She had a good plan, the same one she had made years ago when she ascended to the throne: abandon real power in the Order and transfer temporary command between a few senior priestesses who hated each other. Nothing difficult. Tiramis' spies reported that they had retreated from the capital grounds. The better for her; the angels would surely give her a warm welcome.

"And that's the point. You know me; I run with whores. You won't arouse suspicion like that because nobody pays attention to my maidens," he hissed, hanging his gaze on the hem of her short skirt.

"I'm nobody's maiden," she replied, adjusting her corset as if that would cover anything.

"After all, I'm not saying anything. You can always walk like a queen. I won't forbid you. Do you want to? I'll even help carry the train of your dress, but I'm sure that before we leave here well enough, they will report to Lucifer about the Lady of Heaven," he shrugged his shoulders.

"I know. You don't have to repeat yourself."

"What are you going to do about Heaven?" he asked cautiously.

"What do you mean? It belongs to me. If I can tame the priestesses and keep them out of the center of the city, I can take care of the administration. I sent a letter from here, and I'm sure you remember. I announced myself, so they stopped the procedures. I didn't sign their documents. 'You said it yourself, I am still crowned, the throne is mine,' she replied calmly, and he took a moment to consider how to express what he already had on his mind.

"Get the priestesses and come back here. Don't wander around the capital, and don't go to the palace. You don't have any friends there yet," he hissed finally, careful of every word, and watched as the goddess finally turned to him, freezing him with one of those looks of hers at which angels trembled.

"Get up, we're leaving. On the way, explain to me exactly what you mean."

"Will you trust me? Can you? Don't go to the capital. Not to the palace. Go to the priestesses, get what you need to keep them quiet for the next millennium, and come back here. You're going to need soldiers no matter what you plan to do," he replied, sensing that he was going to drone on now or later. They walked for a while in silence, and they did not arouse suspicion. She successfully hid her face behind her hair.

"All right, I'll be back, even though it's unwise. The angels are no threat; it was the priestesses who were the problem. Did you bring two soldiers as I asked?" They entered this deserted passage, which she recognized.

"Yes, they're waiting inside," he muttered, opening the door for her. They were welcomed by two grown men, with weapons at their waist. "Your guard. I have instructed them how to behave around you."

"They'll be enough for now. I'll change, and we'll see you in a couple of hours. Someone will probably let you know I'm back," she muttered nervously rummaging through one of his drawers.

"Are you looking for what I found you in out there?"

"I'm not going to the priestesses dressed like that. I have responsibilities. There are rules," she snorted, meanwhile changing clothes. She paid no attention either to the guards drooling at her or to his rather straightforward stare.

"The rush is good for you, Your Highness," he hissed, watching as she already attached the sword to her belt. She pretended not to have heard. She opened the portal, nodded at her soldiers, and disappeared somewhere on the other side. The goddess of the night never lied, so he was sure that when she was done, she would be back, but he wasn't going to wait in Hell during that time. He checked his own weapons, pulled in some of his drugs, and drank a lot of wine while gathering himself. He wasn't supposed to do this, damn it. He knew perfectly well what he would find there. But he had to; he could feel it in his bones. He inhaled some more before opening the portal and moving with a confident step.

You're going, though?

"The bastard has taken the throne. Ksira mustn't find out; she'll get furious, and the priestesses, as you know yourself, won't support her," he walked quite quickly towards the Heavenly Palace.

You won't get Paradise.

"I don't want it. It belongs to her. How would I get something that already has a rightful owner? If...then I would prefer a place with a clean start that no one has plucked before me."

He entered the building, overpowered the two angels at the entrance, and spotted a completely terrified Uzifiel. They knew each other, but when they had previously met, Tiramis had looked very different. Shortly before the Almighty let them win and close somewhere far away, he had given him his own body. Someone who had served so much time under the Lord of All Things, walking around wearing long robes with hair meticulously groomed, should have noticed the difference immediately. But not this boy... he honestly admired that Uzifiel had not yet cut off his own hands using a sword. With this level of cleverness, it seemed painfully possible.