#never kill yourself. thousand of words on a character with <10 minutes of screentime

[theophagie]

Stella: A Collection of Articulated Yappings Pre-Season 3

Aaand she's all finished. Yay 💜 And since neither ao3 nor tumblr won in the poll I made for it, in the end I decided that it shall here too

Chapter 0.9: Introduction

Greetings! I wanted all my thoughts on Stella to be nice and pretty and orderly SOMEWHERE, and what better time to organize them than while in waiting limbo.

I want to preface this by saying one thing. Two things, actually.

1) My “base” are a bunch of posts that I wrote on my blog over the past months, and that I wrangled into an essay-ish style and divided into small sections to fit a chapter-by-chapter format. Part of the reason I chose to do this was because the further time went on, the madder I got with… some things… and I didn't want to carry that energy over to this experiment.

2) I am not part of the self-identified “critical community”, as in my experience it's a crowd of people who either stick around just to hate on the story despite disliking its direction or who misuse the word “critical”, interpret characters' actions/behaviours through the worst lenses possible, and use said misreadings of the source material to make up reasons to hate on the story, on the people who work on it, etc. That being said, I have some issues with the broader fandom as well when it comes to how people talk about Stella, and some of those grievances will come up here. I am also not going to preface every paragraph with reminders that Stella is a bad person or things along these lines: I shouldn't have to lead people by the hand.

PS. Because the images embedded in this chapter were made some time ago, they have that passive-aggressive vibe that I want to avoid here. Despite this, they summarize my points well enough, so I chose to include them anyway.

Chapter 1: A Full Barrel And A Drunk Wife

Title reference: the Italian equivalent of having your cake and eating it too. Both at the same time = ❌️ !

“Why can’t villains just be evil anymore? Why must we care for their backstory, motivation, interiority?”

These are frequent questions when it comes to media discussions, and many a time the answer is a simple one: because stories which can afford one-dimensional villains are few, and stories which deal with mature themes are generally not amongst them. Monodimensional villains work best when the narrative that they belong to engages in simple, “black vs white” morality (as is often the case in children's stories), in the context of certain kinds of fantasy or horror media (where they can embody specific concepts, fears, elements), et cetera. When a show that doesn't share these traits approaches its main characters and their struggles with nuance, it sets up the expectation that surely this treatment will be expanded to their conflicts against their respective antagonists. By refusing to develop its villains, it thus runs the risk of trivializing the very conflicts that drive its story. In this case, a villain with no depth is not a good contrasting force to a complex protagonist: the stakes are too unbalanced. Furthermore, a villain doesn't need complexity for the purpose of becoming sympathetic— or redeemable, as many often say (accuse): it’s for making them believable. If a character’s motivations are rooted in reality or even just feel realistic, refusing to engage with them weakens the narrative. If I can have an easy understanding of what could lead a person into a downward spiral, then that automatically absolves them from being “just evil”.

In light of being so invested in its protagonists' inner world and complexities, and in the way their circumstances affect every aspect of their lives, Helluva Boss is one of those shows which cannot afford to neglect most of its antagonists, because doing so would undermine the very narrative that it's trying to build. Stella is one of these antagonists. By having committed to exploring Stolas' struggles, allowing Stella to remain a one-note villain would weaken the overall story due to the fact that the two of them not only came from the same background, but also share significant history with each other (three characters if we count Octavia as well). The story has already “gone there” with one of them, so why shouldn’t it do the same with the other one, when it would only make for a better, more complex depiction of an emotional reality?

Once again, the issue isn’t that Stella is a bad person. It’s that there's been no effort put into her characterization, and “you will see her backstory soon” can only carry you so far when she’s been stagnant for two whole seasons. It feels lazy, mismanaged at best, and it's made all the more glaring by her narrative proximity to Stolas. All she's done so far is function like a plot device.

