Kidnapped Princess C18

Chapter 18

“F-finally… it’s over…”

I slumped back into the chair, utterly drained. Elvin handed me a glass of iced water with a sympathetic look. My throat, raw from hours of talking, burned as the cold water slid down.

This must be what it feels like to find an oasis in the desert. The chill trickled down my throat, reviving me from near death.

“I can finally breathe again.”

“The opposition from the Elder Council was intense, Your Majesty. They mistake your patience for weakness.”

Just as I’d predicted, the moment Dylan left, the Elders barged in—in droves. There were far more of them than I’d expected, each bringing a different complaint.

Some objected simply because she was human, but to my surprise, many of them seemed more upset because they had their own designs on the position of Demon Queen.

It explained why there were always rumors about female demons sneaking into my chambers at night—apparently, they’d all been eyeing that seat for themselves.

I recalled one particular Elder’s outburst:

“Your Majesty! How can we allow a mere human to be Demon Queen? There are plenty of fine demonesses who would be delighted to serve you!”

To which I had replied, “Sorry, not my type.”

The whole thing played out exactly as I expected. What I didn’t expect was to see Dylan caught between them—dragged along, standing there with an exasperated expression among the wrinkled crowd.

“I have already heard the Demon King’s will,” he had told them.

“We have not! We’ll hear it from His Majesty directly!” they barked back.

And so I repeated the same explanation I’d given Dylan earlier. When I mentioned that Luminas’s divine power rivaled that of Apellius, the legendary hero, they were stunned speechless. The moment one of them suggested killing her before she could become a threat, I lost my temper completely.

Thankfully, Dylan stepped in, embellishing my arguments with his own persuasive flair. He added a few barbs against humans that made me cringe, but the Elders, at least, were convinced.

“If that is truly His Majesty’s will… then we shall obey.”

At last, they left.

Some continued to grumble all the way out, but honestly—getting through the day without bloodshed was miracle enough. Still, one problem remained.

“Elvin,” I said, rubbing my temples, “we have records of every demon who’s gone down to the human realm, right?”

“Yes, Your Majesty.”

“Do you think Dylan’s claim holds water?”

Dylan had left me with something to think about—a piece of information too serious to ignore.

“Knowing him,” I said, “he wouldn’t say something baseless. If there was no chance it was true, he’d have stayed silent.”

“That’s what troubles me,” Elvin murmured, stroking his chin.

He knew Dylan’s nature well too. The man never spoke unless he was sure. He’d investigate, verify, and only report after resolving the issue himself. The fact that he came to me personally meant this was serious—and unresolved.

I tapped my fingers against the armrest, lost in thought.

“The prophecy did descend. Right after I made my wish to the gods.”

Dylan had claimed that the prophecy had been altered.

I didn’t doubt him. The prophecy’s arrival was real, but changes were possible. And thinking back on it… the original version had felt off.

“The god who loves all living things,” I muttered. “Even if He’s foolish, would He really send a prophecy that would make humans and demons go to war? Why tell the humans instead of me directly?”

A god who supposedly loves both sides would never provoke conflict on purpose.

He loves all beings—saint or sinner—and detests warfare. Every time one broke out, He’d send a hero to restore balance.

If I bent over backward to be charitable, maybe the prophecy was meant to reveal my destined partner—a bond that would bring harmony to both realms.

That was why Dylan said the prophecy must have been altered. He’d found something odd—he claimed one of the human priests carried an unnatural aura.

Coming from him, that wasn’t something I could dismiss.

Dylan’s current duty was to monitor demons who made pacts with humans—those who traded power for souls. Because of that, he held the title of Count in the human realm, maintaining a flawless noble disguise that let him blend seamlessly among mortals.

If he said something was wrong, something was wrong.

So, what had happened with the prophecy? If it hadn’t truly come from the god, then who—or what—had forged it? And how had they made it appear divine?

Could the priests have faked it? Unlikely. There would have been dozens of witnesses to the descent of such a message. The only explanation was that the content itself had been tampered with—before anyone saw it.

