sooner had the vile words left his mouth, I made good on my promise by ripping out the lord’s tongue, and leaving it impaled at the table.” Euphemia giggled at the hint of pride in his tone, and the upward twitch of his lips. The sound had his gaze softening, ever so slightly. “I have no patience for senseless gossip, or impossible rumours. Especially when they concern my filia. Should any more circulate tonight, I will happily tear out the tongues, and perhaps even the throats, of all those responsible. ”
“If they’re from other houses-”
“My brothers would be in agreement with this action.”
Euphemia’s mouth fell open again, but quickly shut when she’s unable to get a sound out. She repeated this twice more, as Wrath reached for the crown on her vanity. It was dainty, with gold branches, encrusted white diamonds, winding around evenly spaced, rounded pink gems. Smaller gems were placed at the peak of each slope, like tiny flowers, propped up by diamond coated vines. Without a word, he placed it on her head, and pinned it up, careful to keep the hairpins hidden beneath the delicate, twisted braids holding half of her hair up.
“That doesn’t change the fact that I’ll be the subject of snickering and mockery all night. Even if you punish all of them, it would hardly be enjoyable, so why bother?”
He walked around the stool and gently pulled her up.
“Your uncles will all be there. Your aunts will be there. Emilia, and I will be there. Everyone you love will be there,” he assured. “You will laugh with us, dance with us, eat with us, and any snickers and mockery will be the farthest things from your mind.” He leaned forward, pressing a kiss to her temple.
“Wait, they’re all coming? Even Uncle Pride, and Aunt Lucia? And Uncle Sloth? He doesn’t even like formalities!”
“It’s your first ball. One in your honor, and yours alone, my filia. They wouldn’t dare miss it.” Wrath offered her his arm. “Your Aunt Camilla has been talking about painting the occasion for you, and even helped your mother pick all of the themes and decorations. She insisted that everything had to be set up perfectly.”
“Really,” Wrath chuckled. “My brothers and I managed to finish up all of our business, despite many setbacks, mostly from Lust and Greed, long before your mother and aunt finished planning out this party.”
A snort escaped her at the thought.
“You got through the whole meeting, with all my Uncles, before Mama and Aunt Camilla were done? How long did they take?”
“Long enough for my brothers to begin placing bets, and for Envy to decide to make himself comfortable and just stay the night.” He sighed.
Another laugh escaped her.
“Is that the night Mama tried to teach me and Aunt Camilla to make Cannolis?”
“You mean the night she taught you to destroy the kitchen and traumatise our staff.” Wrath huffed.
“We didn’t destroy it. Just redecorated.”
Before she knew it, Wrath had led her to the entry of the ballroom, where Emilia waited. Her rose gold gown glided across the tiled floors, as she ran to her husband and twelve year old.
“You’re late.” She chided Wrath with a smack to his arm, to which he just chuckled, before she turned to her daughter. “And you look absolutely radiant, my lovely.”
Emilia took in her pink ball gown. The bodice was a sweetheart, illusion neckline, with long mesh sleeves. Flowery lace spread across the bodice, sleeves, and extended down to the skirt too, with each bit of leaf and flora decorated with tiny black crystals.
As Emilia stroked her hair, and cooed over the dress, Euphemia felt her stomach begin to twist again. Even as her new pendant soothed most of her anxiety, she still felt a tightness in her chest as her mouth began to dry.
She snapped her head towards her father.
“Focus on us. On your family.” He soothed, offering her his elbow once more.
“Tonight will be wonderful, Euphy. You’ll see.” Emilia assured, taking her free hand.
With each step, the sound of music and laughter became clearer, albeit still muffled by the large doors carved from bone. Before she knew it, the only music she heard was their creaking ringing in her ears, as light shone from large chandeliers.
She barely heard the herald announce them, her chest tightening when she saw the size of the crowd. She felt several sets of eyes lock on her, some more interested in the locks of silver that flowed down her back than anything else.
“Tonight marks my daughter, Princess Euphemia’s, first-”
Wrath’s address faded into the background, as her heart began to beat wildly in her ears and her throat began to close. She felt the pendant’s magic sooth her over and over, each time her nerves began to rise, but it did nothing to block gazes seering into her. Like they were-
Her eyes darted to Emilia, who gave her hand a firm squeeze. She followed the direction her mother nudged her thumb towards, and met a pair of deep, charcoal eyes.
Uncle Lust leaned against a wall near the exit, nursing what seemed to be a glass of Demonberry wine, and beside him, Uncle Envy stood with his dark and sinful. Both demons gave her wide grins, that soothed some of the tension.
Near them, Aunt Camilla had set up an easel, stool and box of paints. Bunny seemed content rolling across the floor beside her. Her aunt met her gaze, and gestured to her lips before they spread into a wide grin. Euphemia laughed softly at the reminder, as Emilia gave another, more gentle squeeze.
Uncle Greed and Uncle Pride stood near the stairs, a group of women draping themselves all over them. But the two princes' eyes remained firmly on their niece, even as Wrath continued to speak.
Uncle Gluttony was standing beside Adriana, who was scanning the crowd and jotting things down in a journal. She noticed Edan, Adriana’s sister, as well, as scanning the crowd with Vanity, her lover, while occasionally whispering more information for Adriana to jot down.
After scanning the ballroom a couple of times, she finally noticed Uncle Sloth on one of the balconies. He held a book in one hand, and waved lazily with the other. Beside him, she noticed a small plate of snacks that had her snickering.
The sudden applause from the guests had her jumping, but the smile Wrath sent her way only brought a brighter grin to her face. As the guests began breaking off, ready to go back to enjoying the party, the weight of their stares never really left. But her chest still felt lighter, and as her family began to approach, she found that she barely noticed the stares. For now.
With a twitch of her lips, she let out a soft whisper, just enough that only those beside her could hear.
Their eyes dropped to her immediately, the approaching guest forgotten.
Euphemia turned to them both, a smile gracing her lips.
“Always, Filia.” Wrath offered.
He reached for her head, ready to ruffle her hair until she was whining petulantly for him to stop, but before he could, Emilia dropped to her knees. She pulled her daughter to her chest, holding her tightly.
“Of course, my love. This is your first ball, it’s a momentous occasion. One that you should enjoy to the fullest.”
“Hear that little devil?” Euphemia whipped her head to see Uncle Gluttony striding over, hands in his pocket. “Tonight you can gorge yourself on as many sweets as you want.”
“Let’s go before Lust absconds with them,” Gluttony gave a toothy grin, before scooping her up and disappearing into the crowd.
Over his shoulder, Euphemia could see her mother scowling at her Uncle, while her father merely chuckled at their antics. She was sure he heard him muttering something about Gluttony being the one more likely to abscond with the sugar.
“We can have all the sweets, right?” she asked sweetly.
“Then we’ll dance until the sun comes up, little devil. Tonight's a night meant for enjoyment. So indulge as much as you like.”
A bright laugh bubbled from her chest, and escaped before she could stop it.
“The best night ever!” she agreed.