There are viewers who are actively hostile to the idea of Stella becoming a complex character — or rather, having inherent complexities which need to be addressed — which is why I sympathize with her “stans” to a point, because oftentimes discussing her leads to receiving backlash regardless of the opinions expressed. I said “to a point” for good reason: these are the same people who accuse the writers of babying Stolas, who outright victim-blame him, and so on. I share their frustration and dissatisfaction with the handling of Stella's character, not what they blame them on.

Chapter 2: That's The Last Song You'll Ever Sing

Title reference: Bird Song by Florence + the Machine.

S2Ep1: The Circus foregoes all subtlety by very explicitly unveiling a theme that will recur throughout the whole season, and that had been floating in the background of the show since its very beginning: childhood experiences, and their clear and undeniable effect on a person's development. While the episode doesn't remotely focus on Stella's perspective, as neither do S1 and S2 as a whole, I believe that her picture offers some insight into her childhood— whether any thought was actually put into its contents and despite the fact that many took it as proof that she's innately evil.

Violence does not exist in a vacuum, especially when it comes to children. While the specifics of Stella’s situation are still unknown, one can speculate. 

As seen with Stolas, children of the aristocracy are burdened by strict expectations, and their value is tied to their usefulness to their family: they are assets with no freedom or autonomy. Stepping out of line or not being able to live up to the family's expectations equals punishment, physical and emotional. Even accounting for how spoiled Stella would have been growing up, this would apply tenfold to someone whose duty will be to marry a prince and provide him with an heir. Stella’s naivety as an adult is another point of interest: aiding or encouraging her psychological and emotional development clearly was not one of the objectives of her education. And why should it have been? What a waste of time, effort, and resources for someone whose destiny was to just be a prince's bride and the mistress of a palace, with infinite material wealth to appease her every whim.

Cruelty — cruelty towards animals especially — can be born from feelings of powerlessness, frustration, fear or uncertainty even, as a drastic attempt to feel the slightest bit in control. If Stella was raised in a strict or outright abusive environment, which the Goetia family inherently is, it would make sense for her behaviour to be a misplaced reaction to her circumstances.

Saying that Stella was simply “born bad” is an easy, maybe tempting explanation because it doesn’t require any reflection, nor any openness towards her. Stella has been a one-dimensional villain for the entirety of two seasons so far, but for the sake of the show's credibility, she can't remain one. She's an unexplored character, but there's no need to look too far for ways to dive into her interiority, as there are many options to explore even just by using this small glimpse of her childhood as a guideline.

Chapter 3: Everything Will Glow For You

Title reference: The Love Club by Lorde.

Personal traumas aside— while class and species differences have been the underlying causes for the conflicts within Helluva Boss thus far, the Goetia family embodies a kind of structured power which further complicates things from a social point of view.

[Note: this image was made on a whim to summarize as much as possible the contents of a post. As such, it is extremely reductive.]

Historically, especially in the aristocracy, marriage has been a contract between families and a means of securing alliances and reinforcing societal hierarchies. Within this system, women are tools for dynastic continuity and defined by their relationship to the men around them. The information at our disposal makes it clear that the Goetia family is structured in such a way that it upholds these patriarchal traditions, ones which abhor the idea of transgression. In such a context, for example, the scandal of Stolas' affair with Blitz is twofold: Blitz is ontologically other and lesser than, and Stolas is rejecting the expectations placed upon him by a system that both disdains and feels entitled to his person. Similarly, the Goetia family’s broader values place emphasis on the intersection of traditional masculinity and power. The notion that a man must be virile is tied to misogynistic and homophobic ideals: failing to meet certain expectations leads to derision and ostracism, which in turn reinforce the idea of femininity being inferior. 

Whether Helluva Boss wants to engage with such underlying social dynamics or not, their implications are embedded in its narrative by virtue of the subjects it chose to depict: its characters must navigate a rigidly hierarchical world, and at least within the Goetia family that hierarchy is also patriarchal in its expression. In this sense, while the show may not consciously frame Stella's scorn for Stolas' deviation from traditional masculinity through homophobic or misogynistic lenses — she never comments on Stolas' sexuality itself or on Blitz’s gender, after all — the fact remains that it's a challenge to the fundamental ideals that make up her worldview.

