Became Pregnant With the Demon King’s Child

Since Lowell still needed time to recover, heading into the village right away was out of the question. The two of them agreed to return to the manor for now and rest, then go down to the village together on the final day of the festival.
Even after hearing that Lowell had been injured, the Count of House Clarke didn’t respond—let alone take action. The Count had preemptively silenced the servants, assuming it was the Emperor’s will. Even Tanya didn’t ask if he was alright; she merely glanced at his shoulder to check the wound. Lowell couldn’t help but think, The original owner of this body must have been terribly lonely.

Surrounded by people who weren’t truly on his side, Lowell found himself looking forward to the outing with Felix all the more.
Time passed slowly. Lowell spent most of those stretched-out days sleeping. Tanya, assuring him that it was only natural because of the pregnancy, brought meals to his room, but he didn’t have much appetite. Even so, he forced himself to take a few bites, for the sake of the baby—and himself.
Eventually, the long wait came to an end. The promised day arrived.

Felix showed up in the same carriage as before, dressed in attire that, while not dramatically different from usual, looked as if he had put in more effort. Without the intimidating air he carried, he could’ve easily been mistaken for a young man preparing for his first date.
Lowell, having predicted this exact scenario, handed Felix a change of clothes.
So he really was planning to strut around in that flashy carriage and shout ‘I’m a noble!’ with that outfit. He must’ve never set foot in a village outside his own estate.

Felix looked at the clothes with a blank expression, as if asking what is this, but Lowell spoke firmly.
“Your Grace, please change into this outfit inside the carriage.”
“What?”

The carriage was wide enough to change clothes comfortably, and its windows prevented any outside view. Still, the sudden request clearly caught Felix off guard.
“If we’re going into the village, we should try enjoying it like ordinary people.”
“Ordinary?”

“Yes. If you dress like that, everyone will immediately know a noble’s come down, and it’ll just draw attention. It’ll be hard to move around freely. I want to blend in with the crowd and enjoy the festival in secret.”
Felix raised an eyebrow but didn’t argue—he wasn’t the type to be stubborn about things he didn’t understand well. He obediently entered the carriage and changed. Though the commoner’s clothes were a bit short on him—especially the pants, which stopped awkwardly around his calves—he somehow still looked elegant, thanks to his good looks and well-built frame.
Even dressed like that, it’s pointless. He still looks like a noble trying to pretend to be common.

Lowell finally handed him a robe. But Felix didn’t take it—he simply stared down at it in silence before speaking.
“You should wear the robe instead.”
“Me?”

“Yes. You have… a rather conspicuous face. Unnecessarily.”
It was rare for Felix to trail off his words. Lowell knew the body he was in was beautiful, but he didn’t think it rivaled Felix’s. He almost laughed.
Is this what they call rose-colored glasses?
Rather than point that out, Lowell turned to Tanya—who was fidgeting anxiously at a distance—and asked her to bring another robe. Felix seemed satisfied only after Lowell was fully cloaked. He even instinctively pulled the hood low over Lowell’s golden hair to cover it more thoroughly. Meanwhile, he draped his own robe loosely over his shoulders with little care.

“We’ll park the carriage a little outside the village.”
Since walking all the way from the manor wasn’t practical, Lowell agreed. The carriage might be ostentatious, but its ride was smooth—no complaints there.
***

It didn’t take long to reach the village. After walking about twenty minutes from where they’d disembarked, they arrived at a bustling entrance, alive with festival energy. It seemed everyone had poured into the streets for the final day of celebration. Felix froze at the edge of the crowd, overwhelmed by the atmosphere, and hesitated as if unsure whether he should go in.
Before that hesitation could drag on, Lowell gave him a firm push on the back.
“You’re not seriously thinking of turning back after coming all this way, are you?”

