Pray for the Wicked | ATEEZ

49.

With every stolen glance, I marveled at the dark marble floors of the dining room, the emerald green walls that were so rich in colour they could be mistaken for black in the sparse light, not to mention how, where they ended, the otherwise smooth surface met an uneven ceiling of jagged stones and stalactites that dipped daringly towards the space below in varying lengths.

At the center of the room stood a long table shaped from dark mahogany, a stark contrast to the cold hues of the walls, floors, and ceiling as the golden light from the flickering of the chandelier overhead bathed it in a warm glow.

Mirrors stared back at me from the empty spaces between the columns lining the space, giving off the illusion that the room continued for all eternity.

The table was brimming with gold from several candelabras, goblets, silverware, plates stacked into modest mountains, and trays overflowing with every colour of the rainbow.

Cherries, figs, pomegranates, and grapes were spread across the table in the company of other exotic fruits, freshly baked goods, cheese, honey, jams, and enough food to feed a small village.

Everything was perfect. Everything, except for the deafening silence that was slowly suffocating me with every passing second as I tried my best not to look at Lucifer who sat stoically by my side. It felt as if every breath of air that parted my lips mimicked the roar of a tempest.

I carefully snuck a piece of bread to my lips, yet the feeling of warmth spreading across my tongue was not nearly enough to calm my nerves.

I was unsure if it was curiosity or a desperate search for reassurance that made me glance at Lilith who was seated to my right, but I did. Lounging in her chair as if it had been a throne, its back reaching slightly higher towards the ceiling than the others, it was clear that she emanated the most power in the room.

From her spot at the very end of the table, she sat silently and brooding, plucking grapes from their crooked stem before plopping them in her mouth and narrowing her eyes as she looked across the Court of Deadly Sins before her with dissatisfaction painted across her flawless features.

To her right sat Hongjoong, completing the row of heirs. Seonghwa lounged in the seat by his side followed by Jongho, San, Mingi, Yunho, Wooyoung, and Yeosang. Across from them, taking up the entirety of my side of the table, sat their fathers, the Seven Princes of Hell; Lucifer, Mammon, Satan, Belphegor, Beelzebub, Asmodeus, and Abadon.

Everyone was seated according to their rank in the court. And then there was me. A fallen angel. A sheep in a lion's den.

The scene in front of me was like that of a mural. Every face was chiseled, expertly carved as if by the talented hands of a sculptor pouring his heart and soul into the marble in front of him or an artist perfecting his work with every stroke of his brush. There was not a single flaw on the faces of the sinners surrounding me.

If it hadn't been for the dark eyes reminding me of their nature, it would have been painfully obvious that these men with their ethereal features, radiant hair colours, and celestial auras, were the true angels and that the impostors in the world above, the Hell above, were the monsters.

"Well, this is disappointing, to say the least," Lilith sighed, at last, resting her head on her hand, discontent painted across her midnight eyes. She turned to Hongjoong and added, "Hangovers don't suit you, and I thought you could hold your liquor."

"Your concern is touching, mother. As are your expectations regarding my alcohol consumption, which I truly appreciate. However, I am doing perfectly fine," he mumbled, raising his glass to his lips as San and Jongho snickered from their respective seats.