Chapter 19…
The Princess of Mirage Is Captured by the Demon King.
From the wide windows of the dining room, Felicia could see the courtyard with its old fountain.
Though modest in size, it overflowed with color—flowers bloomed in vivid competition, and the trees were neatly trimmed. Everything appeared perfectly tended. Perhaps there were other attendants besides Hugo?
(Come to think of it, the bath had been filled with hot water before I even noticed…)
As she gazed at the garden, Johan spoke as if reading her thoughts.
“The only humans living in this castle are Hugo and me. Humans, that is.
You can’t see them, but there are familiars all throughout the castle.
They take care of all the small chores. —However, from today, there will be three humans.”
Felicia understood, then, that it must have been one of his familiars who had drawn her bath.
But three humans? She blinked in confusion.
“Three?”
“Yes. The third, of course, is you, Felicia.”
Johan stated this as though it were the most natural thing in the world, leaving Felicia even more bewildered.
“But… I’m on my way to marry into the neighboring kingdom…”
“That’s no longer a problem. That engagement is void.”
“Eh?”
“You’ll live here now.”
She couldn’t make sense of it at all. That marriage had been arranged so suddenly and forcibly—why had it been canceled just as abruptly?
“Please don’t worry, Lady Felicia,” Hugo said gently, stepping in to help her confusion.
“Lord Johan has already taken care of all the necessary arrangements.”
But that answer explained nothing. She still had no idea why things had turned out this way.
“But why…?”
“I’ve already instructed the attendants who returned to the capital to report that your whereabouts are unknown.”
“What?”
“Don’t worry. While it hasn’t been made public, your father and the king have been informed that you’re being sheltered here.”
“Sheltered…? What do you mean by that…?”
“Would you rather marry that lecherous old man from the neighboring country?”
Johan cut her off, staring directly into her eyes. His crimson gaze shimmered enchantingly, and her heart gave a startled thump.
(Does he know the man I was supposed to marry?)
Felicia shook her head slightly, hesitantly. Truthfully, she hadn’t wanted to marry him—an elderly man even older than her father, and with a terrible reputation. But could she really refuse a union that had been arranged as a matter of duty? Her stepmother, Yvette, had told her that the match had been decided at her father Christophe’s insistence, while he was away on official business.
“If it wasn’t a man you wished to marry, then there’s no issue. Let’s eat breakfast.”
As though to end the conversation, Johan unfolded his napkin.
Realizing there was nothing more she could do, Felicia followed suit. As she spread her napkin, she suddenly caught sight of the lavender dress she was wearing and gasped.
“Your Excellency, I borrowed a change of clothes from the closet. Thank you very much.”
She hurried to express her gratitude, realizing she’d completely forgotten amidst all the confusion.
“Those are all yours, Felicia. Use them as you wish.”
“Mine? But… there were so many…”
It was hard to believe that such an array of dresses had been prepared for her. Surely, they must have been meant for someone else—someone important to Johan.
When she thought of that—of someone precious to Johan—her chest tightened painfully. A strange, constricting feeling, as though her heart were being gripped.
(What… what is this feeling?)
It felt like something inside her she had never known before was awakening, and that, too, unsettled her.
“There’s no one else to wear them. If you don’t, they’ll simply go to waste,” Johan said, brushing aside her hesitation.
Oddly enough, that made the pain in her chest ease just a little.
Johan gazed steadily into her wavering eyes and spoke again, his tone soft but firm, as if to calm her fears.
“I don’t lie. Every one of those dresses was made for you, Felicia.”
“…I understand. Thank you.”
His gentle assurance soothed her, and she nodded. That same strange sense of safety she’d felt the night before washed over her once more. Somehow, she believed him—believed every word. Her tight chest loosened, and she let out a quiet sigh of relief.
She still wondered why so many dresses perfectly fitted to her had been prepared beforehand, but she sensed he wouldn’t answer even if she asked. Whatever the reason, one truth was clear: a place for her had been prepared here.
When Hugo, having finished setting the table, bowed and left the room, Felicia and Johan began their breakfast together.
