Stolen Crown Princess (Completed Main Story) - Chapter 16

Felix stood by the window, gazing blankly off into the distance with a bored expression. To him, this hour—when the sun shone most brightly—was the dullest part of the day.

Caliph was his only companion, yet he was busy every single day for some new reason. Of course, Felix himself wished for Caliph to stay occupied.

Still, wasn’t today precisely the kind of day when he might afford to laze about a bit?

“How can he act as if nothing happened, just like any other day, after coming back so wounded yesterday?”

Felix tilted his head and muttered to himself. He was someone Felix had personally chosen, yet by any measure, he was an utterly stubborn man.

[I did exactly as you said.] [Really? Did that method actually work?]

Though Caliph’s utterly despairing expression—something Felix had never seen before—spoke volumes, he deliberately asked anyway.

At those words, Caliph let out a deep sigh. It was a clear sign of negativity. Though even if Caliph had denied it, Felix already knew how Ibelia had reacted.

After all, if he truly wanted to, he could easily overhear their conversation from the Crown Princess’s quarters even while in the Crown Prince’s palace.

[…We’ll see once we wait. The choice has always belonged to Ibelia.]

Caliph murmured softly, his face steeped in sorrow as though he were facing the end of the world.

Given that his entire world hinged on that very premise—the end—it wasn’t at all an unreasonable reaction. To him, watching Ibelia in distress was tantamount to witnessing the collapse of his world.

After those words, he went to bed but couldn’t fall asleep until dawn broke. It was doubtful whether he’d managed even a moment of rest.

Yet, as if nothing had happened, he rose at the appointed hour and hurried off to fulfill his duties just as he always did.

“Well, staying busy is probably more effective for forgetting sorrow anyway.”

Felix muttered casually, as if discussing someone else’s affairs. Yet his wandering gaze was brimming with worry.

Of course, only for a moment.

After appearing lost in thought briefly, he soon scrunched one eye shut, raised both arms above his head, and stretched.

“Ugh, how boring.”

Even as he spoke, his eyes—fixed somewhere beyond the window—suddenly sparkled with interest.

He quickly approached a drawer on one side of the bedroom and peered into a transparent, square-shaped container.

Inside, a tiny hamster scurried about, burrowing through the wood shavings.

Felix reached into the container and gently cupped the small creature in his hands.

“Shall we go on a quiet little reconnaissance mission?”

His whisper was unnecessarily secretive, as if he were trying not to be noticed by Caliph, who had left the room early that morning.

“What do you think?”

He placed a sunflower seed onto his palm, where the hamster sat, and asked in a friendly tone—as if offering a bribe to win it over to his side.

The adorable pet rodent, utterly focused on the sunflower seed, hurriedly stuffed it into its mouth. Yet somehow, to Felix, this seemed like the answer he’d been waiting for.

He smiled contentedly and stroked the hamster’s head.

“I knew you’d think just like me. Then I’m counting on you again today.”

If Caliph had seen this, he’d surely have called him a madman.

“Your Highness, you skipped breakfast—please at least have lunch. You even collapsed yesterday; you must eat something to regain your strength. So please…”

“Pailin.”

Pailin, who had been pleading earnestly, looked up at Ibelia on the bed with wide, startled eyes.

It was the first time she’d heard Ibelia’s voice since she’d started visiting her chambers at coughing hour.

Overwhelmed with emotion, Pailin quickly replied.

“Yes! Yes, Your Highness!”

“…I’m sorry, but I’d like to be alone today.”

Yet her mistress’s reply was utterly disheartening.

Pailin’s expression darkened instantly, and she let out a heavy sigh.

“Your Highness, then please just take a few spoonfuls. After that, neither I nor any of the other attendants will set foot in your chamber again.”

“…Later. I’ll eat later. So please leave now. I’m asking you.”

Even though Pailin had made her plea as if grasping at straws, Ibelia remained unmoved. Pailin lowered her head and sighed deeply.

She’d never been this stubborn before—but now that she was so resolute, there was clearly no swaying her.

Without another word, Pailin set the tray down on the nightstand beside the bed.

“Your Highness, I’ll leave the prepared meal here. If you change your mind, please take at least one spoonful. And if you crave a warm meal, don’t hesitate to call for me immediately.”

“Mm, I will. Thank you, Pailin.”

