Stolen Crown Princess (Completed Main Story) - Chapter 13

Late at night, Caliph sat with his arms crossed, eyes tightly shut.

It felt as though the sun had only just begun to set, yet now not a trace of light remained.

Even without closing his eyes, all was pitch black—but still, Caliph did not open them.

He couldn’t.

Ibelia had not regained consciousness even as the sun at its zenith sank and the moon rose.

“…Huu.”

A deep sigh escaped through the tightly pressed seam of his lips.

The moment he barely opened his eyes, Ibelia’s deathly pale face filled his vision—prompting another sigh.

Suddenly, the sorrowful sobs he’d heard all evening echoed in his mind.

[Huhh, especially today, khh, you said you were so tired, khh, I should’ve made you rest somehow, I really should have, huhh.]

The maidservant, repeating her tearful lament over and over until she was on the verge of fainting, finally left Ibelia’s side, supported by someone else.

Silence descended instantly. Only then could Caliph think.

Ah, she’d been struggling. Especially today, she’d been exhausted. Yet she’d gone there anyway, compelled by the Empress’s command.

One-dimensional thoughts, sparked by the maid’s lament, lined up methodically in his rigid mind.

The conclusion he reached was self-reproach.

“…Just how much longer must I remain a terrible person to you here?”

The weight of doubt pressing down on him was unbearable—more so than ever before.

Knowing it was irreversible, he’d still chosen only the cruelest words. Aware she was watching, he’d acted kindly toward that damn Lady Lellia of House Net, driving Ibelia to the brink.

His excuse was always the same: he couldn’t let her discover his true identity yet.

His heart was unbearably heavy. But what made it truly unbearable was this: it wasn’t Caliph Dwit who could stay by the fallen Ibelia—it was Liurian Petrov.

Caliph stared blankly at the sleeping Ibelia. Her face, utterly devoid of color, looked as if she’d never awaken again.

And so, fear gripped him suddenly.

What would he do if she never woke? He’d claimed the role of Liurian without hesitation, ready to kill for her sake. But if she never woke, then what would become of him…?

“Oh, Caliph… That’s an uncharacteristic expression.”

Amid his spiraling thoughts, a familiar voice slipped in. He didn’t need to look—he knew it was Felix.

The bedroom door hadn’t opened since he and Ibelia were left alone; when had Felix entered?

Ah, so that ridiculous ability of his includes this as well.

Without moving a muscle, Caliph let out a hollow laugh.

“You’ve had a lot on your mind lately—that’s probably why. Besides, you said your insomnia’s been bad, right?”

“…Yes. The palace physician said something similar—that prolonged sleeplessness has drained your strength.”

“You’ll feel better after a proper rest, so don’t worry and just return to the Crown Prince’s quarters for now. It’s already been hours. You’ve even skipped meals—if you keep this up, you’ll…”

“That’s precisely why I’m staying right here.”

Caliph cut Felix off firmly, as if his words weren’t worth hearing further.

“It’s not insomnia that made Ibelia collapse—it’s Liurian Petrov.”

“…Caliph.”

“Isn’t it absurd? He behaves like trash all over the palace, heedless of onlookers, yet no one stops Liurian Petrov.”

“…”

“They accept it as natural—even with the Crown Princess plainly in sight, he spends tender moments with that mistress-like noblewoman.”

At the end of his rant, Caliph ground his teeth. Just recalling the incident in the glass conservatory made his blood boil even now.

[Your Highness!] [Oh, Lellia. What if you’d tripped while running over like that?] [It’s just… I was so overjoyed to see you unexpectedly that I couldn’t help myself…]

Lellia Net’s image, rushing toward him, was vivid as if it had happened moments ago—specifically, the moment she deliberately struck Ibelia’s shoulder.

Despite committing such an audacious offense, not a shred of guilt or fear showed on Lellia’s face—not even after striking the Crown Princess, a grave crime for a mere noblewoman.

Unspeakable rage surged from his core, yet he couldn’t reveal a trace of it. Worse still, he’d even feigned affection as he gazed at Lellia.

Caliph lowered his head in despair.

Lellia Net was a dreadful woman to him—but at this moment, if anyone was more dreadful than her, it was none other than himself.

