Even the Devil Regrets it - Chapter 80

After returning to the Grand Duke’s castle in the North, a meeting was held.

All of Belial’s loyal lieutenants sat with tense expressions.

Lochlan had deliberately left the wound on his cheek untreated, wanting the others to see it.

“So, this wasn’t the first time?”

Albert asked, letting out a sharp laugh that didn’t quite reach his eyes. He looked angry but seemed to be holding it back with forced humor.

“Once, my power activated on its own and opened a gate to the underworld. Elias passed through briefly.”

“You are telling me Lord Lucifer himself came and went, and none of us had any idea?”

Albert’s voice grew louder, his words skimming dangerously close to insolence. Anita raised her eyebrows and gave him a sharp look to keep him in check.

“You are saying your powers have acted on their own before, but this is the first time you completely lost consciousness.”

“That is correct.”

Anita spoke calmly, organizing the facts, and Braeden nodded in confirmation. She fell into thought, unsure what to say.

Even Braeden had never experienced something like this before. What could be expected of demons younger and less powerful than him?

“Is there anything in the ancient texts that could help explain this?”

Lochlan asked, and Braeden threw a couple of books onto the center of the table.

“I looked. This is all I could find.”

The others went quiet. It was clear Braeden had not been sitting idle.

Lochlan opened one of the books and read aloud.

“A high-ranking demon who lives beyond their natural lifespan may lose the ability to control their power.”
“There is a record of a god intervening to destroy a demon who had lost control.”

That was all it said. The text was unhelpfully vague, and what little it revealed was deeply troubling.

Lochlan had never heard that high demons had a fixed lifespan. He already knew Braeden had long dreamed of disappearing, but this was something else entirely.

The idea that a god had once stepped in to destroy a demon who had lost control shook him.

In the past, Braeden might have welcomed such a possibility as another path to the end he once desired.

But now, there was no sign of relief in his expression.

Everyone in the room was thinking of the same person.

Juliana Ortis.

The realization of how much she had changed their master hit them all at once.

Their lord no longer wished for destruction. And yet now, he stood on the edge of it.

That contradiction filled the room with quiet dread.

“My lord, we will find a solution. Please give us some time.”

“Yes, there must be a way. We will not stop searching.”

Lochlan and Albert spoke with urgency and conviction.

“There may be a way. We will see.”

Braeden responded calmly, but his tone lacked hope.

“My lord, would it not be better to tell Her Grace the truth?”

Anita finally spoke after a long silence. Braeden’s face twisted with discomfort.

“And what exactly should I say? That her husband is a demon and will soon disappear? Should I leave her with a farewell speech and tell her to move on without me?”

No one could respond. The room fell into heavy silence.

“Look into every possible solution. Until we know more, this stays between us. Do not tell the Grand Duchess.”

“Understood, my lord.”

The three answered reluctantly.

The master who had once longed for death now wanted to live.

And yet, he might die anyway.

None of them could believe it.

Only quiet, pained breaths filled the room.

Despite the crisis looming over Braeden, time moved forward, and the grand banquet at the castle began.

Ever since Juliana had casually mentioned the upcoming event to influential nobles during her tea party, word had spread quickly among the northern aristocracy.

The newly renovated west wing ballroom had been transformed into something even more stunning than its former glory, drawing admiration from all who saw it.

The banquet hall had always been grand, with the classic beauty typical of an old castle. Now, with Juliana’s refined taste added to its decor, the atmosphere was more elegant than ever. Everyone who entered had nothing but praise.

The noblewomen examined every detail closely, even the lace patterns in the decorations that Juliana had selected. By the next day, many would likely be scrambling to copy the design.

At the same time, the fall of House Everett had become a favorite topic among the northern aristocracy.

Many northern nobles had long felt quietly inferior to the central nobility in the capital. Outwardly, they acted indifferent, but deep down, they were pleased by Everett’s disgrace.

A marquess who had dared to plot against the Grand Duke of the North deserved punishment.

To them, the power of the ducal house reflected their own strength as northern nobles. They spoke with satisfaction about the upcoming execution of the young heir to House Everett.

Meanwhile, Countess Aynard, who had grown bolder since placing Melanie in the Grand Duchess’s service, moved through the banquet hall like it belonged to her.

