Trying to hide her blush from such a direct compliment, Grayfia put on a stern expression and looked down at her younger brother.
The black-haired boy, after a moment of stunned silence, threw his hands up in mock outrage.
"I only speak the truth from a pure heart!" he declared dramatically. "I have never seen a demon in all the world more beautiful than my sister."
Looking at his impossibly cute, earnest face, Grayfia felt torn between wanting to pinch his cheeks and letting out a long, tired sigh.
By now, probably every servant in the mansion knew about the strange habit of the third child of the House of Lucifuge.
He often spoke in a flowery, theatrical style that could leave people completely bewildered.
Grayfia figured it was a result of him reading too many books and… being ignored by the rest of his family.
She remembered the day she found out her mother was pregnant. She had felt a wave of happiness and, at the same time, immense relief.
If the baby was a boy, she wouldn't have to become the head of the House. It might have seemed strange for any other demon to not want one of the most powerful positions in the Underworld, but Grayfia knew she couldn't bear the weight of her father's title.
Her feelings had become too complicated, especially after meeting the heir of the House of Gremory.
But all those thoughts and confusing emotions had vanished like mist the day her two brothers were born, and her mother died.
Her death was caused by the demonic aura of one of the infants flaring out of control right after birth.
A healer from the House of Sitri had identified the child as a "mutant," a demon who had awakened a new, powerful bloodline trait. But at the time, that detail hardly mattered to Grayfia or her father.
Her father, Rofocale, who had never been a cheerful man to begin with, threw himself completely into his duties as the de facto head of Hell's government.
His only distraction was training Euclis, whom he quickly named as his heir. Grayfia, meanwhile, spent more and more time at the Gremory estate, carrying out an "observation mission" for the Four Great Satans.
It was an excuse to escape her own home, which had grown cold and silent. She doted on her adorable, blond-haired brother, Euclis, feeling guilty for the heavy burden of being the heir that had been thrust upon him.
At the same time, she avoided her other brother, the one whose very existence was a painful reminder of her mother's death.
She avoided him until the night she found him wandering the mansion's corridors three years ago.
"Mother?" the little black-haired boy had whispered, his voice filled with a desperate hope that made her heart stop.
Her own throat went dry. "No," she had said gently. "I am your sister, Grayfia Lucifuge."
"I see," he replied, and it was like a light went out in his red eyes. A polite, apologetic smile appeared on his face, a smile that was chillingly adult and so out of place on a child. It was the same smile she herself used when dealing with strangers.
"Mother is dead, isn't she? I'm sorry for bothering you, sister."
In that moment, Grayfia felt as if she had been plunged into ice colder than anything the heir of the House of Sitri could create.
She no longer saw a living reminder of her mother's death. She saw a small, lonely boy, abandoned by his family and left to be raised by tutors, a stranger in his own home.
"I'm sorry," she had whispered.
Before he could react, she had closed the distance between them and wrapped him in a hug. She felt the little boy startle in surprise, but then his sleepy red eyes seemed to come alive, and his small hands clutched at her dress, holding on to the warmth she offered.
"Sister, are you thinking about your friend again?"
Inflis's sharp voice pulled her back to the present.
She shook her head, a soft smile on her face. She affectionately ruffled his hair, and he immediately beamed, looking for all the world like a happy puppy. It was strange.
Both of her brothers were very attached to her, but while Euclis was always demanding her time and attention, Inflis, despite his grand compliments and declarations of love, seemed almost afraid to bother her. He would often wait for her to start a conversation.
"No, I don't think about Sirzechs as often as you imagine."
"I did not mention your friend's name," he pointed out slyly.
"But he's the one you mean every time," she sighed. "Perhaps instead of worrying about my friends, you should make some of your own? Books can't replace real conversation, you know."
"With whom?" he scoffed. "The children my age? They are dull and naive. And everyone older than me thinks I am the naive one, but they are too afraid of Father's anger to say so."
"Inflis, your language."
"My apologies," he said, his relaxed posture instantly snapping to attention. The feverish, eager light was back in his eyes, a look that said he was ready to obey her every command. Seeing it, she found she couldn't be stern with him.
"Father has already told me that you and Euclis will be coming with me to Lucifade for the gathering," she said, changing the subject. "What do you think about that?"
"I am happy to be near m-… my sister."
"Must you always be so formal with me?"
"I would not dare to show you disrespect, sister."
Looking into his devoted, almost worshipful eyes, Grayfia felt a headache coming on. He was acting like a butler from one of his novels.
"Alright, fine," she gave in. "Just listen. You need to pay close attention at this gathering. The young descendants of many noble houses will be there. Be especially watchful of the heirs of the Four Great Satans. This is…"