The Demon Queen of Succubi watched the milling crowd of Demons, Devils, and Daemons with frosty indifference--until, catching sight of the Bitch Queen, Malcanthet tilts her head to regard the curious devil--a devil as beautiful, or very nearly as beautiful as she. The Queen of Succubi stares for an instant---and only an instant with a strange expression in her molten white eyes. Could it be surprise? Or perhaps something else, entirely, shock? Jealousy? Anger?<br/><br/>Whatever it was it is gone in a mili-second---replaced by a leer--then a coquettish smile. "Well--I see hell has finally arrived at a process whereby my children may be cloned in their breeding pits--or perhaps carved from mortal flesh? Who wrought you, child?" The Demon Queen lifts one abyssal fire lacquered hand.<br/><br/>"Twenty souls--of the blackest variety."<br/><br/>The Queen takes a goblet swilling with angel blood and chunks of ice and sips, demurely, her thick lips turn in the vague hint of a smile--does she appear smug?<br/><br/>Eyes begin to afix Malcanthet and Na'Amah--many not, with surprise the fact that two of the most, if not the most beautiful in attendance stand so close---many speculate at what Na'Amah is precisely? A greater pleasure devil? One of Asmodeus's bastards?