By magic, perhaps? I’d once peeked at the prophecy’s inscribed tablet through a scrying crystal, so I knew its form.

“No demon would dare touch a divine artifact like that,” I muttered. “Unless… a priest struck a deal with one.”

I frowned. No matter how I spun it, there were too many missing pieces.

“So it seems someone wanted to ignite war between humans and demons,” Elvin said grimly.

“Exactly. I’ve already asked for the list of demons currently mingling with the human realm. We’ll see if anything stands out. But for now—let’s go get Luminas.”

I glanced out the window.

And froze.

The sun had already sunk below the horizon.

“It’s—night already?!”

“Well, Your Majesty was occupied with the Elders for quite some time. And your vassals came to report on the war situation afterward. It’s only natural. Surely that isn’t a problem?”

“Of course it’s a problem!”

“Ah! My apologies! You must be tired—”

“That’s not it!”

How many times must I tell them—the daily cycle of demons and humans is different!

I’d promised I’d finish early and fetch her myself, and now look at this! It was already night!

Because of our erratic schedules—sometimes working two days straight—I hadn’t even noticed the time slipping away.

“She probably ate alone, too…”

I teleported straight to my office. Luminas’s location appeared on the tracking crystal—right outside my office door.

There she was.

“Miss, His Majesty is very busy,” Renya was saying gently. “Please, let’s go back to your room.”

Luminas sat on the floor, hugging her knees, her head bowed. Renya tried to coax her up, but the child didn’t budge.

When I approached, I stopped short.

Her face was streaked with tears, cheeks puffed from crying.

“….”

My heart twisted.

I crossed the distance in a single stride and crouched before her.

“Luminas, I’m sorry,” I said softly. “I made you wait far too long, didn’t I?”

She didn’t answer. Didn’t even lift her head.

There was something off—something more than just being lonely.

Renya leaned in, whispering hesitantly, “When the young lady came to see you, some demons said things to her… unpleasant things, I believe. She was already upset when I found her.”

I exhaled slowly. “And you did what, exactly?”

“I… turned away for only a moment. I’m sorry.”

I rubbed my face, fighting frustration. She must’ve overheard something cruel—something no child should hear. That was on me. I should’ve kept her inside.

“There are so many people better than me…”

Her voice was small and trembling. “They said… you’re different from me. You’re a demon, and I’m just human.”

Ah. So she hadn’t even known that much.

“Do you dislike me because I’m a demon?” I asked quietly.

She shook her head hard. “No! It’s not that. A man with weird antennae told me I can’t stay here. That I can’t be your bride. That humans don’t belong here, and I should leave. He said one day you’ll hate me too—because I’m weak.”

Tears welled again, spilling over as her voice broke.

Of course she believed it. She’d lived her whole life surrounded by whispers, taunts, and rejection. One cruel comment was enough to reopen all those wounds.

Who the hell said that?

I didn’t know which bastard had the audacity to say such things, but if I found him, I’d sew his damn mouth shut.

Luminas clutched at my robes, her tiny fingers trembling.

“Will you abandon me, too? Like before? Everyone hates me—they said I’m disgusting, that I should disappear. No one ever wanted me. But you were different. You said I was needed. You said I could stay. Please… let me stay here.”

I had told her all she needed to do was eat well and grow up healthy—but those words clearly hadn’t been enough.

Her voice cracked as she tried to hold back sobs, her small body shaking. She gripped my collar like I was the last thing keeping her from breaking apart.

Whenever she reached for me like that—asking to be held, clinging to my clothes—it was her silent way of saying don’t leave me.

Her trembling hand felt unbearably fragile. She’d only been here a few days—too soon for her heart to feel secure.

Just what could they have said to make her cry like this?

My chest tightened painfully.

Her clear, glasslike eyes looked up at me, searching for reassurance. I hesitated, unsure of what to say—and that hesitation made her eyes dim further, sinking into despair.

“Luminas.”

At her name, she flinched and looked up.

I smiled gently.

“I must have made you feel lonely today,” I said softly. “That’s my fault. But it hurts, you know… when you doubt how much I care about you.”