Chapter 179

The Demon King had been moved, throne and all, into the flower garden.

It was not out of respect.

It was because he was still unconscious.

Judging by how his eyes still spun in circles and how he remained completely unresponsive, he was most likely “drunk” — his soul had flown far, far away.

And the one responsible for this situation, Herilet, actually looked a little surprised.

“Ah… how odd? Did I use too much strength just now? I don’t think I did, right? Why is Dielzner still asleep? Sigh… we’re supposed to be discussing something important with Miss Xiarette, yet this man always loses his composure at the most crucial moments. Truly unreliable.”

“Y-Your Majesty… that slap just now didn’t sound light at all. I think I even heard a sonic boom…”

“It’s fine. Since the head of this household is avoiding the conversation, so be it. Miss Xiarette, let’s have a private talk between the two of us.”

“That’s fine… but I don’t think His Majesty the Demon King is avoiding anything…? Wait… he’s still alive, isn’t he?”

“Let’s talk about Sheffy. And about your reasons for coming here.”

“!”

Your Majesty the Demon King, there’s no time to care about whether you’re alive or not right now!

Thump!

Xiarette’s heart clenched and skipped a beat before it began racing uncontrollably.

Even though she had mentally prepared herself, now that this topic had truly arrived, tension still welled up inside her.

Nervousness was one thing—

But giving the proper response was another.

“Yes. I came because of Sheffy. I hope… to earn your approval.”

“Approval? What kind of approval? Approval to be Sheffy’s friend~?”

“Yes… as a friend. But… closer than that.”

“Oh, closer than that… how close, exactly?”

“……”

To be honest, Xiarette truly didn’t understand how the Queen was so certain that her relationship with Sheffy went beyond friendship.

But judging from the Queen’s tone and her subtle hints, Herilet was clearly almost completely sure of it.

Xiarette’s vocabulary was rather limited.

Or perhaps it wasn’t a matter of vocabulary, but of her introverted nature.

She had wanted to avoid saying such things as much as possible, but the Queen, smiling gently, kept pressing her — as if she already knew everything, yet still wished to hear the words from Xiarette herself.

If Xiarette were left on her own, she probably would never have found the courage to speak these words aloud.

But thankfully, in the direction where the fading sunset light fell — there stood Sheffy’s figure.

She was there.

And with her there, there was nothing to fear.

For Sheffy’s sake…

Her sister could do what she never could before!

“I…!”

“Sheffy is actually quite a fragile child.”

“Eh…?”

Xiarette hadn’t expected that the very moment she was about to speak—she would be interrupted.

Herilet was still smiling gently.

At the same time, she slowly crouched down.

She tenderly brushed her fingers over a small flower in the garden’s soil, then gestured for Xiarette to come closer.

Xiarette hesitated for a moment, but Herilet’s gesture was sincere, carrying not the slightest hint of hostility.

Thus, Xiarette straightened her skirt and crouched down beside her.

There, she saw the small flower that Herilet had been gently touching.

—A blossom of deep blue, glowing faintly with a mysterious light.

It stood out among the other flowers. In fact, the very fact that this garden was still full of blooming flowers in late autumn was already quite unusual.

And yet, even among such beauty, that single blue flower held a uniquely mysterious charm.

Herilet brushed it with her fingertips so delicately, as though she were caressing her own child.

Xiarette didn’t know what to say for a moment, so she instead asked back about what the Queen had just said.

“You said… Sheffy is fragile?”

“Yes, Miss Xiarette. Since you came here with Sheffy, that means… you’ve seen her strength, haven’t you?”

“Yes.” With no one else around, Xiarette could speak frankly. “I know that Sheffy’s true power is that of an eight-winged demon.”

“So, that child even told you that… Ah… yes. Throughout the entire history of the Demon Clan, aside from the distant gods, there has never been another existence with eight wings.”

Herilet lightly tapped a petal.

Tiny blue motes of light drifted away from it, dazzlingly beautiful.

Yet, in her eyes, there was no pride in her daughter’s power.

—Instead, they were filled with the helplessness and sorrow of a mother.

“Light and shadow are two sides of the same coin. With great power comes a fragility that others cannot comprehend. No… I do understand her. But I can’t help her. I ache for her, but it’s useless.”

“Your Majesty…?”

Xiarette didn’t quite understand what the Queen meant.

But for some reason, deep within her heart, a faint ache echoed in response.

‘Sister… you must live, stay strong! What’s a terminal illness? Treat it like a cold—hold on and it’ll pass!’

‘If only I had studied medicine sooner… If I were the greatest doctor in the world… If I had more time… could I have found a cure to save you?’

Those words—carved forever in the sea of her memories—resurfaced before fading away again.

As she returned to the present, Xiarette heard Herilet’s voice continue.

It sounded almost like she was telling a story.

“Sheffy wasn’t born with eight wings. Her magical talent was always remarkable. When she was little, we believed she would one day reach the realm of the six-winged. But eight wings… even our royal family is unfamiliar with such a thing. Miss Xiarette, did you know? Sheffy actually loves small animals. She says she likes lively ones, the kind that hop around energetically—healthy ones, free from sickness, bringing warmth and healing to people.”

“Yes… I think I can understand that.”

Healing, life, compassion.

