My Wives are Beautiful Demons

As days went by and everyone busied themselves with their own tasks, one woman, in particular, was finally recovering fully after a long period of forced rest.

Viviane, fresh from her morning bath, sat before her vanity. With slow, deliberate motions, she began brushing her light blue hair, each strand catching the gentle light of the room. Her eyes, however, betrayed a storm of emotions.

Part of her was drowning in disappointment, a corrosive guilt tightening around her chest. She felt like a complete failure, someone who had no right to be there after that traumatic event. Every sigh that escaped her lips seemed to carry the weight of her doubts.

A cruel voice in her mind urged her to give up, to settle for being a mere shadow, a submissive follower who obeyed without question—or worse, to disappear entirely. Yet there was another side to her, shy and ashamed, clinging to the memory of something that kept her moving forward: her master's anger.

Novah had told her what had happened while she was unconscious. Her master, furious and consumed by worry, had to be physically stopped from seeking immediate vengeance on those who had caused it all. He had been so enraged, so protective... And that made her feel a sense of warmth she couldn't quite describe.

It was conflicting. One part of Viviane wanted to run to him, to throw herself into his arms, confess how much she loved him, and how much his concern meant to her. But the other part... was terrified. What if he was still angry with her? What if she was just a burden, a source of frustration?

"Master… why won't you come back already?" she murmured, her voice trembling with conflicting emotions. "I... I miss you so much..."

She buried her face in her hands, trying to stifle the blush spreading across her cheeks. The vibrant blue of her hair seemed almost dull against the heat coloring her skin. Even though she was alone, she couldn't bring herself to look into the mirror, so deep was her confusion.

Only the sound of the wind outside and the steady rhythm of her breathing filled the room, as Viviane, lost in thought and emotion, struggled to summon the courage to face not just the world, but herself.

"Could it be… no… don't overthink this," Viviane muttered to herself, interrupting her own train of thought as she resumed brushing her hair. "I'm not falling for Master Vergil just because he… cares about me, right?"

She paused, staring at her reflection in the mirror as if expecting an answer from the woman staring back at her. Her eyes betrayed the growing doubt in her mind.

"No… that's absurd," she continued, trying to convince herself. "I'm far too old for him. I mean, I'm the Lady of the Lake! A legendary entity, a symbol of wisdom and antiquity. And he…"

She sighed deeply, setting the brush down and running her hands over her face, clearly frustrated with herself. "He's a 21-year-old demon! A young man, full of ambition, energy, and… and..."

Viviane bit her lower lip, cutting off her thoughts before they spiraled any further. "It doesn't make sense… it shouldn't make sense."

She leaned forward, resting her forehead in her hands. "Then why does my heart race every time I think of him? He was just being… considerate, right? It can't be more than that. It can't..."

Her face flushed an even deeper red, and she let out an irritated huff. "Damn it, Viviane, you're the Lady of the Lake, not some lovestruck teenager! This isn't happening. It's not..."

"Well, watching you act like this is almost making me embarrassed for you, aunt."
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Viviane froze, her eyes widening at the familiar voice. Slowly, she turned her head, finding Morgana LaFey lounging on a velvet sofa, her legs crossed and an open book resting casually in her hands.

"M-Morgana?! How long have you been there?!" Viviane stammered, her face growing even redder, now from sheer embarrassment.

Morgana looked up from her book, a mischievous smile playing on her lips. "Oh, I'd say since the charming little 'Master… why won't you come back already?'"

With a flick of her hand, Viviane's voice echoed in the room, perfectly mimicked through magic, laden with the same melancholic and dreamy tone she had used.

"Y-You weren't supposed to be listening!" Viviane protested, covering her face with her hands, desperately trying to hide her shame.

"Oh, but how could I not?" Morgana replied, snapping her book shut and leaning casually against the armrest of the sofa. "You were practically shouting your feelings to the entire room. Honestly, Aunt, who would've thought the majestic Lady of the Lake could be so adorably pathetic."

"P-Pathetic?! Morgana!" Viviane exclaimed, her hands trembling as she struggled to find something, anything, to counter with.

Morgana raised her hands in mock surrender, her grin only growing more devilish. "I'm just saying. It's not every day I get to see you, the embodiment of serenity and mystery, completely unraveling over a man. This is pure gold, Aunt."

"You're impossible," Viviane muttered, sinking into the vanity stool, feeling more defeated by her embarrassment than by any battle she had ever faced.

"Oh, but you love me this way," Morgana quipped with a victorious smirk, picking up her book again. "Now, do go on. I'm curious to hear more about what your 'master' makes you feel."

"Morgana!" Viviane practically yelled, but the witch only laughed, returning to her reading as if nothing had happened.

"All right, all right, I surrender," Morgana said, setting the book aside with a theatrical sigh. Then her expression shifted, becoming more serious. She crossed her legs and leaned forward slightly. "Now… let's talk about that."

Viviane frowned, confused, but Morgana's eyes locked onto hers with a piercing intensity. "I sealed him," the witch finally said, her voice heavy.

Viviane's eyes widened in shock. "You… you sealed him?"

"Yes. And before you ask—yes, I teleported you somewhere safe. But seriously, did you really think I'd let you get hurt without leaving a mark on that idiot? Please."

"But I thought—"

"That I just saved you and left it at that?" Morgana interrupted, shaking her head. "I'm not that nice. Before that bastard disappeared, I sealed his body."

Viviane blinked, trying to process what she was hearing. "His body...? But how did you...?"

"Oh, it was simple," Morgana replied with a sly smile, raising her hand and gesturing theatrically. "The idiot died, but since no one was about to lug around that grotesque corpse, I decided to be practical. Used a bit of dimensional magic, neatly compacted it, and shoved it into a ring. Voilà, problem solved."

"You… compacted his body… into a ring?" Viviane repeated, still struggling to wrap her mind around the idea.

Morgana shrugged, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. "Of course. I'm not a fan of leaving loose ends lying around. Besides, who knows? I'll study that thing and see if I can trace that disgusting energy back to its source."