polarissruler

Title: Power
Prompt: Historical 03 - Royalty
Fandom: Soul Cartel
Rating: T
Summary: Why would going back to Justina cause Uriel suffering? Michael meant nothing for him.

As always, you can also read it on FFN and AO3.

“It is my greatest pleasure to welcome you in Justina, Lord Mastema.” Michael clenched his hands in a fist and tried to hide them behind his back. The huge crystal throne that looked as if made of pure water stopped him. “But I excepted Queen Astaroth would have come in person.” His smile strained around the corners. Any moment it would tear his face in two. “How shall we proceed?” Only his voice excluded grace.

Opposite him, Mastema was smiling. For the first time Uriel had seen him so… real. Nothing too big — like every other attempt to hide smiles. Either he had learned to lie better, or — Uriel doubted that — he was enjoying the peace talks.

“It is an even greater pleasure to come here, Your Highness.” Grace, control, power — Mastema looked as if the capital already belonged to him. And why would he not? He had sworn he would bring the whole Heaven Kingdom under his thumb. “I'd rather we start with discussing your surrender. Once you agree to my terms, we will proceed to draft a peace treaty, favorable enough so your country might survive a few years.”

Michael glanced at Uriel, his expression far more sour than the one time he had eaten a whole lemon. “Only because of your guards you make such bold claims.” Not perfect, but at least he didn't threaten him outright. Raphael would have demanded Mastema's execution and… And what? The Heaven Kingdom had only two princes left — the Heir Apparent and the General.

Uriel had run from home on that whim, only to come back. Micheal looked at him as if he were a pest; a little bug that only destroyed. At least he had the helmet on his face and Michael treated him as one of Mastema's servants. What would he do if he saw Uriel's face?

“Your Highness, even alone I'd have not changed anything. Our army has destroyed yours. What, but foolish pride, is stopping you from agreeing to our terms?” Mastema spoke in a slow, clear voice. Not asking - then he would be far sweeter, as poisonous honey, until one could only answer yes. “And to show you our charitable nature, I shall ask only of territories. Let me see.” Mastema counted on his fingers, taking his time. “I'd like only every conquered fortress. And one gift more as a cherry on the top.”

Micheal ordered a servant to bring a map. Mastema wasted no time in opening it on the table, almost tearing the parchment. “How about we draw the border here?” His finger followed a mostly straight line but near the Castle Justina, he made a sharp turn to include it in his terms.

The capital? Michael would never agree — and Uriel was sure Queen Astaroth had not asked for that. No, she must have trusted Mastema's intuition. It had won them many favorable contracts - and as many devastating battles.

“You must adore the war. Tell me, servant of Inferno, how much do you like throwing lives away?” The peace talks had ended. Micheal, close to tears, looked at Uriel and asked. “Does it matter for you how many people have fallen in this needless bloodshed? Is this what you want?”

“Lord Mastema wants this! His orders are absolute!” Uriel blurted out. Could Micheal guess his voice? Using Mastema as a defense for his actions - had he fallen that low? Of course; he had become that snake's pet project. Mastema would never let him forget those words - Uriel felt him coiling around his heart.

Michael's eyes opened wide. “Leave. Leave and never come back here unless you conquer the castle and kill me!” Even despite the shaky voice, Uriel felt the weight of that oath. Another part of his past had died. No, they had died long ago - when he had run away! All his siblings had become enemies! He did not love them any more than he loved all other enemies he had slain!

Why did he wish he could return home and apologize so much while Mastema was dragging him away?