Felix’s doubts vanished the moment he saw Lowell’s radiant smile. As if nothing had happened, he stepped confidently into the village. Lowell hurried to keep up, but their physical differences made it difficult. The distance between them gradually grew, and Lowell alternated between speed-walking and a light jog whenever Felix’s black-clad figure got too far ahead. After a few such sprints, his fragile body was winded, his breath coming in gasps.
“Lowell?”
Felix, who had been walking straight ahead, finally noticed Lowell’s labored breathing and turned around. In that short moment, Lowell had been swallowed up by the crowd and was now struggling to push his way back to him. Realization hit Felix—he hadn’t adjusted his pace for Lowell at all. He’d never had anyone walk beside him before—not outside of his subordinates—so it hadn’t occurred to him.

“I’m right here.”
Lowell barely managed to squeeze the words out as he stumbled back to Felix’s side, still panting. Walking pace wasn’t something you changed unless you consciously tried. This time, he’d caught up quickly, but in such a crowded place, it was only a matter of time before they got separated again. Though hidden guards were following them, they were ultimately there for Felix, not Lowell.
“Let’s hold hands.”

Felix tossed the words out casually, then tacked on an explanation.
“If we get separated, it’ll be a «N.o.v.e.l.i.g.h.t» hassle. If you get lost, I might have to halt the entire festival just to find you. That’d ruin everything.”
He rattled off reasons, as if to make clear it meant nothing more. His earlobes, however, were burning red. Lowell couldn’t refuse the slightly trembling hand held out to him and gently placed his own in it. Felix gripped it firmly, turned away, and began walking again—this time at a much slower pace.

“Is there anything you want to do?”
They arrived in the heart of the village, now a wonderland of stalls, street performers, puppet shows, and tents for plays and circuses. It was the kind of place where you could spend an entire day just deciding where to start. Having never experienced anything like it before, Felix deferred to Lowell.
“Well, first things first—when you're at a festival, you’ve got to eat something delicious.”

Lowell had already had his eye on something.
“Let’s get that chicken dish.”
This time, Lowell took the lead, pulling Felix along to a vendor. The dish—chicken roasted over a gentle magical flame—reminded him eerily of the rotisserie chicken from Eunoh’s world. The smell alone made his mouth water. It was hard to believe he’d lost his appetite back at the Count’s manor.

Even if I can eat almost anything, thirty years of Korean food leave an impression.
The seasonings were different, giving the scent a unique twist, but it was still the closest thing to Korean-style food he’d had so far.
“I’ll pay for it.”

Felix reached for his coin pouch, but Lowell stopped him.
“You only have gold coins, right?”
Felix didn’t respond—because it was true.

“That’s half a year’s wages for a commoner. You hand that over, and things’ll spiral fast.”
Lowell, having studied the festival’s prices in advance, pulled out appropriate copper coins.
“Two chicken skewers, please. Is five coppers enough?”

“Yes! Here you go!”
While Lowell beamed with excitement, Felix realized he’d already fumbled the first step. He’d brought Lowell here to make him happy, but so far, everything from the clothes to the food had needed Lowell’s guidance. He began to wonder if he was doing anything right at all.
“Here.”

But seeing Lowell’s bright, sunflower-like smile made those doubts evaporate. Felix accepted the chicken with practiced grace and took a bite without hesitation. Lowell’s eyes widened in surprise. He had expected a grimace or a scolding remark—You expect me to eat this?—but instead, Felix dug in with gusto.
“Didn’t expect you to eat this so easily.”
“In war, you eat dirt if you have to.”

The image of Felix eating dirt was almost too absurd to picture.
I thought he’d say, “I’d rather starve,” like some elegant noble, but I guess in extreme situations, everyone’s the same.
While thinking these useless thoughts, Lowell bit into his chicken. The savory, greasy flavor filled his mouth. Though the taste leaned more toward oven-roasted chicken than the rotisserie he remembered, it was still satisfyingly familiar.

Guess I’m not having morning sickness after all.
Lowell devoured his portion with near-fanatical delight, bones and all. He wondered if he’d eaten too fast—but didn’t regret it. It was the most satisfying meal he’d had in ages.