My Wives are Beautiful Demons

Chapter 823: Love was complicated.

Sapphire remained lying on her back in bed, eyes open and fixed on the dark ceiling of the room. The castle was silent at that hour, and no outside noise was strong enough to interrupt her thoughts. Even so, she could not rest. Her body had already been healed, her energy was stable, and the wounds left by the Abyss had almost completely disappeared. The problem was no longer in the flesh.It was in her pride.

She had been defeated with ease.

Not by a primordial divinity, an enemy beyond all comprehension, or some creature whose existence stood above known laws. She had been brought down by a Deadly Sin she considered inferior, predictable, and irritating. Lust had entered her mind, used her own desires against her, and reduced her to a prisoner before Sapphire could offer any truly meaningful resistance. The memory of that moment returned every time she closed her eyes, accompanied by the unpleasant sensation of helplessness that refused to disappear.

Sapphire turned onto her side and pulled the sheet a little higher, trying to force her body to relax.

It did not work.

A few seconds later, she moved again, now staring at the bedroom window. The night outside remained peaceful, and the normality of the view only made her frustration more intense. Everything seemed to have returned to its place, but she did not feel as she had before.

The defeat had opened a wound no healing energy could close.

"Pathetic," she murmured, not knowing whether she was speaking about Victoria or herself.

The answer was obvious.

Sapphire closed her eyes and tried to control her breathing. She thought of Vergil descending into the Abyss alone, crossing dozens of floors, taking the Authority of Death, and exterminating the Sins who had captured them all. He had arrived, solved the problem, and brought everyone back. He had not failed. He had not hesitated. He had not needed to be rescued.

She, on the other hand, had been found chained to a wall.

The memory made her jaw tighten.

Sapphire had always taken pride in depending on no one. She could love, protect, share responsibilities, and even allow someone to care for her from time to time, but she had never accepted the idea of being incapable of surviving on her own. That was part of her identity. She was Sapphire. The woman who had faced kings, churches, armies, and gods. The demon who had crossed entire periods of human history leaving fear, corpses, and legends wherever she passed.

Being saved should not have bothered her.

But it did.

Not because Vergil had come for her. She would never despise that.

What wounded her pride was the fact that she had needed him.

After nearly an hour of trying to sleep, Sapphire finally lost her patience. She pushed the sheets aside and got up, letting her feet touch the cold floor of the room. She remained seated on the edge of the bed for a few seconds, elbows resting on her knees, while running her hands through her disheveled hair. Her body was still tired, but her mind remained far too alert to accept rest.

She opened the wardrobe and searched for any simple clothes that would not take time to put on. She chose dark training leggings and a tight top made of durable, flexible fabric. She did not need armor, ornaments, or clothes that reinforced her position. At that moment, she did not want to look like a queen, a noblewoman, or the wife of someone important.

She only wanted to train until she felt her body fail.

After getting dressed, she stopped in front of the mirror.

The woman reflected there looked familiar and, at the same time, distant.

Sapphire adjusted the top around her body and observed her own face. Her eyes still carried strength. Her posture remained firm. There were no visible marks from the capture. Anyone who found her at that moment would probably see the same dangerous, arrogant woman as always.

She, however, saw something else.

She saw who she had been ten years earlier.

Back then, Sapphire never needed to think twice before entering a war. She did not evaluate emotional consequences, did not fear losing someone, and did not worry about the possibility of not returning. Her world was simple because almost nothing held enough value to be used against her. The death of subordinates was a cost. The destruction of cities was a consequence. People’s hatred was only noise.

She was the most powerful Demon Queen of her era.

The most feared.

Her name had crossed human borders, forbidden archives, and religious records. Popes had died because of her throughout history, some directly by her hand, others because they had tried to face her using armies, rituals, and men who did not understand the scale of the enemy before them. Sapphire did not remember every face.

She did not need to.

Back then, they were obstacles.

She could face gods without thinking about what came afterward.

Because no one was waiting for her.

Sapphire kept staring into the mirror, trying to find that woman beneath her current surface. She was still there. Sapphire knew that. The strength had not disappeared completely, and neither had the instinct. Even so, something had changed in a profound way, and it would be a lie to pretend she had not noticed.

