Chapter 11…
The Kagerou Princess Meets the Demon King
A cool sensation brushed gently against her cheek—
Felicia awoke.
As she slowly opened her eyes, she was met by a pair of vivid crimson eyes gazing down at her. Illuminated by moonlight, they gleamed with an eerie beauty.
(So beautiful…)
They were the same bewitching eyes she had glimpsed before losing consciousness.
Yet those eyes peered out from the hollow sockets of a grotesque goat’s skull.
(The land of the dead…?)
Was this a place where beings not of this world lived?
If so—perhaps she could see her mother and brother again.
(Mother… Brother… I want to see you…)
Tears welled up, blurring her vision. The red eyes wavered, shimmering amid the haze of tears.
But as Felicia’s awareness slowly returned, she realized that the cool touch on her cheek came not from some ghostly chill—but from the hand of the one who possessed those eyes.
The goat’s skull was merely a mask.
The touch was gentle, unmistakably human—not the cold grasp of a reaper or demon.
That hand softly wiped away the tears at the corner of her eye.
Felicia looked around slowly.
As her gaze shifted, flames began flickering to life—poof, poof—one by one, on the nearby candlesticks, as though in response to her eyes.
No other human figures were visible besides the one wearing the goat’s mask.
Then why were the flames lighting themselves?
(It’s almost as if… someone invisible is here…)
Felicia gazed absently at the swaying candlelight, lost in thought.
The softly illuminated room looked like a chamber in a grand mansion.
Though sparsely furnished, every piece of decor was refined and stately, exuding quiet luxury.
She was lying upon a large, canopied bed.
(I’m… alive…)
The realization of life struck her—and at once, the memory of the attackers flashed through her mind.
Cold sweat broke out on her skin.
Remembering the murderous intent aimed at her, she shuddered.
Fear surged back, her breathing turned shallow, and her heart began pounding rapidly.
If no one had intervened at that moment, she would surely have died.
Though she had nearly lost her will to live—to find meaning in life—when faced with true death, her body trembled with terror.
Was this instinct—the primal force of all living things?
Just as fear threatened to overtake her again, her hand was gently clasped.
“Breathe slowly. It’s all right now.”
A calm, deep voice—gentle and enveloping, with a strange note of nostalgia—reached her ears.
Unconsciously, Felicia gripped the hand that held hers more tightly.
“It’s all right. Now, slowly breathe out… and then breathe in.”
Following the voice’s instruction, she closed her eyes and repeated the slow rhythm of breath.
At some point, just as her brother used to do, a gentle hand began to stroke her hair.
The warmth of that hand—both the one she held and the one that soothed her—seemed to whisper reassurance: You’re safe now.
Gradually, calm spread through her chest.
Her breathing evened out, and her racing heartbeat began to settle.