Stolas' decision to pursue a divorce is another such challenge.

Once again: marriage is a contract. In the case of Stolas and Stella's marriage, he secured Paimon's lineage by having an heir, she presumably secured her family’s standing, as well as her own. In light of this, Stella’s reaction to Stolas’ affair cannot be dismissed by just saying that she considers imps to be inferior to goetic demons, or to other hellborns. She absolutely does, mind you. But Stella is also a character who's profoundly concerned with self-image and reputation, and this concern reflects a broader societal pressure: as a noble and a woman, her worth is intrinsically tied to the image of marriage and monogamy. Even more crucially, divorce in the Goetia family isn't just scandalous and reputation-damaging, it's also never been done before— or so Andrealphus alleges in S2E4: Western Energy, at least. So Stella rages, because Stolas' affair, who his lover is, and their divorce are all compounding forces which undermine the very foundation upon which her authority stands.

I have no interest in trying to convince people to feel sympathy for Stella. However, I am interested in pointing out the forms of societal oppression that have shaped her life, and that are implied in the fabric of Helluva Boss' narrative— regardless of whether the show will ever choose to directly acknowledge them or not.

Chapter 4: Coal To Diamonds, Sold To Fools

Title reference: The Family Jewels by Marina.

The first private interaction between Stella and Andrealphus that the viewers are privy to is deliberately unsettling, for the show consciously employs seductive tension on Andrealphus' part to imply that there's an incestuous aspect to their rapport: Andrealphus doesn't simply repeatedly comment on Stella's beauty and calls her by sexual appellatives, he also invades her space and physically touches her when asserting his dominance over her.

While Helluva Boss ultimately chooses not to pursue this path, it purposefully framed their introductory scene in such a way that it would have benefitted from the expectations and suspense set up by media with similar characters which preceded it, and which did cross that line.

The nature of abuse is insidious, and the dynamic between Stella and Andrealphus displays this well. At its core is power, something which Andrealphus holds over Stella in a way that shapes their entire relationship. Abuse also transcends sexual orientation, which is why his sexuality doesn't negate nor collide with incestuous readings of his behaviour towards her — however sublimated said incest actually is — and the structure of the Goetia family itself, which is patriarchal in nature, legitimizes them to a point: such dynamics aren't deviant, they're an exacerbation of the power imbalances which are inherent to the institution of the family. 

The insults to Stella’s intelligence and the physical objectification which follow them aren't mere jabs, they're a means through which Andrealphus manipulates her into being — or remaining — dependent on him. In this light, an interesting detail to note is the way in which Stella’s thoughts immediately go to him after Stolas pushes on getting the divorce, coupled with the fact that he does step in to manage its proceedings. They're proof of how ingrained his influence over her is.

Stella constantly gets reminded that her worth is contingent on the prospect that she can be used by others. Her family first and foremost taught her that, and Andrealphus keeps reinforcing this belief to this day. It makes all the more sense, then, for her to be vulnerable to manipulation and paternalism, but capable of verbally standing her ground in an outright conflict. 

She doesn't retaliate with a magical display of her own when Andrealphus aggressively tries to confront her — she maybe can't — but neither is she scared of him. One might wonder if the idea of being in danger is just as foreign to her as it used to be for Stolas, rather than naivety or trust that her brother wouldn't genuinely try to hurt her.