“Caliph. This is merely Liurian’s life—you shouldn’t feel guilty.”

“…Is that really true? It’s me who’s living that damn life, after all.”

“It’s only to maintain the pretense of being Liurian. That, in itself, is for your consort’s sake.”

“Perhaps even that is just a hollow excuse. I claim to act as Liurian Petrov for her benefit, yet it’s precisely this pretense that drives her into despair.”

Caliph murmured softly, his gaze fixed intently on Ibelia’s fingertips peeking out from under the blanket.

Even her limp hand looked pitiful. He wanted desperately to take it—to share his warmth, to breathe life back into her. But all he could do was endure, again and again, and feign coldness.

Felix, watching silently, sighed in frustration. Then, stepping away from the windowsill he’d been leaning against, he strode firmly toward Caliph and Ibelia.

“Ha! So in the end, you force me to interfere directly like this.”

At the voice so close by, Caliph lifted his head—but before he could speak, Felix placed his hand on Ibelia’s forehead.

Instinctively, Caliph shot up from his seat and reached for Felix. In that instant, an unbelievable sight filled his vision completely.

A blue glow began swirling—not just around Felix’s silhouette, but also where his hand touched Ibelia’s forehead.

What had started as a faint line quickly became a luminous halo, and finally blazed so brilliantly it was painful to look at directly.

The impossible phenomenon lasted only a few seconds before fading back to normal. Only then did Caliph snap out of his daze and seize Felix’s wrist tightly.

“She’ll wake soon.”

“What?”

“Your consort will rise from her bed shortly.”

Felix replied calmly, yet Caliph’s furrowed brow remained tense.

“…What did you do?”

“Maybe she was sleeping so deeply she had no intention of waking—that’s why she’s like this.”

“Cut the nonsense and answer my question.”

“Whoa, don’t glare at me like that. I merely shared a bit of my energy with your consort.”

Caliph let out a hollow laugh. Shared energy? That was utterly absurd.

Yet at that very moment, Ibelia—who had lain utterly still, barely breathing—began to stir faintly.

Caliph’s eyes instinctively sought her. There she was, weakly moving her head, her eyelids fluttering.

It was a sight too astonishing to believe.

Caliph stared at Felix with utter disbelief.

“I told you—I might be far more useful than you think.”

“So you really did share your energy with her?”

“You’ve underestimated my abilities. The truth is, I’m certainly not someone a mere mortal can afford to ignore.”

Felix shrugged smugly. Normally, Caliph would have dismissed him outright—but not now.

It was impossible to believe, yet Ibelia’s movements were growing clearer.

Caliph’s expression, as he glanced between Ibelia and Felix, quickly turned troubled—he was already worrying about what would happen once she awoke.

Felix, catching on instantly, gave a soft chuckle and slowly stepped backward.

“Instead of worrying, why not go to her?”

“What?”

“You can’t reveal your true identity yet—but does that mean you have to hide your feelings too?”

Caliph frowned. That was hard to understand.

“Explain clearly.”

“It’s unbearably painful for you to treat your consort harshly just to maintain the Liurian act. But must you really do it?”

“This is the only way to keep Ibelia from discovering I’m not Liurian.”

“Well, I see it differently.”

Felix, still retreating, suddenly stopped and leaned against the windowsill—his stance so precarious it seemed he might tumble out at any moment.

Yet Felix himself looked more relaxed than ever as he gazed at Liurian.

“Isn’t it the Empress and her faction you must hide your identity from? Of course, pretending to be Liurian might be the best way to avoid confusing your consort—but it’s not the only way.”

“…”

“Look with your own eyes. See how much pain your consort endures watching you so faithfully play Liurian.”

“…”

“Must Liurian’s heart always be cruel to Ibelia? From what I’ve seen, nothing is as fickle and changeable as the human heart.”

Felix ended with a meaningful smile. Then, his form turned translucent—and just like that, he vanished as if it were all a lie.

Though Caliph had witnessed this countless times before, he stared at the windowsill with bewildered eyes.

He couldn’t tell whether his confusion stemmed from Felix’s sudden disappearance or the words he’d left behind.

But before he could figure it out, the voice he’d longed to hear slipped into his ears.

“…Your Highness?”