Chapter Text
Harpy hadn’t meant for this to happen.
It started innocently enough—just a casual conversation with the princess about ice cream flavours. Well, after this walking cry for help followed Princess Syalis to the cafeteria, of course. Real smooth there, pal. Actually, do I even get paid enough to narrate these guys? I should be out starting a family, buying a new house, and paying off my debts-
"What’s your favourite?" Harpy had asked, tilting her head, feathers ruffling slightly in curiosity. Her eyelashes fluttered every time she blinked.
Princess Syalis, mid-yawn, mumbled, "Butterscotch."
And that was it.
Harpy’s eyes lit up. "Oh! Oh! I know a place! The best butterscotch ice cream in the demon realm! It’s—it’s not far! Do you want to—I mean, if you’re not busy—"
Suya blinked. "Ice cream sounds good."
And just like that, Harpy found herself leading the princess through the castle town at dusk, heart fluttering like a caged bird. Was she even allowed to drag the princess away from the castle? Well, it's not like that mattered. The princess could get away with literal war crimes if she wanted to.
It was a gruelling walk there. The princess wanted to round-house kick Harpy and throw her off a bridge. How dare she make her use her feet so much?! Augh.. she should be sleeping! Can't this soft, fluffy chicken make use of her wings?! Who cares if it's too much? Suya isn't that heavy! n-no! What do you mean she is?! It's just water weight..! T-Totally..! (I don't get paid enough to hype up Suya. Send help. I haven't seen my family in days. I miss them.)
The little ice cream parlour was cosy, tucked away under strings of glowing lanterns. The owner—a stout old demon with a curled moustache—recognised Harpy immediately and grinned.
"Ah! The usual for you, miss?" Good lord, that was a heavily exaggerated French accent with a slightly fruity seasoning. Is he faking it? Poser. Is he trying to attract the fruity chicks? He's not failing, at least. Speaking of fruity chicks.. Neo Alraune would dig this place. Well, maybe if this place had an idol performing.. then yeah 100%.
Harpy nodded eagerly, then remembered she wasn’t alone. "And butterscotch for her! The best butterscotch!"
The sweet little man scooped up a generous amount of gelato and handed it to Suya.
The princess took a bite and hummed in satisfaction, eyes half-lidded. "…This is really good."
Harpy’s chest swelled with pride. "I told you! I come here all the time after scouting missions—the texture is perfect, right? Not too sweet, but just creamy enough—"
She realised she was rambling.
She shut her mouth.
Princess Syalis just kept eating, blissfully unaware of Harpy’s internal crisis.
God. Stupid.. Stupid.. why was she always embarrassing herself in front of the princess?! can't she get one thing right..!
The princess was licking the counter. The old man watched in horror.
Somehow, they ended up outside, sitting on a quiet bench under the moonlight. Dark canvas dotted with twinkling stars. A full moon illuminates the night, casting long shadows and making the world appear almost magical. Harpy and Suya were entranced.
Darkness can be a fertile ground for spiritual growth. "The darker the night, the brighter the stars, the deeper the grief, the closer is God," as some may say. Cough. Dostoevsky. And yeah. Harpy felt extremely close to god. Well. Not god, more like heaven. BECAUSE SHE WAS WITH THE PRINCESS OF ALL PEOPLEEEEEEE. A HUMANNNNN PRINCESSS. Her heart felt like it was gonna burst. AUGHHGHGHGHGH princess Syalis is so cute! soft skin, majestic eyes, silky hair- GOD SHE WAS SO CUTE-! (Harpy needs to get her eyes checked. I'm never saying this BS again.)
Harpy wasn’t even sure how it happened. One moment, they were leaving the shop, and the next, Sya had plopped down with a sigh, staring up at the sky.
"…It’s nice out," she murmured.
Harpy, stiff as a board, nodded. "Y-yeah! The, uh, the moon is very… round."
Round?!
Suya didn’t seem to notice her panic. She just leaned back, letting out a soft sigh—and then, slowly, her head tilted.
Right onto Harpy’s shoulder.
Harpy stopped breathing.
The princess was asleep. On her. In the moonlight.
This was—
This was—
A DATE.
Her face burned. Her feathers puffed up. Her hands hovered awkwardly in the air, unsure where to put them.
"Do I move? Do I wake her? Do I—"
But the princess looked so peaceful.
Harpy swallowed hard and stayed perfectly still.
This was bad.
Her pulse was too loud. Her skin was too warm. Her thoughts were a jumbled mess of "She’s so cute" and "This is a date, right? Is this a date? It feels like a date."
She glanced down at the princess—soft features, slow breathing,and the faintest hint of a smile on her lips.
"..I wish I could get closer."
The thought hit her like a rogue gust of wind.
She wanted this. Wanted more of this. More quiet moments, more shared desserts, more—
Pajama parties.