The different ways in which Stella and Andrealphus pursue their objectives, as well as what they're respectively after, also speak to their upbringing. Stella's childishness makes her impulsive, hedonistic in the sense that she seeks immediate gratification for her wants: maintaining her social image and destroying everything which threatens it. She's not a strategist, but neither was she ever educated to be one. By contrast, Andrealphus is calculated and power-hungry, but his arrogance blinds him to the way in which his plans aren't nearly as clever as he thinks they are. For example, in S2E4: Western Energy he makes a show of belittling Stella for not caring to capitalize on her divorce from Stolas, but he had nothing to offer her other than vague words about waiting for future options and opportunities. He stalled, as he would have kept stalling if it hadn't been for Stella mentioning Stolas and Blitz's deal in S2E11: Sinsmas. The reason for this is clear: because Stella can be so easily swayed, his objectives take precedence over hers—metaphorically and literally, seeing his relevance to the show's second season finale.

Being nobles, both Stella and Andrealphus are accustomed to power and privilege. Andrealphus is manipulative as a means of maintaining the status quo, and his actions show that he feels entitled to dominate those around him. Stella, likewise, is used to power and control, and her desire for revenge against Stolas is rooted in her need to preserve the stability of her own social image. This shared noble background explains why they both resort to abuse and control to achieve their aims, as they would have learnt to see others as tools from a young age. The difference between them is that Stella finds herself in both roles: a tool to her family since birth, a handler for the first time upon being matched with someone whom she could leverage her power over. 

Another thing to note is how their difference in rank doesn't seem to play a part in their personal dynamic. The familiarity between them certainly allows them to be comfortable with each other, but it is interesting that there doesn't seem to be an underlying power play between them in this sense as well— so far, at least.

Chapter 5: Lovely Ladies, Maids of Honor

Title reference: This Hurst by Mindless Self Indulgence.

As previously stated, Stella was raised in a specific environment, one which would have dictated her role, her relationships, and the manner in which she was to navigate private, familial, and marital affairs. She would have been conditioned to expect a number of things too, like a husband who fit a particular mould, interactions that followed strict social codes, and a life that adhered to a multigenerational, ever-repeated script. The quality of these expectations is irrelevant: they were foundational to her sense of self and prospects. I do believe that marrying Stolas, who doesn't align with these expectations and doesn't embody the ideal image of a goetic prince, was profoundly destabilizing for her.

However unappealing the things she was groomed to wait for may have been, or even if she accepted them without question, they still were a certainty, they were something which she was prepared for. It feels accurate that someone like Stella wouldn't react to this sudden freedom with delight, but resentment— and disdain when it comes to Stolas' inability to play the game, so to say. Although there probably also was a perverse kind of relief beneath it all: she wasn't just a victim of her circumstances anymore — whether she ever saw or consciously acknowledged herself as one or not — but also an agent within them, as well as a beneficiary of them. 

Stolas is of higher status than Stella, but he's socially weaker than her: he's meek and solitary, seemingly unfit of his role as prince, hardly a man even in her and her friends' eyes. This is what allows her to have leverage over him, because she revels in her role— or so it’s seemed so far, at least. Her actions must be understood as her way of lashing out and establishing control in the only way she knows how: through cruelty, just like when she was a child.

This is a feature of the Goetia family and institutions like it, not a bug: people recreate the same cycles of violence that they experienced in their lives, and they become enforcers of the system if they feel that they benefit from it, regardless of the damage that that same system may have caused them.

Regardless of what leads Stella to be abusive towards Stolas, ideas such as that she should have been “grateful” for having been married off to him, of all people, is a deeply insensitive perspective. It doesn't matter that Stolas is gay and good at heart, it doesn't matter that they could have been allies if she had just been willing to open herself up to him, not if the ultimate goal isn't to point out just how deeply harmful and insidious the Goetia family and its convictions are, because such a view insinuates that the mere absence of violence should be enough to appease someone. It downplays the psychological and emotional toll of lack of agency and coercion, and it doesn't account for how systems of oppression operate.

Chapter 6: All The Way To The Chapel

Title reference: Family Tree by Ethel Cain.

