Became Pregnant With the Demon King’s Child

Lowell felt a twinge of disappointment in his body’s limited appetite—was one chicken really enough to make him feel full?
Back in the day, I could’ve taken down three whole chickens without blinking.
Clicking his tongue, he washed his hands and wandered off to browse other tents. One, in particular, caught his eye—a jewelry vendor. He hadn’t cared much for gemstones before, but he felt drawn in, likely because of one unusual piece that stood out.

“See something you like?”
Felix asked, watching Lowell stare intently at the display as if entranced. It was curious—Lowell didn’t strike him as someone fond of flashy things.
“A fine /N_o_v_e_l_i_g_h_t/ pair, you two! I’d love to offer you matching rings, but it’s the last day of the festival. Hardly anything left now. I’ll need to bring more next year when I come back to Phoebus.”

As the merchant spoke in the distinct accent of the Halo Empire’s tongue, it was clear there wasn’t much inventory left. But that didn’t matter to Lowell. What had caught his eye was a bracelet inlaid with a refined black gemstone. Probably obsidian—though high in quality, it hadn’t sold, likely because people in Halo considered black an ominous color.
“That’s obsidian, brought in from a neighboring country. Top-grade, but it’s hard to sell in Halo because of the color.”
The merchant gave Felix a wary glance, perhaps noticing the glimpse of his black hair and wondering if he’d taken offense.

“I think it’s beautiful. How much?”
“Three silver coins.”
A steep price for commoners, though judging by what had already been sold, the accessories must’ve been genuinely worth it.

Still feels a bit overpriced.
Lowell considered haggling but quickly gave up on the idea and produced the coins.
Nothing kills the mood like bartering in front of the person you're buying a gift for. I’ll just get it.

Once he had the bracelet, Lowell lifted Felix’s hand.
“What are you doing?”
Without answering, Lowell gently fastened the bracelet around Felix’s wrist.

“My first gift to you. I couldn’t pass it up—it’s a stone as beautiful as your eyes.”
Had someone else said it, it might’ve sounded like a jab at Felix’s cursed black eyes. But coming from Lowell, who spoke with nothing but quiet sincerity, it carried no malice—and Felix knew that. Looking at the black stone didn’t fill him with discomfort. He’d learned by now that the meaning behind a thing mattered more than its color.
“Don’t you want anything?”
Unfortunately, nothing left on the table really suited Lowell—bracelets too large for his wrist, feminine necklaces, or rings meant for children. Felix’s eyes began scanning the selection with growing disappointment. Lowell decided it was better to buy something—anything—than to outright refuse.

“That one. Please buy it for me.”
He pointed to the largest of the remaining rings—still small, just barely big enough for a thin woman’s or a man’s pinky finger. The blue gem set in its center was lovely, though the craftsmanship left something to be desired.
“That looks too small.”

“It’s cute, though, isn’t it?”
The merchant, quick to read the mood, handed it to Lowell, who slipped it onto his pinky with a playful glint in his eye. Then, holding his hand up to Felix, he declared:
“Perfect fit. I’ll use it as an engagement ring.”

“You’re calling that an engagement ring?”
Felix looked incredulous, but Lowell didn’t retract the statement.
“This one’s from you, Rix.”

He even called him by the made-up alias with a straight face. Lowell already knew Felix only had gold coins on him, but the merchant looked savvy—likely used to traveling and dealing with nobles. Even if given a gold coin, he’d know how to pocket it discreetly without causing a fuss.
“No need for change.”
“Ah, thank you kindly!”

Just as expected, the merchant bowed deeply and quickly tucked the gold out of sight. Humming contentedly, Lowell slipped his hand back into Felix’s.
“You’re not really going to use that as an engagement ring, are you?”
It was clear Felix wanted to say I’ll buy you something better, but the words caught in his throat. Lowell simply shrugged. Expensive gems only made him anxious—they could be lost or cracked. Something simple like this felt just right. Felix wasn’t satisfied, but seeing Lowell pleased left him with no room to argue.

“Shall we watch that performance?”
A play was just about to begin nearby. It was the final show of the festival and being held outdoors with only a simple tent set up.
“Alright.”

Felix didn’t care what they watched—so long as it was with Lowell. Whether it was a play or a circus act, he would’ve agreed either way. But still, Lowell kept checking with him.
Felix might not yet know what he liked, but with more experiences, he would eventually. He’d learn about himself bit by bit. One day, he’d be able to choose what he wanted without hesitation. Lowell looked at him with a gaze full of quiet warmth.
“It’s starting.”

They found seats amidst the crowd and settled in. The play was a tragedy. Act One followed the familiar cliché of a man and woman falling in love by chance. But in Act Two, war broke out, and the mood darkened. Selina, the heroine, believed her lover to have died in battle. Grieving, she cried herself to sleep every night until she finally took her own life.
“Oh no…”
Lowell let out a sigh and glanced at Felix. At first uninterested, Felix had gradually been drawn in. Now, he was watching with furrowed brows, completely absorbed. When Selina plunged a dagger into her chest, he even flinched.

Before Act Three began, there was a brief intermission. Despite being a small troupe, the production was far more polished than expected.
“What would you do?”
Felix suddenly asked, revealing just how invested he’d become.

“Do what?”
“If your lover went off to war and died—what would you do?”
His tone turned a bit gruff, perhaps embarrassed to ask such a sentimental question. Lowell mulled it over from his own perspective and answered honestly.

“The living have to keep living.”
It was the most cliché response—but to Lowell, it was the truest one. It didn’t mean suppressing grief. Rather, it meant grieving fully, then continuing to live with the weight of loss. That was the best a survivor could do. When he lost his parents in high school, that mindset was what had barely held him together.
Otherwise, I might’ve shattered completely.

He hoped Felix—like the boy who’d stood before his mother’s grave, eyes shadowed with sorrow—would come to understand that too.
“Is that so? That’s unexpected.”
Felix’s reply was casual, as if the question had been nothing but idle curiosity. Lowell nodded, silently hoping that if Felix ever had to go through another heartbreaking farewell, he’d manage to endure it.

“Then I guess when the time comes, you’d find someone else.”
The follow-up question caught him off guard.
Only then did Lowell realize he’d completely misunderstood the original question—and given the wrong answer. This hadn’t been about coping with grief or hypotheticals. It had been the kind of sweet, subtle probing a new lover might make to confirm how deeply they were loved. Felix hadn’t even realized it himself—it had come out unconsciously.

Because Felix had sounded so stoic and serious, Lowell hadn’t imagined the question might’ve had romantic undertones. He scrambled to recover, but—
“We’ll begin Act Three!”
The play resumed before he could say anything. Felix’s gaze remained fixed on the stage, showing no sign that he was willing to hear anything else.

The play ended with the lover’s return from war and his vengeful rampage. The troupe took their bows, and the audience applauded. Lowell dropped a few silver coins into the donation box and rose from his seat. Felix, however, didn’t take his hand again. When Lowell tentatively reached out, Felix turned his head away, pretending not to notice.
And yet, Felix himself didn’t even understand why he was upset.
How am I supposed to fix this?

It wouldn’t be hard to smooth things over with a few sweet, fabricated words. But Lowell didn’t want to lie to him—not about this. He wanted to be honest.
“Rix.”
Just as Lowell called out to him, the lead actor—having descended from the stage—stepped into the crowd, and chaos broke out. Apparently he was somewhat famous, and people surged forward, pushing Felix and Lowell apart. Lowell’s paper-thin body was easily swept away by the tide.

“Lowell!”
Felix’s voice rang out. Lowell reached toward the sound, but all he grasped was empty air.