The Demon King was actually forced

“Lady Lentiya, you seem deeply troubled?”

Samael’s voice pulled Syldra back to reality. She looked up—he was watching her with genuine concern.

The young man stood close again. Too close. She could see the fine lashes framing his crimson eyes, even catch the faint scent of something cold and floral on his skin.

“—Lord Samael! You’re standing too near!” She jerked backward, dragging the chair several feet with a sharp scrape.

“Ah… my apologies, Lady Lentiya.” He straightened, adjusting his collar with practiced ease.

“Perhaps it takes time for someone like you to grow accustomed to being near an exceptional man who stirs your heart. That is not your fault—nor is it mine. Still, I beg you—do not let this matter bring shame upon the Duchy of Camille.”

His calm delivery left Syldra with a dark, twitching line across her forehead.

Why?!

She was ready to scream.

He was so arrogant—yet at the worst moments, he’d drop into abject humility. He understood the etiquette of the weak—yet spoke offenses as if unaware.

Samael stood in silence now. His eyes closed slightly, motionless. Syldra gradually calmed herself, but beneath the surface, questions surged like floodwaters.

Wylding’s intentions. The truth behind the engagement. Samael’s nature. Lakazet’s attitude. The relationship between Camille and Wylding. Why Camille was chosen…

…… But no matter how tangled it became, one thing remained unchanged: the core.

Syldra pushed aside the chaos and resolved to cut straight to the heart.

“Lord Samael,” she began, smoothing her tone, “Miss Lakazet has long been a dear friend of mine. We’ve known each other since childhood. So when I heard of her engagement, I was truly happy for her.”

She lied effortlessly, face serene—no hint of deception in her voice or expression. If Samael sensed any emotional tremor, her cover would collapse.

“But when I later learned that the gentleman she was to marry—the same nobleman who helped me today—I felt compelled to come personally. Not only to thank you, but to offer my congratulations.”

“That is why I am here.”

“But now you say… you never agreed to this engagement with Lakazet…” She met his gaze, forcing confidence into her stare. “As her friend, I must consider her well-being. I need to know what truly happened.”

“If you believe this is a private matter—”

“If you intend to toy with the feelings of the daughter of House Wylding—and deceive a representative of House Lentiya—you may simply refuse to answer, Lord Samael.” Her voice turned icy.

Yes, love and marriage were personal matters.

But—

You’re afraid, aren’t you, Samael?

Afraid of Wylding. Afraid of Lentiya. Afraid of retaliation against Camille.

Then be honest. Tell me what’s really going on.

Syldra waited.

…… She didn’t realize she had become the one wielding noble pressure.

But among aristocrats, power and status were currency—dominance exchanged through subtle dominance. For Syldra, who had lived by these rules since birth, using them instinctively was second nature.

Samael stood silently.

After a long pause, he finally spoke.

“Even so, I can only tell you the truth as it stands.” His voice was heavy. “First, I must emphasize—I have no intention of playing with Miss Lakazet’s emotions. This alliance was not proposed by the Duchy of Camille… nor by me.”

“I merely met Miss Lakazet at a banquet some time ago. We exchanged a few words—nothing more.”

“Afterward, due to various affairs and correspondence, we met a few times. But our interactions remained strictly formal. I harbored no improper thoughts, and I believe she did the same.”

“However… about two or three months ago, Lakazet sent me a letter expressing her desire to begin a romantic relationship.”

Here, he paused.

“….. I declined immediately. I had no interest in pursuing anything with her. Yet she privately sent multiple proposals afterward.”

“I rejected the first few, but realized I couldn’t stop her actions—so I stopped replying to her letters entirely.”

“For a time, she ceased contact. Then, two weeks ago, the Duchy of Wylding sent an invitation for Camille to attend this anniversary celebration.”

“Camille had no grounds to refuse. As heir, I came in my father’s place.”

“But on the first night after arrival, hotel staff delivered a message from Miss Lakazet—requesting an urgent meeting.”

At this, his eyes darkened.

What he said next made Syldra’s breath catch.

“I went. And… Lakazet told me firmly that on October 10th, during the main banquet, she would publicly propose to me—in front of all attending representatives.”

“I refused. But she seemed utterly indifferent to my stance.”

“After that meeting, I requested another private talk—to clarify once more that I do not wish to marry her, and cannot unilaterally accept a political union on behalf of Camille.”

“Yet Lakazet acted as if my words meant nothing. To the very end, she never withdrew her intent to propose.”

He fixed Syldra with a steady gaze. “That is the full account of this farce they call an engagement.”

“I have not agreed to it. But Camille… may have no power to reject a decision imposed by Wylding.”

“Until just now, when you arrived, I had no way to stop her.”

“And since you claim to be a close friend of Miss Lakazet…”

“Please. Persuade her to withdraw this absurd proposal.”

“My aid may seem insignificant to you. But even for Lakazet’s own sake—if you care for her happiness—the reason should be strong enough. A marriage without love… cannot bring her joy as a woman.”

With that, Samael fell silent, waiting.

But Syldra sat frozen, her mind consumed by a growing sense of dread.

.….. What? It was this?

——Lakazet claimed her father would announce their engagement at the banquet. She implied Syldra was jealous, trying to steal Samael—painting herself as a beloved fiancée defending her lover from rivals.

It sounded like a romance—two hearts united, taking the next step together.

But Samael’s version?

From the beginning, every advance—every proposal—had been hers alone. Even coercive.

Syldra felt the dark premonition solidify into certainty.

…… The engagement wasn’t real.

It was merely the opening act of a tragedy directed by Wylding.

A union rejected by Camille. A plan never disclosed to allies.

——If everything was kept secret, then on the day of the announcement, any ‘accident’ that occurred on Wylding’s soil… would be under Wylding’s control.

A chill ran down her spine.

——If she had a knife right now and killed Samael in this room, she could deny it. As a Lentiya representative, Camille couldn’t convict her—not while she stood on allied territory.

——If, during the banquet, some ‘unfortunate incident’ befell Samael on the day his engagement was announced… Wylding’s Duke could simply deny responsibility. As host and sovereign of this land, no one would dare accuse him—because they were all guests on his ground.

In the end, within this labyrinthine gilded cage called “The Lion’s Invitation,” Camille was the only one without allies.

“…… Lady Lentiya,” Samael said, his back to the moonlight, his voice echoing softly in the prison-like room, “in this world… do the weak ever truly have the right to refuse the strong?”