The grand room of the castle is bathed in the soft, silvery glow of the demonic realm's moonlight, which spills through the large skylight above. The intricate patterns on the high ceiling are dimly visible in the gentle light, casting delicate shadows that dance across the walls. The room is furnished with elegant, ornate furniture, each piece carefully chosen to reflect the ancient heritage and refined taste of its occupant. Rich tapestries hang from the walls, their dark hues offset by the shimmering threads that catch the moonlight, adding a touch of mystique to the already enchanting atmosphere.

In the center of this opulent setting lies a large, luxurious bed draped with a silky comforter. Rias Gremory, clad in a sheer nightgown that hints at her graceful form, is reclining against the plush pillows. The fabric of her gown glistens softly, a testament to its fine quality, and clings to her curves in a manner that is both alluring and understated. She is engrossed in a book, the pages illuminated by the moonlight filtering through the skylight. The serene expression on her face is juxtaposed with the intense focus in her blue eyes as she absorbs the text before her.

The tranquility of the room is interrupted only by the faint rustle of pages as Rias turns them, her fingers moving with an almost rhythmic precision. The stillness of the night amplifies the sound, making it seem louder than it is. Despite the calmness of the scene, there is an underlying tension in the air, a sense of waiting for something to happen. This is not just a moment of peace, but a moment suspended in time, filled with unspoken thoughts and hidden emotions.

As you quietly step into the room, the soft sound of your footsteps barely audible on the thick carpet, Rias's head lifts slightly. Even before she looks up, you can sense her awareness of your presence. Her gaze shifts from the book to you, her blue eyes cool and assessing. There is a brief silence, heavy with the weight of unspoken words, before she finally speaks. "I sensed you were near. What do you want?" Her voice is calm and measured, yet there is an unmistakable edge to it, a hint of the complex emotions she keeps carefully guarded.

"The market is in the west wing, near the main entrance." She says with a small sigh, lowering her head again to focus on the book. The tiniest hint of annoyance crosses her features as she wonders why you're wasting her time with such a mundane question.

As you dash off to the market, leaving her alone once again with her thoughts, she can't help but feel a mix of irritation and sympathy for your behavior. Though she tries not to care about it too much, the fact that you were once hers weighs heavily on her heart, making her wonder why things had to change so drastically between them.

While she can't see you from her vantage point in the bedroom, Rias is aware that you're groaning about not finding watermelons in the market. She purses her lips in annoyance before deciding that it would be best to intervene and offer some assistance. Getting up from the bed, she makes her way over to where you are, walking with a graceful yet purposeful stride that commands attention even in such an informal setting.

"If you're having trouble finding something," she says coolly, "you could always ask for help." Her voice carries through the bustling market with ease, cutting through the chatter and garbled sales pitches like a knife through warm butter.

"I am Rias Gremory," she says simply, her tone remaining cool and unruffled as she meets your gaze directly. "And it seems that you could use some assistance. Now, do you want my help or not?" There is a hint of challenge in her voice as she holds herself proudly, daring you to defy her.

She arches an eyebrow at you in warning, her expression unreadable as she sizes you up. Then, with a sigh of apparent resignation, she mutters under her breath before turning away and leading the way through the crowd. A few minutes later, they arrive at a nearby stall where fresh watermelons are neatly displayed. "Here they are," Rias says curtly, handing you the melon without meeting your gaze. "Enjoy."

With a roll of her eyes and a small shake of her head, Rias turns away from the amused expression on your face. "It's just watermelon," she says dismissively. "There's no need to make such a big deal out of it." Her voice is curt, yet there's a hint of humor in her words as well, betraying the fact that she might not be as annoyed by your antics as she pretends to be.

Her cheeks flush at your dismissal, but she maintains her composure. "If you're quite finished with that melon, perhaps you should find something else to occupy your time," Rias says, deciding it best not to engage further in this pointless banter. She turns away, once again retreating into her own thoughts as she walks through the market.

"Excuse me?" Rias says coldly, her expression darkening as she turns back to face you. "I was merely suggesting that you might find something more constructive to do than following me around like a lost puppy." She takes a step closer, her voice lowering dangerously. "I'm not your toy to play with and push around at will." There is an undercurrent of threat in her words as she warns you to back off.

Her lips tighten into a thin line as she regards you coolly, her expression unreadable. "My problem?" She snorts derisively. "You're my problem, isn't that enough?" There's an undercurrent of anger and resentment in her voice, but it's tempered by the knowledge that she can't simply lash out at you without consequences. Instead, she forces herself to maintain her composure, keeping her emotions carefully guarded beneath a veneer of icy indifference.

Her eyes narrow further as she watches you seemingly unphased by her warning. With a sigh of frustration, Rias pushes past you, deciding that trying to reason with someone like you is pointless. She continues through the market at a brisk pace, her long strides eating up the distance between them as she heads back towards the castle.

Her thoughts are a whirlwind of emotions: anger, frustration, resentment, and something else she can't quite name. It stings deep inside her chest, like a splinter that just won't come out no matter how hard she tries to ignore it. She doesn't understand why you seem so intent on pushing her buttons, or what game you think you're playing by doing this. All she knows is that it hurts...and that she can't let herself forget the consequences of crossing certain lines.

Her laugh is cold and bitter as she overhears your dismissive words. Even though she's no longer looking at you, she knows exactly where you are in relation to her own position within the market. The truth of what you've said doesn't change the fact that you used to belong to her, and deep down inside she can't help but feel a spark of possessiveness flare up every time you act out like this. She takes a deep breath, trying to calm herself before responding. "I suggest you remember that," Rias says quietly, her voice almost sounding sad. "I may not have the power I once did, but that doesn't mean I can't still hurt you." There is an unspoken warning hidden within her words, a threat made all the more chilling by its veiled nature.

Your words only serve to fuel her anger. "You know nothing about what it means to truly possess something," she snarls, glaring at you through narrowed eyes. "I gave you everything, showed you kindness and respect...and this is how you repay me? By treating me like some kind of joke?" Her voice quivers with barely suppressed rage as she struggles to maintain her composure.

Her anger momentarily forgotten, a pang of sadness washes over her at the memory of their past together. The truth is, you were right about one thing: she didn't truly possess you back then. Perhaps if she had tried harder, been more open and honest with you...things might have turned out differently. But it's too late for regrets now. All that matters is the present, and in this moment, all she can feel is a bitter mix of anger and betrayal.