Stolas' fears of being a monster and tormentor to Blitz are a reflection of his lived experience, but I don't believe that he directly equates his situation with Blitz to his marriage with Stella in the way most people think. Someone did have full control over the course of his life, but that person was not Stella: a close look reveals his father; a farther look, the way in which the Goetia family functions as a whole.

Stella and Stolas' marriage is shaped not only by direct, interpersonal abuse, but also by their position within a rigid social network with rules and expectations that affect them both. Stolas' way of coping with these circumstances was by retreating inward, choosing passivity to both bear with his situation and for the sake of Octavia. By contrast, Stella violently externalizes her feelings, which led her to be physically and verbally abusive toward Stolas for not embodying her mental image of how a Goetia should be. Their relationship was one of abuse, but relegating the conversation to just their personal dynamic oversimplifies the broader power structures that are woven in the fabric of Helluva Boss— whether the show recognizes or is willing to acknowledge their presence in more depth or not.

The marriage between them was inherently coercive at the outset, an obligation which stemmed from external societal pressure. Both were expected to fulfil their duties regardless of their wants, and producing an heir was one of these duties.

Arranged marriage is a deprivation of agency, and this very nature makes it so that neither party can ever truly consent to intercourse. This socially and structurally imposed duress, however, does not inherently translate into assault— not in a direct way, as it's often intended.

Stolas and Stella were both under the pressure of having to conform to their roles, and with this context in mind, my impression is that the claim that Stella raped Stolas stems from a desire to victimize him and vilify her beyond the show's actual intention. In a situation which demanded sex for the sake of progeny, a foretold progeny, Stolas' passivity feels like his way of enduring it in a way that allowed him to be as emotionally and physically disengaged from Stella as possible. This makes for a tremendously unhealthy and dysfunctional dynamic, and Stella despises him all the more for it — that's not how a man should act — but rape is an exertion of power and control, as well as an expression of feelings of entitlement to someone else's body, and I object to the belief that Helluva Boss even remotely wants to suggest that something of the sort occurred between them. As I previously mentioned, though, it feels like there's an eagerness to ignore the complexity of Stella and Stolas' circumstances for the purpose of imposing a rigid victim-perpetrator lens to an aspect of their marriage that's entirely out of both their hands, and it partially feels like this is all because some would find it “fitting” that Stella would do such a thing — either by pressuring Stolas or by directly forcing herself on him — since she's altogether emotionally and physically abusive toward him already. It's a stance that somewhat obliquely implies that domestic violence must include sexual assault in order for it to be truly severe, which is an unfortunate consequence of this inclination to aggravate Stella’s cruelty.

I do concur that what she did at their anniversary party was sexual harassment, however I don't believe that her enjoyment of his humiliation in a public context proves in any way that she was similarly foul in private: Stella wields social power over Stolas, she enjoys it, and that was the perfect context for her to elevate her image by undermining his.

Stella's behaviour makes her an aggressor in many ways, but this proclivity to a black or white mentality on a fronts stems from the refusal to acknowledge the complexities which are inherent to their situation. It's troubling for abusive behaviour to be attributed to “someone's nature”, it's troubling for people to deny that abusers do what they do not because they're plainly evil, not because they're shallow, but because they can justify their actions to themselves by following an internal logic that puts them in the right. And it's troubling for people to deny the reality that abusers can be victims too, and that their behaviour does not take away from this fact.

The Goetia family's inner workings ensured that neither Stella nor Stolas had true agency, ever. Stella may be Stolas' direct villain, but the truth remains that once upon a time two children were groomed, and later on two teenagers who'd likely barely stumbled into adulthood had to respond to two families and a king's demands for an heir. Yes, it's awful that a gay boy had to marry and lay with a girl. It's just as awful that said girl had to marry him and have a child with him. It's harrowing, like it's harrowing that the broader systemic forces which made this happen go ignored for the sake of reaching for an interpretation of debatable legitimacy to justify a war on a fictional character in the name of another.

Chapter 7: Nothing In The World Belongs To Me

Title reference: My Love Mine All Mine by Mitski.

