Page 142 of The Princess In A 'Prince' Disguise

"You've fought so hard, Vladya," Ottai had said, his voice thick with emotion, blood gushing from his wounds. "Not just tonight, but with Daemonikai as well. Part of the reason I did not oppose Zaiper in court, as I usually do, is because I think it's time to let him go. This is not healthy. Look at what it's doing to you."

Vladya had offered no response. His head rested against the cool stone wall, eyes closed.

“Part of me wishes Daemon had died that night instead of what happened.” Ottai's voice had cracked, the weight of five centuries of grief pressing down on him. "We would have mourned him properly, given him the farewell he deserved. Just as we mourned all the others. Your bondmate, Tiara. Daemon's sons, Alvin and Myka, and his bondmate, Evielyn. My son, Uriel. Even Zaiper's brother, Kristoff." His sigh was a ragged exhalation of pain. "Maybe, if we had mourned him then, things would be different now."

"Perhaps," Vladya had conceded, reluctantly.

"This is better. Better for him, at least. He would not have to face the reality of all he has lost, Vlad. He lost so much. So much."

Vladya's eyes followed the expanse of the blackened sky, coming out of the memory. The faint stars were barely visible. Maybe Ottai was right. It would be unfair for Daemonikai to return to a life of misery.How could any male survive the loss of his bondmate and offsprings?

Vladya had only lost his bondmate, and yet he was shattered. He and Tiara had not even sealed the bond in finality or shared a life together. He could not begin to fathom the depths of Daemon's anguish, a bond severed after almost four thousand years.

A sharp rap on the door broke the silence, and Merilyn entered with a respectful bow. "My Lord."

"What brings you here, Merry? I do not need to bloodfeed." Vladya said, gazing at the flickering lamplight.

Merilyn settled onto a plush cushion, her eyes searching his face. "I know. But you needed a friend, dear Vlad. Henry told me everything." Her voice was soft, filled with warmth. "Whatever you are planning, do not do it."

"I am not planning anything."

"I know you, master. You may deceive the world, but not me. I am certain that you are thinking of ways to prevent them from killing the beast."

Vladya rubbed his temples. A headache pounded his skull relentlessly like a locksmith. "I am not. Like everyone else, I too believe it is time for Daemon to find peace."

Merilyn snorted, but did not press the issue. She proceeded to share the details of her day, her household, and the upcoming arrival of her baby. Her face lit up as she spoke about the baby,and truthfully, Vladya felt a glimmer of comfort hearing her talk about the baby. Not much, but it was something.

It was Merry's way of trying to distract and cheer him up. And because he liked Merry, for a fleeting moment, it worked. He engaged with her, listening to her tales of mundane joys and worries.

As she prepared to leave, she turned back to him, her eyes filled with concern. "Please, do not do it. Whatever it is you are thinking. My Beloved saw what happened in court today—and that was only because he knows about your mental state, so he recognized the signs when others did not. He said you had a beastflare. One that you struggled to control."

"I did not struggle to control it; I simply chose not to. There is a difference."

"Oh, Vlad. Please take care of yourself. I am greatly concerned for you. If there is anything you need, please do not hesitate to ask," she pleaded.

"I do need something. Send a maid to me when you leave. It does not matter which one."

"A maid, you say?" Merilyn scrutinized him. "With the headache you are nursing, do you truly believe a random female will meet your needs tonight?"

"A random female has always met my needs, Merilyn It is not as if I have anyone I am emotionally connected with, right?” His gaze bore into hers.

Merilyn's face paled, guilt and pain warring in her eyes. "Forgive me, Vlad. I did not mean it that way. I would be the last person on earth to speak so carelessly about your deceased bondmate."

Vladya sighed. "I know. Go home to Henry, Merilyn."

"What about Aekeira? Surely, she would—"

"No," he snapped, his voice sharp. Through gritted teeth, he added, "Do. Not. Even. Suggest. It." The darkness returned to his eyes.

Merilyn recoiled, fear momentarily drowning out concern. "I-I'm sorry."

Vladya took a deep breath to calm himself, then blinked hard, the darkness fading as quickly as it had come.

"Just send a maid, Merilyn." He stepped back, closing the door with a finality that left no room for argument.

Chapter forty-five

MIDNIGHT WANTS

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