Her face flamed even harder.
"No, no, no, that’s too much! She’s a princess! I’m just—just a scout!" She mentally scolded herself.
But princess Syalis had called her friend once.
And Harpy had treasured that word.
Harpy didn’t dare move.
Oh no. Oh no no no.
Her heart was pounding—so loud she was sure the princess could hear it. Her face burned, her feathers prickling with nervous energy. Every tiny shift of Syalis’ weight sent a jolt through her, electric and terrifying.
She’s so close. Too close.
Syalis’s hand rested limply in her lap, fingers curled slightly in sleep.
Harpy stared.
It would be so easy.
Just… just to reach over. To brush her claws against the princess’ knuckles, to see if her skin was as soft as it looked. To hold it. Just for a second.
Her own hand twitched in her lap.
"No. No, I can’t." She thought.
She clenched her fist, sharp claws digging into her palm.
Stupid. Stupid, stupid, stupid.
What was she thinking? The princess would wake up. She’d be disgusted. She’d leave. And then Harpy would be alone again, just like always—
A lump rose in her throat.
Her vision blurred.
No. Not now. Don’t cry. Don’t you dare cry.
But the pressure in her chest was unbearable. Her breath hitched, her lips trembling.
Why does this hurt so much?
She wanted to scream. To shake the princess awake and beg her—beg her—to just look at her. To see her. Not as some annoying pest, not as a weird bird-demon, but as—
As what?
A friend? Something more?
It doesn’t matter. She’ll never want me like that.
A tear slipped free.
She wiped it away furiously, but another followed. And another.
Stop it. Stop it stop it stop it—
S-She was more than the princess's sleep comforter.. right?
Syalis stirred.
Harpy froze, panic seizing her.
Oh no. Oh no, she’s waking up—she’s going to see—
But the princess just sighed, nestling closer, her nose brushing against Harpy’s collarbone.
Harpy’s breath caught.
For one perfect, agonising second, she let herself pretend.
Pretend that Syalis wanted to be this close. That she liked her. That maybe, just maybe, she felt the same terrifying, wonderful something that Harpy did.
Then reality crashed back in.
This isn’t real. She’s just sleepy. She doesn’t—she doesn’t—
Another tear fell.
This time, she didn’t wipe it away.
When Syalis finally woke, Harpy was composed.
(Or at least, she pretended to be.)
"…Mm. That was a good nap," the princess mumbled, stretching.
Harpy forced a smile. "Y-yeah! Glad you, uh, had fun!"
Syalis blinked at her, then—oh no—reached out to pat her shoulder.
"You’re warm. Good pillow."
Harpy’s heart shattered.
"T-thanks," she whispered.
And as she watched the princess walk away, humming absently, Harpy let the last of her tears fall.
"...’ll never be anything more than a pillow to her."
Harpy went to her quarters in the castle with a heavy heart that night.
Harpy had locked herself in her room, buried under a mountain of blankets and her own tangled wings. Her face was pressed into a pillow, muffling the occasional sniffle.
Stupid. Stupid. Stupid.
Why did she let herself hope? Why did she think—even for a second—that the princess might see her as anything more than a nuisance?
A sharp knock at the door.
"Sis."
Cursed Musician’s voice was flat, unimpressed.
Harpy didn’t answer. Maybe if she stayed quiet, he’d go away.
The door creaked open anyway.
"Ugh. You look pathetic."
Harpy peeked out from her blanket fortress, eyes red and puffy. "Go away," she croaked.
Her brother winced, he was still scared of his big sis even after all these years. Her beatings were too harsh. He was already rubbing his temple like he was regretting this. Then—without ceremony—he threw something at her.
Harpy fumbled, barely catching it before it hit her face.
A plushie.
A bird plushie.
Droopy-eyed, sobbing, with messy peach-colored feathers and little braided tufts of yarn on its head.
She stared.
"…What?"
Cursed Musician crossed his arms, looking extremely put-upon. "Princess said it was for you. Said she ‘didn’t know how to thank you’ or whatever, so she got you this. Said it looked like you." He rolled his eyes. "Honestly, it’s kind of insulting."
Harpy’s breath caught.
The plushie was ugly. Adorably, painfully ugly. Its wings were lopsided, its expression a perfect mix of miserable and endearing.
..She noticed.
The princess noticed her. Not just as some random demon, but as—
Her.
Harpy’s grip tightened on the plushie.
Then, without warning, she burst into tears.
"OH COME ON—" Cursed Musician groaned, throwing his hands up. "I HATE being the messenger for this sappy crap—" To be honest he wished he got a present too but whatever. He just wanted to see his sister not be upset anymore.
But Harpy wasn’t listening.
She clutched the plushie to her chest, sobbing into its stupid, droopy face.
"She thought of me. She really thought of me."
Her heart felt like it was going to explode.