This is a limited edition enamel pin from 2021. I apologize for the way it's presented, I wasn't able to find a picture of it in decent quality — shame on me — and thus opted to rely on this edited image. I don't trust merchandise to be a consistently reliable tool for the purpose of character analysis, but I find that this one illustrates part of what I want to argue rather well.

Stella’s hold on Octavia is not that of a loving mother, as she's remarkably presenting her as an object of significance rather than cradling her like a child. There's an angle of pride to such a gesture: Stella's purpose and worth in the family was contingent on her ability to produce an heir, and Octavia’s existence is evidence that she fulfilled her role. Octavia isn't just Stella’s daughter, she's the symbol of her status, and at this point she may even be of greater importance to her than Stolas was. Her husband was disgraceful, an embarrassment who maybe was starting to drag her down as well rather than making her look good by comparison. For how humiliating it was to affront the rest of the family in such a way, divorcing Stolas was possible because Octavia remains— her accomplishment remains. Her daughter is her badge of honour, but also something akin to a shield, an angle which the pin illustrates rather well: holding something in front of oneself is a defensive gesture, and Stella’s face being concealed supports the idea that she wants people to see her for her asset rather than simply see her person. There is also an element of control to such a posture — Via does rather look like a doll in her arms — however, considering the show's direction thus far, I'd hazard the guess that Stella believes to have a claim over her daughter as an object, but not as an individual.

The doubt remains, though: does Stella in any capacity love Octavia, or is her daughter simply a signifier that she's accomplished her role? I don't believe that the current state of her character allows for a certain claim to be made in either direction… However, while I can rationalize why they exist, I do think that there's a fundamental flaw to binary questions of this kind, for their underlying premise is that emotions and feelings have a qualitative component to them, and that love is an inherently positive force. The emotion or feeling of love itself is neither good nor bad, and the way it manifests hinges on spatial and temporal context. Parenthood has always had a component of legacy, ownership, and control to it, and this would be even more accentuated in an aristocratic context: it's the groundwork upon which the institution of the family is built— a fundamental power imbalance. It's the reason abuse is such a common phenomenon in settings of this kind. 

Helluva Boss is ultimately a sentimental and sappy show, and while it may never take into account or care to dive in such uncomfortable realities, from an external point of view, I don't think it's incorrect or improper to say that Stella loves what Octavia's presence says about her, and that that in itself can translate into a form of affection towards her person as well, however twisted it may be, as well as self-serving in nature. It's not what anyone would consider a good kind of love, especially from the perspective of a child, but it's better than indifference or revulsion, I suppose, and I'm positive that Stella doesn't feel either of those things for Octavia.

Chapter 8: From Row Point Of View

Title reference: My Heart Still Beats by Maria Mena.

Stella hasn't ever been shown to be caring towards Octavia — there was no time or space for it even if she were capable of such a feat — yet she has never been hostile towards her either, neither directly nor by implication. It hasn't escaped me that the only family portraits in which Stella is smiling are the ones where Octavia isn't a small owlette anymore, and it makes me wonder if she maybe has some aversion towards young children.

While it wouldn't excuse her neglect, which may also be attributed to her noble status and the presumption that childcare is a servant's job, it wouldn't surprise me if she did. Clearly she was little present throughout her childhood — as suggested by her exclusion from Via’s drawings or by the fact that she wouldn't offer her comfort when she asked — but the fact that she brought her along when leaving the house before the divorce and was upset at the thought of Stolas "turning Octavia against her" indicate that she has at least a practical interest in cultivating a tepid relationship with her daughter now that she's older, if an emotionally stunted one. Considering that despite everything Octavia gets upset with Stolas on her behalf as well and is willing to — albeit hesitantly — lean on her for support, she must have done a good enough job at making her daughter... if nothing else, not despise her.

