Chapter 71
“The Demon King’s Daughter Speaks of Her Dreams”
Now, let us speak a little about how Lilicia came to arrive in the human world.
The Obsidian Tower pierced the heavens in countless layers, and the wind of darkness coiled around the castle’s edges.
The grand hall of the Demon King’s castle gleamed more than usual.
Lights fell in thin streaks across the jet-black floor, tracing paths all the way up to the throne.
Below that throne, a single princess stood with regal composure.
Lilicia.
Her deep violet eyes, reminiscent of the waters of night, pierced straight toward the throne.
“Papa. I want to go to the academy.”
A breath of silence followed.
Then, the large fingers interlaced between the throne’s armrests slowly unclasped.
“—The academy, you say?”
The Demon King’s voice was low, echoing off the stone walls before finally returning to his ears.
“You would place our daughter within a gathering of humans?”
“Yes.”
Lilicia did not falter.
“I want to learn ‘reason.’ Just reading from books is no longer enough.”
“Reason, reason, reason… From your childhood, it has always been this.”
The Demon King rested his fists on the armrests, leaning forward slightly.
“Not poetry, song, or dance—but reason.”
“Because it’s beautiful.”
Her answer was immediate.
“The moment when formulas fit perfectly and the world becomes still for a single step… that is magic, Papa.”
“Magic is our monopoly.”
“That’s why I want to see your magic and their reason side by side.”
Lilicia’s voice was straightforward.
“I don’t want to just read about it in books. I want to breathe there, look into the eyes of those standing before their blackboards, and learn.”
“Always ‘there, there’… you…”
The Demon King restrained the urge to click his tongue.
A retainer took a step forward, but the Demon King’s hand stopped him.
“It is dangerous.”
He spoke briefly, decisively.
“This is not our territory. The rules, the order, everything is different. Your name carries weight. A name so heavy is easily targeted.”
“If I’m targeted, I will avoid it.”
“And if you cannot avoid it?”
“I will cut them down.”
“And if you cannot?”
“I will call for help.”
“And if no help comes?”
“…I will survive until it does.”
The Demon King was astonished—and at the same time, slightly proud.
(Strong. She takes after me in that.)
Yet as a father, his spine still ached at nodding.
“Study in the castle.”
The Demon King repeated his usual answer.
“There are mountains of books. I can summon sages. There is no reason to go outside.”
“There are plenty of reasons.”
Lilicia counted them on her fingers.
“First, because I want to. Second, their reason differs from our magic—it conveys its essence well through words. And then—”
“Enough. Do not push through with words like ‘want’ or ‘essence,’ like poetry.”
The Demon King almost stood, stopping just in time.
“Listen. I am both your father and a king. A king cannot lightly let his daughter go outside.”
“Then allow it as my father.”
She charged head-on.
“As a king, you need not allow it. As a father, push me forward.”
“…Brazen.”
The Demon King put his hand to his forehead and exhaled deeply.
“This brazen spirit… from me as well, then.”
“From you,” Lilicia laughed.
“Please.”
The Demon King prolonged the silence.
The retainers held their breaths in unison.
The tall windows of the grand hall hummed faintly in the distant wind.
Eventually, the Demon King shook his head briefly.
“I will not allow it.”
Lilicia’s eyelids flickered silently.
The muscles of her cheeks tensed slightly.
In the next moment, she turned her back.
She took not a single step up the stairs, only one step deeper into the hall.
Without looking back, she spoke clearly.
“—Then I will not speak to you anymore.”
The retainers murmured in unison.
The Demon King snorted and chuckled with his shoulders.
“A child’s threat. She’ll tire of it in three hours.”
“Not three hours—I won’t waste a single moment.”
Lilicia said that and turned away.
Her footsteps were quiet but irresistible.
The hall doors closed.
The Demon King leaned back in his throne, covering his face with one hand.
(…It has begun.)
Morning of the First Day
The long table in the great dining hall.
As the silver lids were lifted with a clatter, the aroma spread in succession.
The Demon King sat in his chair, signaling with his chin, “Eat,” as usual.
And as usual, Lilicia should have said, “Thank you for the meal.”
—but she did not.
She sat.
Held her knife and fork at the correct angles.
But did not open her mouth.
Even when her plate was empty, she remained silent.
When the Demon King gently offered her another plate, she returned only a smile, remaining silent.
At noon, passing each other in the corridor, she merely nodded and spoke no words.
In the evening, outside the library tower, she carried a mountain of books and did not speak.
At night, in front of her room.
The Demon King called, clearing his throat intentionally.
“Hey, Lilicia.”
She turned.
Her violet eyes glowed softly.
Yet she did not speak.
(By the second day, she will say something… right?)
Second Day
She said nothing.
Third Day
Nothing.
Fourth Day
The retainers grew restless.
All the little creatures in the castle—from lizards in the corridors to bats in the bell tower—stirred in the changing atmosphere.
The head maid approached cautiously.
“Your Majesty. The princess…”
“She is fine.”
“Her voice…”
“It can sound. It can, but she refuses to let it.”
“…Yes, that is correct.”
An elder retainer suggested,
“Your Majesty, perhaps you should yield one way.”