Perhaps all of those were the lingering regrets of her past life, granted now as gifts of redemption to Sheffy.

Herilet nodded slightly, gathering the silver strands of hair that fell over her shoulders and tucking them behind her ear before continuing softly.

“She said she liked them. When she was eight years old, she told me she wanted to raise a Coro Forest Dog.”

“A Coro Forest Dog? That’s lovely. They’re gentle, small, and known for their docile temperament—perfect as pets.”

“Yes… I thought so too. Seeing her cooped up in the Demon King’s Castle every day, learning magic and court etiquette—it must have been dull for her. So, I had someone fetch a beautiful, healthy forest dog from the Coro Forest as a companion for her.”

Xiarette listened with rapt attention, her tension having completely faded away.

Because she wanted to know more—about Sheffy’s past.

The times she wasn’t there to accompany her, the stories that belonged to Sheffy alone in this world.

But not every story was a fairy tale.

Not every story was beautiful.

Herilet pressed the flower down slightly, her eyes filling with deep sorrow and pity.

“In Demon Clan tradition, when we raise a pet, we must form a contract with it. That way, both sides can sense each other’s whereabouts and never get separated. The two also share magic power, allowing the pet to live longer—those of long-lived races always do this. It’s a necessary process for keeping a companion by one’s side. But…”

“The contract process didn’t go well?”

“Yes…”

She released the flower. It still bloomed as before, yet its blue glow was no longer as radiant as it had been.

“Such a thing had never happened before… To form a contract and establish a magic circuit doesn’t require much magic at all. One only needs to offer a mere ten-thousandth of their total magic power to the contracted creature. Even Dielzner and I have never experienced an error in this magic. But… that day, Sheffy was so happy, holding that Coro Forest Dog in her arms, following the ritual, channeling her magic into it, and then…”

“The result… was that the forest dog couldn’t withstand even one ten-thousandth of Sheffy’s magic power, right…?”

“That’s right.” Herilet’s voice softened, trembling faintly as she recalled it. “That Coro Forest Dog exploded instantly in her arms—burst apart into a pool of blood.”

Herilet would never forget the look on Sheffy’s face at that moment.

Still holding her arms in the same gentle posture of embracing the puppy, the traces of a smile—of hope and excitement—had not yet faded from her lips.

But the blood that splattered across her face and body reflected in her once-bright eyes, leaving them empty and hollow.

For days afterward, Sheffy locked herself in her room without saying a word.

She bathed countless times each day, even though not a trace of blood remained.

Little Belith, who had been just a child at the time, would often start crying for no reason. When Herilet asked why, she said she heard her royal sister crying in her room, so she cried too.

But whenever Herilet herself went to Sheffy’s room, hoping to comfort her—she never once saw Sheffy shed a tear.

“Not long after that… Sheffy’s eight wings awakened. But rather than being shocked by that, Dielzner and I only wished she could come out of that shadow sooner. I knew that incident had deeply scarred her heart. She’s a child who cherishes life, yet lives in loneliness… What pained me even more was that Sheffy didn’t need our comfort. A few days later, she walked out of her room on her own.”

When she came out,

She said she was fine.

Even though her eyes were still red, she still said her father, mother, and Belith didn’t need to worry about her.

Even though everyone knew she was forcing a smile, none of them knew where to begin comforting her.

She said everything that needed to be said.

But from that day on—she never again mentioned wanting to raise a pet.

Not even once.

Every time she went out, she would deliberately avoid the Coro Forest.

When people called her a Calamity, and Belith was so angry she gritted her teeth—

Sheffy… she didn’t deny it.

She only gave a faint, bitter smile, turned her head away, and quietly retreated to her room.

She said she was tired.

That she wanted to sleep.

And when she woke up,

She would smile again, that same carefree, thoughtless smile, and say, “I’m fine.”

Because she was strong—she was fragile.

Because she was different—she learned to wear a smile.

“So you see,” Herilet said softly, “whenever that child suddenly says something like ‘I’m sleepy, I’m going to bed,’ or ‘I’m hungry, what’s for dinner,’ it means she’s about to cry again. But she doesn’t want to trouble anyone, so she changes the topic herself, bears it all alone, and hides her sorrow behind ordinary words.”

“Is that… really how it is…” Xiarette’s hand trembled slightly as she clenched her fist, a weak strength in her grip. But she was at least glad—glad that whenever Sheffy said she was hungry, Xiarette always made sure to give her extra portions of her favorite cabbage mushrooms. “I… never knew any of this. She always talks about Belith, or about you and His Majesty… but she never says anything about herself. No, she’s never once spoken about her own pain.”

“Ah… that’s just how she is. She talks endlessly about others but brushes off her own troubles as if they were nothing. Back when she locked herself in her room after the failed contract, that room was so dark. She always tried to act like it didn’t bother her, but ever since then, whenever she’s in a dim, enclosed space, alone… she becomes anxious, starts to tremble, even breaks into a cold sweat. That kind of fragility—that’s the real her. A wound from that time… one that never healed.”

“!”

As Herilet rose from before the blue flower,

Xiarette felt a piercing ache and sorrow seize her heart.

Sheffy feared the dark—Xiarette had known that much. She’d always thought it was a quirk, something inherited from her past life’s personality.

But the truth…?

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