Catgirls And Dungeons (Yuri)-Chapter 119: Destroyed diary

According to Irene's report… Morvena might like girls, just like me.

But the thing is, nothing was ever confirmed, not directly. There are only hints, fleeting moments recorded in her diary, tucked away between her daily routines and quiet interactions with the few people she trusted.

Because… of course.

She was sheltered, guarded, rarely allowed to step beyond the walls of her family's estate. How could she even begin to understand herself then? To explore what she really wants, what she truly feels?

Even Irene, who read everything… said the girl herself didn't seem certain.

And she said… it's only a 90% chance.

Ninety percent that she's like me.

That she could love me.

That we could… be something more.

Well, at at first glance, that number should be reassuring. It should feel close. Comforting.

But I don't know…

It doesn't seem like so.

To me, that ninety percent number is still too damn small.

Because… it now holds everything.

All my hope.

All my fear.

And the rest ten percent is the space where heartbreak lives.

And thus, now I'm stuck—heart pounding, head spinning—desperately wanting to know, but terrified of pushing too far.

Ah…

What am I even supposed to do?

I'm Felicia Aurelia di Ventaria, the Princess of this Kingdom.

Feared, powerful, untouchable.

I have battled countless monsters and demons.

Even death itself does not scare me one bit.

However… when it comes to this…

To love?

To feelings?

To Morvena?

Gods…

I'm just as clueless as she is.

Maybe even more.

—————-

And so…

The torn pages drift down around us, fluttering through the air like delicate confetti—white and weightless, yet heavy with the weight of secrets that will never be read.

They spiral in the soft candlelight, scattering across the marble floor like snowflakes.

I watch them fall.

Each slip of parchment spins past my vision, fragments of ink catching in my eyes like distant echoes. My vision sharpens instinctively. If I focus, my eyes can work so fast, my brain can process things so quickly so that I can even capture the hummingbird's wings mid-flutter, making it seems like slow motion, like time has come to a near stop.

And so, I instinctively do that.

I gaze across all the pieces, thousands, no, millions of them.

Catching glimpses.

Faint impressions…

Shattered words among the paper storm.

'Her.'

'Highness.'

'Her Highness Felicia…'

'Felicia…'

Again.

And again.

And again.

I'm everywhere.

My name, like a pulse, beating across the pages.

Hundreds of times, maybe more.

Damn…

I know she wrote about me…

But… this much?

Whaat???

Aaaaaa… I want to scream.

Curiosity is killing me now!

I wonder what did she truly feel? What did she think as she scribbled those thoughts down in secret?

However… well… it doesn't matter now.

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The words are gone. Gone with the fluttering paper.

There's no bringing them back.

The only thing I can do now… is I close my eyes, and let it go, let the last few pages fall over me like silent feathers.

Their fall is soft.

Gentle.

Final.

Meanwhile, beside me… Morvena slumps to the floor.

Her breathing is ragged, shallow and sharp like someone surfacing from deep water. One hand grips her chest tightly, as though she's trying to hold her heart together. She's trembling. Still visibly shaking, even now.

Well, seeing her like this, so fragile, so exposed…

I don't feel regret anymore.

Yes. it was indeed the right decision, to destroy the diary.

I'm glad I chose it over curiosity.

If I had read her diary—forced myself past her fear—I might've broken something precious before it even had the chance to grow.

And of course, I'm not giving up either.

Not at all!

After all, there's more than one way to this!

As Morvena's my knight now, she'll be by my side every day, morning to night, seven days a week. I will have time—all the time in the world—to get to know her, to be close to her, to understand her at her own pace.

Yes, I have to be patient.

Let it grow slowly.

Let our connection bloom on its own, built it slowly through trust.

And maybe, someday… I hope… she'll open up to me not because she must, but because she wants to.

"Haizzz…"

I breathe out.

The tension begins to fade.

And the moment feels… soft again.

Quiet.

The firelight flickers lazily on the walls. My skin still glows faintly from the warmth of the massage oil. And as I glance down at her, still kneeling at my feet, I can't help but smile a little.

Alright then!

I start cheering myself up with more positivity.

The night is still long.

Why not let go of this heavy moment… just for now?

Why not let myself enjoy the simple pleasure of her amazing foot massage? She's only finished one leg, after all. There's still another to go—another hour of watching her hands work, of admiring her from above while pretending not to.

So, with a soft chuckle, I shift my position slightly, extending my other leg toward her, lips parting to deliver another teasing command—

But then—

"I'm a lesbian."

Suddenly, the words fall from her lips so quietly they almost vanish into the air. Almost.

But at the same time, those soft words, shatters my reality.

And then… the world just—stops.

The flames in the lamps seem to freeze. The air stills. My body locks.

I stare at her.

Wide-eyed. Unbreathing.

My heart doesn't beat.

And then—

Ba-dump.

Ba-dump!

BA-DUMP!

It suddenly slams back to life—thundering like a war drum in my ears, deafening and wild!!!

BA-DUMP! BA-DUMP! BA-DUMP!

"S-say that again?" I whisper, stunned. My voice barely escapes my throat. I feel like I'm choking on it.

That ache returns—the nausea, the pressure, the awful, tightening twist of something buried too long suddenly surging back up, all at once, drowning me.

I think I heard her right.

But I could be wrong.

My mind might be playing tricks on me. After all, I'm not exactly in the best state to process anything right now.

I'm shaking.

Gods, I'm shaking!

Morvena gulps hard. Her lips press together in a trembling line. Her arms quiver, her fingers curling slightly in her lap.

She looks so small.

So fragile.

So breakable.

"I… I'm a lesbian, Your Highness…" she says at last, her voice cracking under the weight of her own truth. "T-that's why I didn't want you to read the diary…"