Became Pregnant With the Demon King’s Child

Standing side by side under the stars, the two of them turned to face each other at the same time.

“Shall we go to the greenhouse?”
Lowell tugged Felix’s hand as if to say they should follow through on the original reason they’d left the castle. Felix would’ve liked to be alone with Lowell a little longer, but he agreed, worrying that if they stayed out too long, Lowell might catch a cold.
That evening, they made a brief round through the greenhouse, exchanging short greetings with the guests there, and then slowly made their way back to the tower. The next day, after seeing off even the overnight guests, Lowell finally felt the tension leave his body all at once.

“I’m tired, but I do feel proud.”
“You do?”
“Yes. It was a good way to show that the Ducal Castle is open to exchange now, and there shouldn’t be any more unfounded rumors going around.”

“You were thinking about that?”
Felix, who had been battered by slander and misunderstanding for so long he’d grown numb to other people’s opinions, murmured as if surprised.
“Didn’t you take that into account too, Felix?”

In truth, Felix had decided to hold the banquet impulsively—he simply wanted to make their relationship public.
“Sure.”
He couldn't say all that directly to Lowell, so he answered shortly and left it at that. The servants returned to the main castle after sending off the last guest.

“Thank you all for your hard work. Things should be quiet for a while, so let’s take a breather.”
At Lowell’s words, the servants' faces lit up with relief. Though it had been fulfilling to coordinate everything together for the first time, they were still undeniably exhausted.
***

The next day, Lowell slept all day, which worried Felix—but he bounced back quickly the day after. After the banquet, the castle was unusually quiet.
That peace, however, was broken that afternoon—by an unexpected visitor. Fortunately or unfortunately, the guest wasn’t human.
“Where on earth did it come from in this cold?”

“It’s a wonder it didn’t freeze to death.”
Bored of reading, Lowell had gone out for a walk and noticed some servants gathered in one spot. Curious, he yawned and approached.
“What’s going on?”
Startled to see him, the servants who’d been crouched down quickly stood.

“Young Lord, well… It’s nothing serious, just that an animal came inside.”
Lowell lowered his gaze, expecting some wild animal they’d need to send back ~Nоvеl𝕚ght~ out—but what he saw on the ground was a long-haired cat, its fur twice the size of its body, sitting like a sculpture. The strange thing was that, even surrounded by curious people, it didn’t move a muscle.
“Ah, it’s a cat.”

“Must’ve come in because of the cold. Just being in here puts it inside a fire-magic zone, so it’s pretty warm.”
The servants looked uncertain about what to do. Likely because no animals—other than horses—had ever been kept in the castle.
“Maybe we should give it some milk?”

Jenia, who was among the group, was about to suggest they first ask if it was okay to let the animal stay in the castle, but she stopped when she saw Lowell’s face. He was staring at the cat with a faint frown of sympathy.
“No. If there’s some chicken breast, please boil that instead.”
He sounded like someone who knew cats well. The servants stared at Lowell in surprise as he reached out a finger to the calm gray cat. The cat let out a soft meow and gently nudged Lowell’s fingertip with its nose.

“Let’s just let it stay in the castle through the winter. But… don’t get too attached. If it leaves one day, we shouldn’t be heartbroken.”
But even as he said that, Lowell was already petting the cat stuck to his hand. He settled into a seat, waving his fingers this way and that, trying to catch the cat’s attention.
“What are you looking at?”

Felix had shown up, unable to endure even a short time apart from Lowell, and found him crouched and waving his hand around. Lowell looked up when he heard the voice.
“Ah, a cat came in because of the cold. I was going to give it something to eat.”
Felix glanced between Lowell and the cat before speaking.

“She’s pregnant.”
It was clearly not a comment about Lowell—he meant the cat. The servants’ eyes all turned toward the animal.
“Now that you mention it, her belly is a bit swollen. Must’ve been hard to see under all that fur.”

“Pregnant animals sometimes come down to settlements. There aren’t many warm places around here, so she probably came to the castle.”
Felix explained it calmly, without much surprise.
“Do you want to keep her?”

He asked belatedly, seeing how absorbed Lowell was—but unexpectedly, Lowell shook his head.
“If you take one in, you have to be responsible for it.”
Lowell wasn’t the kind to shirk responsibility. Felix didn’t push—he was waiting for the real reason.

“Besides… animals die early. It’s fine to give them food or let them rest somewhere warm, but if you raise one properly, it’ll just break your heart later.”
Felix realized what Lowell was afraid of. From his point of view, just feeding the cat already meant Lowell had formed an attachment. But his gentle Lowell would probably mourn even that much. He didn’t say any of this aloud. He also didn’t want to share Lowell’s attention with that fluffy creature.
“Still, it’s admirable. It means she came here hoping to raise her babies somewhere safe.”

One of the servants brought the boiled chicken breast and offered it kindly. Lowell glanced between his own belly and the cat.
She’s doing better than me.
Suddenly feeling a little embarrassed, that’s the thought that came to him.

“So it’s alright if we don’t chase her out?”
“Yes.”
The servants smiled, clearly relieved—they’d secretly wanted to take care of her. As Lowell stood, he thought of Choco against his will. He’d once vowed never to raise another pet again, and figured he wouldn’t be able to give this one the same care.

But Lowell’s resolve didn’t last long. The cat, eventually named Gray by the servants, seemed to especially adore Lowell. Though he wouldn’t admit it, Lowell fell completely for Gray in less than ten days.
“I told you to stop coming over here.”
He said with feigned annoyance as Gray rubbed between his legs, but then took the dried fish he’d been carrying out of his pocket. He simply wasn’t heartless enough to push away a creature that came to him.

If you really didn’t want her to follow you, you wouldn’t be carrying around dried fish in the first place.
Felix watched Lowell, who still refused to acknowledge how smitten he was with the cat. Truthfully, Felix wanted to kick the animal away and tell it to get lost. But he knew doing so would earn him a look of deep disappointment—and that alone kept him in check.
“Your belly’s gotten bigger. You’re not hungry, are you?”

Lowell even spoke to the baby in his stomach with a soft, high-pitched tone.
That grin’s about to split his face.
And yet, if Felix asked, “Are you really sure you don’t want to keep her?” Lowell would look at him with sad eyes and say, “No, we shouldn’t get too attached.”

If he got any more attached, he’d probably sleep hugging her at night.
Felix clicked his tongue and kept watching. Noticing the intense gaze, Lowell stood awkwardly.
“U-Um, I thought the baby might be hungry.”

Gray was living quite the life. She wasn’t getting just three meals a day—but five. Which meant, of course, that Lowell was just making excuses.
“I think the new books are supposed to arrive today, so I’ll go check on them.”
Even as he said that, his eyes were still trailing after the cat. Animals always knew who loved them. Gray followed Lowell all the way to the main castle. Lowell, afraid he might step on her, walked in tiny careful steps.

Maybe I should’ve sent her to the servants’ quarters that first day.
It was too late now. Gray preferred Lowell over the servants who fed her. She even waited outside the tower for him to come out. Felix could only hope that Lowell wouldn’t end up too emotionally invested in that little beast.
***

“Gray’s not around.”
But once again, Felix’s wish seemed unlikely to come true. A little over a week later, Gray—who had started showing up more sporadically—finally didn’t appear at all. Not a single tuft of fur, all day long. As the sun set, Lowell’s expression grew darker and darker.