Vergil had appeared.

With him came relationships she had never expected to build, responsibilities born not from political duty, and a life that, for the first time, felt light. Sapphire had learned what it was like to wake beside someone without immediately thinking of betrayal. She had learned what it was like to protect a home because she cared about the people inside it, not because the territory needed to be defended. She had learned to recognize affection, concern, jealousy, comfort, and that strange peace that appeared when the world did not demand blood.

She did not blame Vergil.

She never would.

Loving him had not been a mistake. If someone offered her the chance to return to the past and avoid that relationship in order to preserve her former coldness, Sapphire would refuse without hesitation. She did not want to lose what she had. She did not want to become completely alone again merely to feel invulnerable.

The problem was something else.

After Vergil appeared, her life became so light that she began abandoning parts of herself without noticing. She stopped training with the same frequency. She stopped seeking challenges that once would have caught her attention. She delegated battles, postponed confrontations, and accepted that other people would solve problems she herself would have eliminated in the past.

At first, that had seemed like maturity.

Perhaps part of it truly was.

But there was comfort as well.

Sapphire had spent so much time doing things out of love, caring for Vergil, protecting the family, and enjoying a peace she had never known, that she stopped doing some of the things she had loved before he entered her life. Not because he had forbidden her. Vergil had never tried to make her smaller. The choice had been entirely hers, made through small repeated decisions until it became a habit.

She raised one hand and touched her reflection.

"You have gone soft," she said to the woman in the mirror.

The statement sounded bitter, but not entirely unfair.

Sapphire had always known she was a difficult woman. She had excessive pride, a short temper, possessive behavior, and an unpleasant tendency to resolve conflict through violence. Living with her was not simple. Loving her was not simple either. Vergil managed both, but that did not erase who she was.

Or who she had been.

She had not imagined, however, that only one year of relative peace could make her so vulnerable. One year should not have been enough to erase centuries of combat, persecution, and survival. It should not have been enough to make a woman who fought gods fall so easily before Lust.

Sapphire clenched her fist before the mirror.

She still remembered the sensation caused by the curse. The internal heat, the mind losing focus, desires taking distorted shapes, and her own will being used as a weapon against her. Victoria had not defeated her only by being more powerful. She had won because she found open spaces Sapphire had allowed to exist.

Love.

Desire.

Fear of loss.

The need to return.

Everything that had made her life better had also become an opening.

That realization hurt more than the defeat.

For a few moments, Sapphire wondered whether it was possible to continue loving that way and still recover her former ferocity. She did not want to choose between Vergil and her own strength. She would not accept such a stupid choice. He was part of her now, but that did not mean everything else had to disappear.

Perhaps the mistake had been treating peace like retirement.

Perhaps she had confused happiness with permission to stop.

Sapphire pulled her hand away from the mirror and straightened her shoulders. The reflected woman still looked tired, but there was something new in her eyes. It was not the old absence of emotion. She did not want that complete version of herself back. It was a different decision, more difficult and probably healthier.

She would learn to carry both.

Love and violence.

Home and war.

The woman who lay beside Vergil and the Demon Queen who had terrorized entire eras.

Sapphire walked toward the bedroom door, but stopped before opening it. She looked back at the unmade bed, remembering the peace she had tried and failed to find there. Then she lowered her face and let out a long sigh.

"Love is complicated."

The sentence carried no regret. It was merely the tired conclusion of someone finally understanding the price of possessing something important. Before Vergil, Sapphire had not feared loss because almost nothing reached her heart. Now she had people for whom she would cross any hell, but that also meant her enemies could try to reach those same places.

She opened the door and left.

The castle corridors were empty, illuminated only by low demonic flames and the faint glow of nighttime runes. Sapphire walked toward the training areas, feeling energy begin to circulate more strongly through her body. She did not intend to wake anyone. She did not need company, comfort, or praise.

She needed to remember what she could still do.

She needed to recover what she had allowed to rust.

And, above all, she needed to make sure she would never again be found chained to a wall while someone she loved descended into the Abyss to save her.

Love was complicated.

But becoming weak was not part of the agreement.