Unlike her usual delayed responses, Ibelia answered right away this time—clearly emphasizing her desire to be alone.

Pailin had no choice but to turn away. Soon, the sound of the chamber door opening and closing echoed through the room, and only then did Ibelia release the breath she’d been holding.

“Huuu…”

She had deliberately kept her back turned to Pailin, and now struggled to sit up.

Her face, revealed from beneath the covers, was a complete mess—her eyes bloodshot red and her eyelids swollen.

Had Pailin seen her like this, she would have been horrified.

Blinking her heavy eyelids, she turned her head and saw the tray on the nightstand. Though a rather appetizing aroma drifted to her nose, she felt no hunger—not even enough strength to lift a spoon, let alone appetite.

Ibelia exhaled another sigh, as if by habit, then pinched the bridge of her nose, frowning.

Last night had been another chance to finally sleep, even if only thanks to medicine—but once again, Ibelia hadn’t slept a wink.

And once again, the reason was Liurian.

[Ibelia.] […] [I think… I’ll try to love you.] […] [Even if you can’t understand someone like me.]

His unbelievable words had echoed in her ears all night long.

“…He said he’d ‘try to love’ me.”

At that very moment, his expression had been unbearably pained—nothing like how someone confessing love ought to look.

As if trying to love her were some form of dreadful torture.

Just as he’d said, she couldn’t understand it. Since his return from the battlefield, none of his changed behavior made sense—but of all those inexplicable things, last night’s words were the most baffling.

Liurian Petrov had no reason whatsoever to love Ibelia Caroline.

After all, the House of Garnet—one of the two powers whose support alone could be said to uphold the Valterophe Empire—stood firmly behind him.

That was precisely why, despite being bound in a political marriage for years, she’d never managed to close even a single step of the distance between them.

“…Then why?”

Ibelia muttered to herself out of habit and squeezed her eyes shut.

He’d lived perfectly well treating her worse than a stranger. Even his improper relationship with Lady Lellia hadn’t left the slightest blemish on his honor.

That fact wouldn’t change in the future either.

As the Empire’s sole Crown Prince, with the formidable House of Garnet beneath his feet, there was no one within the Empire capable of toppling him.

Thus, unless the Empress—the very heart of the House of Garnet—decided to cast out her own son, Ibelia was utterly unnecessary to Liurian.

He surely knew that too. As long as he continued being the Empress’s beloved son and Lellia’s affectionate lover, just as he always had, he would become the next Emperor without any major obstacles.

There was absolutely no way he didn’t know.

Then what could have caused such a shift in his feelings?

No matter how many times she thought it over, she couldn’t accept Liurian’s words.

She’d stayed awake all night, even suspecting this might be yet another cruel trick meant to torment her.

But his expression last night had been far too resolute and anguished for that.

Every time she recalled that look, her heart sank heavily—it was impossible to find even a trace of falsehood in it.

“…”

Ibelia instinctively turned her gaze toward the spot where Liurian had stood the previous night.

It was undeniably foolish—constantly doubting him while chasing after his lingering image. Her contradictory behavior nearly made her laugh at herself.

Yet no matter how hard she tried, she couldn’t stop.

She kept telling herself that to avoid further hurt, she mustn’t assign unwarranted meaning to things or lose her center by being swayed by him—but she kept wavering nonetheless.

“Haa…”

A sigh that had risen all the way to her chin finally burst out.

She probably needed to pull the covers over her head again. Otherwise, she’d surely keep chasing after Liurian’s phantom.

Ibelia half-turned her body to lie back down—when an unexpected movement seized her senses.

She stared wide-eyed toward the window. She’d clearly felt a tiny motion there, yet saw nothing.

“…What was that? Did I imagine it?”

She was certain something had moved.

But no matter how wide she opened her eyes or how hard she searched, nothing caught her sight.

She felt vaguely uneasy, but quickly resigned herself. With Liurian’s words alone already threatening to split her head open, she couldn’t afford to worry about such trivial things.

She took a deep breath and adjusted her pillow to lie back down—when suddenly, an unbelievable voice boldly pierced through her ears.

Looks like you’re not doing so great either.

Ibelia forgot she’d been about to lie down and whipped her head toward the source of the voice, her face startled.

To her astonishment, right where her gaze landed sat a tiny hamster, calmly grooming itself.