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The 'Throne room' as Cuban liked to refer to it, had been redecorated to fit Cuban's standard. However, Cuban left a great deal of things intact. Although he did not possess that taste in royal quality that Basit had or rather surrounded himself with, that did not mean that he did not appreciate some of the things Basit left behind.

Sometimes, he even indulged in them.

Today was not like most days that he would just sit here alone.

They were others around, like Domani, Arizona and even Areola sitting at one corner, but the room was totally quiet, except of course for Cuban's persistent tapping of his thigh with a finger.

One look at him, and one could easily tell that he was bothered about something. 

From the look of it, it was very important. 

Unlike Arizona, Areola's mother, who was dumb to the affairs happening around Cuban, existing only for the sexual gratification of his urges, Domani could guess what the problem was all about. 

After all, she knew a bit of the current problems that Cuban was troubled with. From the rigid look on his face, she suspected that a particular half-born was at the center of the problem. 

That is, the issue had something to do with Lenny's existence.

Cuban had summoned them about thirty minutes ago, and until this moment, he had not said a word. 

In fact, he had not even looked in their direction. 

Suddenly, Domani stood at her feet as she attempted to leave. 

This action of hers caught Cuban's attention. "Did I say you could leave?"

She turned to him, "You didn't say why we should stay either!"

He frowned a bit, "Don't test me Domani. I am not in the mood..."

"Well, you are never in the mood," She rolled her eyes at him, "Unless you want to Fuck or slaughter, you are really just a boring man."

"Hmmm?" Cuban raised a brow at her.

"Well, is it not true?" she turned, and taking her time, her long velvet gown swaying about her ever divinely blessed figure, she strolled up to him, and then she leaned in, whispering by his ear, "So, are you going to talk to the baroness or not? or do you fear a conversation with her going bad?"

Cuban's frown got deeper, such information was not supposed to be known by any other person aside himself and Momoa, "How did you know?" he asked. 

She smiled a little, "You talk in your sleep," she replied. "Besides, is that not why you summoned all three of us here? You fear that your audience with the Baroness would be very terrible and your blood will boil. You are keeping us around so that you can easily vent your lust when that happens. After all, your relationship with her is not so good."

Hearing this, Cuban could not help but crack a faint smile, "For one that prides herself in acquiring knowledge, you are lacking terrible behind on the intricate details. But since you are so hungry to know, then I'll let you know."

Cuban stood to his feet as he waved his hand. A red miasma floated out and into his environment, blocking him and Domani in a smoky-like veil. However, it did not spread all over. It only moved as if it had a life of its own, surrounding them both. 

Arizona and Areola watched what was happening. Both of them frowned. Yet again, Domani was getting favored treatment from Cuban. 

However, none of them could say a word about this. All they could do was just hold their tongue and watch.

Afterwards, Cuban made a long cut with his fingers on his arm, and then, as the blood flowed down, he recited an incantation in a language Domani evidently did not understand. 

She raised a brow at this, "You can use your darkline magic like a witch?" 

Cuban raised a brow at her, giving her that look as if he was staring at a fool. "You forget... I carry royal blood! We are the oldest form of magic. Older than even Negative magic."

Drop by Drop, the blood fell from the wound he had made. He spoke lowly in a foreign language.

 Domani could not understand the language, but as earlier stated by Cuban, she had Knack for acquiring knowledge. "Is that... Enochian tongue!? The language of Angels?"

Cuban turned to her and shook his head, "No! They sound alike, but are entirely different from one another. If you had royal blood, you would have instantly understood. After all, it is a language unlike any other. It cannot be taught nor be learned. It comes directly as the bloodline wills. It's called..."

"Bellsybabble!" Domani whispered softly through her teeth, "The tongue of the first fallen granted only to the nine-royal family of the Damned."

Cuban nodded, "Good! you know of it! Even its name is but a myth. I'm kind of impressed a low demon like yourself has heard of the Bellsybabble."

"But even within the royal families, only a select few can speak it. Only those that have the purest of Bloodlines with the most terrifying of souls..." she paused in her speech, and her eyes trailed back to him. "Are you really an abandoned son?"

This time around, Cuban pretended not to have heard her words.

He turned once more to his casting, not giving her any more attention. Domani on the other hand, could not help but have a hundred questions on her mind.

All of a sudden, the smoke screen hiding Cuban that she thought she had peeled away to uncover his true self had suddenly mended itself.

What she thought she knew of him now seemed more like a child boasting to an adult of his strength after carrying a small pale of water.

After all, rumors had it that Cuban was abandoned because he was considered as a failure to the Asmodeus royal family. 

But she did not see the reason why a person that could speak Bellsybabble, a language that could neither be learned nor taught, be cast away from his family. 

This was a language that could command all the hordes of demons from the underworld itself.

She could not help but frown tightly as she bit her lower lips. What she lacked was information, and she needed to get it. She needed to get it no matter what.

The image of her lost son for a brief second appeared in her head. 

She sighed as other thoughts and machinations occupied her mind.