This is why Stella has the potential to start having a bigger influence on Octavia now. Stolas' affair with Blitz found him unable to juggle its consequences, his inner struggles, the changes to his life, his wants, his responsibilities as a father, and so on. Octavia felt a growing sense of alienation from him for a long time before reaching a breaking point, but for however openly violent towards him Stella became, she remained the same towards her: Stella doesn't have an emotional bond with her, but she's never made her feel abandoned either. It's important to also keep in mind that, as far as Octavia knows, Stella is resentful and retaliating against Stolas for having been cheated on, rather than escalating a pre-existing abusive dynamic beyond closed doors. The negative rebound that Stella’s actions have on her is still blatant, but as an emotional complexity it's different to process and grapple with than being privy to long-term domestic violence.

Even though in S2E1: The Circus Stella was ultimately dismissive of Octavia, her words at the anniversary party — "I'm glad one egg fell out of me, [...]" — were a means to not-so-indirectly degrade Stolas, not a deliberate, malicious attempt to objectify or disregard her daughter. Something similar to this happens in S2E12: Sinsmas: "He thinks he's going to talk to his daughter" isn't a freudian slip which betrays a rejection of Octavia on her part, it's a centering of the fact that she's depriving Stolas of the chance to restore his emotional connection with her— and that she's enjoying doing it. Another interesting detail is that in S2E4: Western Energy she wasn't remotely concerned by the thought of Octavia fully inheriting her father's wealth, whereas Andrealphus very pointedly was, and her willingness to follow his follow his plans is based on her eagerness to further damage Stolas, not to prevent Octavia from coming into her birthright.

Ultimately, a conviction that I'm very firm in is that Stella would never purposefully harm Octavia. She'll use her to hurt Stolas, she'll not think twice about letting her get caught up in schemes and manipulations if these benefit her, she'll be inconsiderate of her feelings, but she would never do or allow something to happen to her. Not out of love, but out of self-interest: Octavia is the value by which she is appraised, and she would never stand for her position to be compromised in such a way.

This most prominent aspect of Stella’s character — her concerns with image and status — is particularly interesting, because it creates a curious, seeming contraction when it comes to Octavia.

When talking about parenthood within the Goetia family, one can't not use Paimon as a reference. He exists within the same system of aristocratic expectations and posturing as Stella, but his absence and neglect are much more pronounced than hers. Furthermore, Paimon is an archetypal pater familias: his authority over Stolas was absolute, a signifier that family honour takes precedence over all, and that individual agency is subordinate to the will of its head. As such, Paimon was greatly concerned with Stolas' behaviour and presentation, because they would have reflected on him.

What's interesting about this is that Stella was greatly concerned with Stolas' behaviour and presentation for the same reason as well, yet Octavia seems to have been granted a surprising amount of personal freedom— certainly more than her or Stolas were ever allowed at her age. Much of this is to be attributed to Stolas' involvement in her upbringing, but the reveal remains unchanged: Stella never interfered or tried to influence her daughter's self-expression. That's an interesting choice to make in a context where your child is a projection of your image. Is she maybe willing to let Octavia have her own individuality (like I obliquely alleged in the previous chapter), or is this going to change now that Octavia isn't just Stolas' "precautionary" heir? Each path has much potential to it, and this is pure speculation on my part, but either one could serve as a point of contrast between Stella and Andrealphus in the long run, should the show choose to dwell on the differences between them.

While Stella sees in Octavia the proof of her worth, Andrealphus sees her as a tool in his ascension to power… He used to, at least, before he made her hostile to him in his eagerness to hurt Stolas. There's also the matter of Octavia’s inheritance: her coming of age cannot be that far off, and even if he somehow managed to subjugate her, Andrealphus is not the kind of man who'd be satisfied with leading from the shadows, while Stella has no such aspirations.

Stella and Andrealphus share many priorities, but this difference in perspective and relation to Octavia could drive a wedge between them as their respective goals evolve, and it would be compelling to see two otherwise aligned characters diverge in their villainy.