Princess Dorothy of the Siveshus Empire—she perfectly embodied everything people imagined a princess should be. Kind, gentle, a little lively without being overbearing, curious about the world yet never reckless. And most importantly… She was beautiful.
No matter the world, beauty could decide everything. A princess like her was immensely popular among the citizens of the Empire. Wherever she appeared, crowds would gather just to catch a glimpse of her.
Logically, a princess like that should live like a character out of a fairy tale—reading books, living a calm and peaceful life, waiting for the hero destined to be hers.
But…
Still dressed in her formal clothes, Dorothy couldn’t help but throw herself eagerly onto her bed, burying her face in the report she had received from Felyn. She breathed in deeply, greedily.
She could smell the scent of her beloved brother Felyn again. It was wonderful.
She pressed the report against her eternally youthful face, the smile at the corners of her lips twisting ever so slightly.
She had always feared the day Felyn would leave her. But now it seemed… everything was just fine.
Felyn was such a silly. His Divine Affinity was actually negative. A person despised by all the gods in the world could never leave the Siveshus Empire. He would never be accepted anywhere else.
From the moment she came of age, those around her had kept a deliberate distance. Until the day she met Felyn—the one person who held her in his arms the way one would cradle a doll.
Even after she had gathered the courage to tell him that she carried the power of the Demon King within her, Felyn hadn’t minded. He still embraced her, read books with her, snuck with her into the gardens at night, and brought her things she’d never seen before in the royal capital—like the posters of Miss Silafiel.
Felyn once said that the smile of this songstress could heal anything. And slowly, Dorothy began to adore the silver-haired beauty with that gentle, comforting smile.
She hugged the plush doll that Felyn had given her tightly, as if it were him—never willing to let go, not for a lifetime.
As Dorothy was lost in thoughts of Felyn, there was a knock at the door.
“Your Highness, I’ve organized the letters you received this month. Would you like to read them now?”
Very few people knew about the Demon King’s mark on the princess—only the royal family was aware. To the public, she was still their beloved princess. Just like every month, she’d be receiving a mountain of letters from children all across the empire.
She had always claimed she would read every single letter herself, but the truth was… there was only one name she cared to see.
A little boy named “Felyn,” from the Mist District.
“Brother Felyn, you really are trying so hard just to see me.” Dorothy hugged her doll again. Her not-so-childlike chest pressed against it, forming a soft and alluring shape.
“I really should reward you.”
She jumped down from the bed, her pale toes glowing under the warm light. She bent over and dragged out a small box hidden beneath her vanity.
“So beautiful…”
She gently caressed a bracelet inside. It was a special item she had asked Felyn to order for her.
The bracelet was made entirely of magic crystal, with intricate patterns carved on its surface. The inside was lined with soft black leather so it wouldn’t scratch the wrist.
“I should wear it with Brother Felyn tonight…”
Tonight was the night Felyn was supposed to come and serve Dorothy.
As she twirled a strand of her long hair around her finger, she couldn’t help but wonder—why didn’t he say anything in advance?
Even the return address was from the Mist District instead of the Royal Capital. There was no mention in the letter that he’d be coming here. Maybe… he just wanted to secretly test his Divine Affinity to see if he could qualify for the Royal Capital Academy—maybe he wanted to be closer to her.
“Brother Felyn, you really are trying so hard just to see me.”
She clung to the doll again, her chest pressing into it.
“I should reward you for that.”
Dorothy opened an envelope and found ten autograph cards signed by Miss Silafiel herself.
That many autographs… Felyn must have spent countless days and nights collecting them just for her.
“Brother Felyn, you’re always thinking about me.”
Her voice dripped with sweetness as she lovingly stroked the envelope.
What she didn’t know was that there were forty more autographs still being shipped to the Royal Capital, along with one very special item—a farewell letter from Silafiel to Felyn.
That letter was filled with the girl’s honest feelings about the past, and her attempt to act like she’d finally let go of it all.
After putting all the letters away, Dorothy leapt back onto her bed, pressing her face against Felyn’s report once more.
“But why is Brother Felyn coming to the capital…”
She absentmindedly played with her hair, trying to find the reason.
The Siveshus Empire was the only neutral nation in the world. The rest were controlled by the Divine Church. And the Church deeply hated those rejected by the gods.
Dorothy was in a great mood.
Her dear Brother Felyn would likely never leave the Empire.
And if he never left the Empire, he’d forever remain within her reach.
“No, I shouldn’t say I want to ‘control’ Brother Felyn. That would be too disrespectful. What I really mean is… we’ll be together, happily ever after.”
The purple in her eyes deepened. A flush of red rose across her cheeks.
She hugged the doll Felyn gave her tightly—like she was holding him—and didn’t want to let go, not for the rest of her life.
Felyn had once said that the songstress’s smile could heal anything. And Dorothy… had grown to love that girl too. That silver-haired beauty with the soft smile.
Eventually, Dorothy realized something.
If Felyn gave it to her, she would love it.
She loved everything about Felyn.
By the time she realized it, she couldn’t live without him anymore.
She was completely and utterly dependent on the one person who could hold her in his arms.
“Brother Felyn…”
Dorothy had just returned to her bedroom after visiting the church.
She hadn’t even changed clothes, hadn’t chased him down, just collapsed onto her bed.
As a child, she would often sit alone by the window, hugging her doll tightly.
Her most vivid memories weren’t of grand banquets or fancy gowns. It was the tall window at the highest point of the castle—always open.
The sky outside was always so blue… heartbreakingly blue.
The flowers in the palace garden were in full bloom, but their fragrance never reached her cold, quiet room.
She would often see other royal children laughing and playing in the gardens below. But she knew the moment she approached, those laughs would vanish.
Those dolls… belonged to someone else.
Because what she really wanted was for someone to hold her like that.
But she never had anyone.
Even when she came of age, not a single member of the royal family ever held her like a child.
The royal family of the Empire feared that Dorothy might one day replace the king… or the crown prince… and take control of Siveshus.
It wasn’t just the royals who were afraid. The Divine Church feared her too. They didn’t want the Empire to fall into the hands of a Demon King.
So when Dorothy was five years old, the phrase she said most often was:
“Daddy… hug me.”
She would pout and beg sweetly, her childish voice falling to the ground, unnoticed and unanswered.
The king rarely hugged her—he said it wasn’t proper royal etiquette.
Her elders and brothers rarely hugged her either. They feared she might threaten their positions.
This was why her appearance had remained frozen at around fifteen or sixteen. Even though she was now an adult, she still looked like a young girl.
To someone like Felyn, a girl who remained eternally youthful seemed like a gift from the gods.
But not to the rest of the royal family. To them, it was a curse.
Unlike the gods, the Demon King’s power was feared—even among the Siveshus royals. Too much affinity with the Demon King could be dangerous.
Having a high connection with the Demon King wasn’t a blessing. It had to remain within a certain limit. Otherwise, one would be viewed as a mortal incarnation of the Demon King.
The royal family feared Dorothy.
A princess like her… wasn’t supposed to live a life of worry.
Once upon a time, she had dreamed of someone saving her… or saving herself.
A hero carving out their own destiny.
Everything about Dorothy was perfect—but perhaps a little too perfect.
The royal family’s lineage was strong because of their natural affinity with the Demon King. Strong enough to make contact with him.
But Dorothy’s connection was too strong.
So strong that she was born carrying a fragment of the Demon King’s power.
And that was why her appearance had never changed—why she remained a little girl in the eyes of the world, even as she became a woman.
(End of Chapter)