“Should I yield, or should my daughter?”
“The princess is giving a grand speech in silence.”
“A noisy speech.”
“Not a sound is being made.”
“…Noisy.”
Fifth Day
The Demon King could no longer bear it and ordered his scribe,
“Bring paper.”
He took up a brush and wrote a short message in heavy strokes:
“I understand your wish to go. Give me time to consider. —Father”
A little imp carried it, sliding it under her door.
Moments later, a reply slid from beneath the door:
“I have already given you years to consider. Now give me your conclusion. —Daughter”
The Demon King placed his hand on his forehead, glaring at the ceiling carvings.
“…How do I move this trapped piece?”
Sixth Day
The Demon King proposed adding keys to the library.
“Let’s open a new floor. Even forbidden books—especially.”
Her reply:
“Thank you. My destination does not change.”
Seventh Day
White flowers bloomed in the garden.
The Demon King picked one to deliver personally, but stopped midway.
“What am I doing?”
(Father. For now, I am a father before a king.)
He knocked on her door.
It opened.
Lilicia had just closed her book at the desk.
Silence.
Eyes met eyes.
The Demon King strode into the room, exhaling:
“I surrender.”
Lilicia’s eyes softened after a blink.
Still, she did not speak.
The Demon King smiled wryly.
“…You may speak.”
At last, Lilicia parted her lips.
“—Really?”
“Really.”
The Demon King straightened his spine and continued in a low voice:
“As a father, I approve. I will allow you to attend the academy.”
Lilicia pulled out her chair, stood, and approached—stopping a step short.
She bowed deeply, politely.
When she lifted her head, her violet eyes shone with light.
“Thank you, Papa.”
“But there are conditions.”
The Demon King raised one finger.
“Send a letter every week. Use the magical messenger pigeon. Invisible to humans, our pigeons.”
“Every week.”
“The day is set: Sunday evening there. Without fail.”
“Very well. I will send them without fail.”
“Begin each message with ‘The grapes are sweet.’”
“…A code phrase?”
“Even a hundred miles away, I can recognize your handwriting. But better safe than sorry.”
“Understood, Papa.”
“And if even once the pigeon does not arrive—”
The Demon King’s voice darkened.
“I will open the gate and come fetch you. Territories, rules, etiquette—none will matter. As a father.”
Lilicia nodded seriously.
“Yes. If the pigeon is delayed, I will write the reason as well.”
“One more thing.”
The Demon King tried to look stern, but a corner of his mouth lifted slightly.
“If you declare you will not speak again, I will be the first not to speak.”
Lilicia chuckled.
“That would be troublesome.”
“Indeed.”
The Demon King laughed too.
The weight in the air finally began to ease.
“Guards will accompany you.”
“Of course.”
“How many—”
“Too many will attract attention, so a moderate number.”
“Your ‘moderate’ is usually considered ‘many’ by the world.”
“Then, nineteen.”
“Not exactly moderate.”
“But it will surely be fun.”
“…Whenever you say that, something usually happens.”
The Demon King shook his head and spread his hands.
“Very well. Nineteen guards. Recruit volunteers. Their names will change for use there. —Departure in twenty days. Do not neglect preparations.”
Lilicia straightened her spine and placed her hands together before her chest.
“I will obey your orders.”
Silence softened.
A maid in the corner exhaled with relief, a corridor lizard rested its chin on the wall, and a single bat in the bell tower quietly clapped upside down.
The Demon King began to walk toward the door, then paused and looked back.
“Lilicia.”
“Yes?”
“I do not forbid you from talking about ‘father’ there. But if you wish to be selfish, write to me first before speaking.”
“Yes.”
Lilicia smiled and nodded.
“All records of my selfishness will be written ‘to Papa.’”
“Very well.”
The Demon King chuckled in his throat and touched the door.
The heavy hinge opened with a sigh-like sound.
In the corridor, his retainers approached.
“Your Majesty, you look weary.”
“I am not weary.”
The Demon King rubbed his forehead.
“Just a little calm has returned.”
“The princess is happy.”
“Of course. She is my daughter.”
“And you, Majesty?”
“…Of course.”
As he walked, the Demon King whispered a short prayer in his heart.
(May there be no week without a pigeon.)
And added, in a voice no one could hear:
(—May she meet a good teacher there.)
The reflection of his profile in the obsidian window seemed slightly softer.
He was surprised by the change, and cleared his throat slightly.
The wind of the Demon King’s castle smelled sweeter than usual—perhaps because someone used a little more sugar in the kitchen.
Or perhaps it was the sound of a quiet turning page of his daughter’s future.
Thus ended Lilicia’s “grand speech in silence” in seven days, and both father and king had yielded.
The condition: every week, at evening there, report your safety by magical pigeon.
With wings unseen by others.
Code phrase: The grapes are sweet.
Response must be: Of course, they are sweet.
Clutching the small parchment with these instructions to her chest, Lilicia opened the window.
The distant sky held the promise of a blue she had yet to know.
The wind brushing her cheek carried the scent of travel.
Next to begin was—the uproar of selecting her guards.
Of course, the plan was to proceed quietly, smoothly, and without attracting attention at her destination.
At least, in theory.
