Chapter 7 – The Weight of Friendship
Aurora hadn't expected Silvia's hand to feel so warm.
For someone with demon blood, feared across nations, Silvia's touch had been careful. Almost… fragile. It wasn't the grasp of someone who wanted to dominate her. It was the grasp of someone terrified that, if she let go, she'd be left alone again.
It shook Aurora more than she wanted to admit.
She had promised herself she wouldn't get close to anyone in this new life. She knew what trust brought—betrayal, pain, loss. Her sealed bloodline, her mission, her precarious existence… all of it would collapse if she entangled herself with people like before.
And yet…
Every time Silvia looked at her with those crimson eyes—unafraid, vulnerable—Aurora felt her heart weaken.
"Friends."
The word lingered in her chest long after they parted that day.
But Aurora knew it couldn't last.
Not here.
Not with the Demon Lord's daughter.
Not when she was hiding a truth that could unravel the world.
That night, while Silvia slept within her castle, Aurora slipped away. Her body trembled as she placed a folded piece of parchment on the table near the demon princess's window. The words written there were shaky, the ink blotched with hesitation.
Silvia,
Thank you for being my first friend. I hope fate allows us to meet again. But for now… I can't stay here. Forgive me.
–SisterAurora
She pressed her trembling fingers to the paper, whispering a soft apology.
Then she disappeared into the night.
When morning came, Silvia found the letter.
Her hands shook as she read it once, twice, three times. Each word cut deeper than the last.
Her chest ached. The fragile warmth she had felt—gone, like a dream fading with the dawn.
She sank to her knees, clutching the letter against her chest.
"Why… why does everyone leave?"
The dam of her pride cracked, and tears she had never allowed herself to shed spilled freely. She cried out into the emptiness of her chambers, her voice shaking the stone walls.
"Mother… if you were still here, would I still be alone?!"
Her sorrow carried through the halls until it reached the throne room, where the Demon Lord sat in silence.
For the first time in years, the great ruler rose, listening not as a king—but as a father to his only daughter.