She walked confidently from guest to guest, acting as though she were the host.

Many people frowned at her behavior, but no one said a word. No one wanted to risk upsetting the Grand Duchess.

“At this rate, she might try to move into the castle,” Braeden said, clearly irritated.

“I do not mind. It gives me less work to do,” Juliana replied with a light smile.

Countess Aynard clearly had experience planning social events. She noticed anything out of place and quickly gave instructions to the staff.

However, the way she treated the servants of the ducal household, as if they belonged to her, was unacceptable.

Juliana replied kindly, but she had no intention of allowing the countess to overstep.

“Then I suppose we should greet her properly, don’t you think?”

She placed her hand on Braeden’s arm and smiled, her expression unusually similar to his own smirks.

Braeden noticed the resemblance and smiled in return.

“Of course. She deserves a proper greeting.”

The two of them walked through the crowd, graceful and poised, drawing every eye as they moved.

Juliana offered greetings with elegance and confidence. Her gestures, expressions, and posture shone brightly, especially tonight.

People hesitated to approach her too casually. It felt like they needed permission just to come near.

Even so, she did not make anyone feel ignored. Her green eyes met theirs directly, and her gentle smile left a lasting impression.

She held herself apart with dignity, yet never seemed distant or cold.

Together, she and Braeden reached Countess Aynard without difficulty.

When the countess saw them approaching, she lifted her chin even higher, as if to draw attention.

Standing at a distance, Melanie turned her head and shivered slightly, clearly uneasy with her mistress’s behavior.

“Countess Aynard,” Juliana said, calling to her.

The countess turned and greeted them with polite formality.

“It is always a pleasure to see you, Your Grace, and you as well, Grand Duke.”

They had not met since the tea party, but the countess deliberately added the word “always.” It was an obvious attempt to imply closeness in front of the other nobles.

Juliana’s lips curved ever so slightly.

“Miss Melanie has received excellent training. She has been a great help to me lately.”

At those words, Countess Aynard’s posture became even stiffer. It looked as though her neck might snap from the pressure.

“Of course. We put a great deal of care into her education. Her performance is only natural.”

The countess wanted to take credit for Juliana’s praise. Still, with others watching, she tried to sound modest.

But no matter how she said it, her tone did not come across as humble.

Juliana quietly noted the way Countess Aynard behaved, much like Countess Barnett, who always rushed to brag about herself in front of others.

She held back a sigh, keeping her expression calm.

People like her always acted the same way, as if they were following a script.

“No matter how important someone is, mistakes still happen. Just recently, Miss Melanie made an unfortunate mistake. She damaged one of the ducal family’s treasures.”

“What? She did what?”

Countess Aynard’s face stiffened. She had been expecting more praise, not criticism.

“I have been dealing with the issue since it happened. If it had been a minor item, I would have let it go. But the piece she damaged is a very important heirloom passed down through the ducal family for generations. It is not something I can ignore. What do you think, Countess?”

“How could something like that even happen…”

The confidence that Countess Aynard had carried just moments before began to fade quickly.

“Miss Melanie is very eager to learn and naturally curious. I suppose she wanted to examine the piece more closely. Since it is such an old artifact, she may not have realized how delicate it was.”

Juliana let her words trail off with a soft, regretful tone. The countess sighed heavily, unable to hide her concern.

Melanie’s curiosity had always been the one thing that bothered her the most.

“Of course, I am not asking House Aynard to cover the full cost. But we do expect your family to pay for half.”

Countess Aynard looked around, clearly struggling to think of a way out.

“Half, Your Grace? What exactly do you mean by that?”

“Twenty billion gold. That is actually much less than half the true value.”

“Twenty billion gold?”

The countess’s eyes widened in shock. She raised her voice, then quickly lowered it again when she realized people were listening.

Twenty billion gold was a massive amount, even for a noble house. And even if she could find a way to gather the money, spending that much would drain their funds and severely damage their businesses.

What kind of trouble did you cause, Melanie?

As Countess Aynard turned, clearly about to search for Melanie in a panic, Juliana leaned in just slightly and spoke in a calm, measured voice.

“If paying twenty billion gold right away is difficult, there is another way to make up for it. Would you like to hear it?”

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