Page 57 of The Princess In A 'Prince' Disguise

"They weren't. The fellows wanted a piece of them," Master Boris said before they could talk.

"Stupid old fools.” Master Gaine grunted, continuing to mix ale with cider. ”Emeriel, get in here and help with this. Amie, go out and serve more customers."

They got to work without further delay.

"Just drop the food in and get out, Clay," The soldier ordered outside the metal gates of the forbidden chambers.

"I simply want to get a closer look at it. Besides, it is crouched lazily behind the barricade. I have always wondered what the grand king looked like up close.” His friend inched closer, daring to press his face to the gate. “Creator, his beast is magnificent."

"You have only worked here for months. Take advice from soldiers who have been here before you—you do not want to be standing so close to that beast."

"Pfft. It is not as dangerous as you all make it out to be, Sage.” Clay waved him off. “Wow, his talons are much more prominent than I've ever seen. Perhaps he will—"

An eerie sound rang through the air.

Sage turned around to face the chamber, a chill sliding down his body at the sight before him.

The beast stood in the center of the room, licking the blood off its hand.

Clay's lifeless body lay in one corner, while his head, torn from his neck, bled in another.

Sage stood frozen, unable to move.

The beast's yellow eyes fixed upon him, and he found the strength and bolted.

He ran through the haunting corridors of the forbidden chambers, making his way towards Blackstone. Grand Lord Vladya had sternly instructed them to inform him of incidents like this.

Sage arrived at the ruler's door and announced himself.

With his soldiers trailing behind him, Grand Lord Vladya made his way to the southern wing. "I reckon his food is already on the floor. Have the cook serve a new meal. I want it quickly delivered in the forbidden chambers."

"As you wish, Your Highness." The guard bowed, then hastened away.

When Vladya reached the forbidden chambers, the meal was indeed on the floor, covered in blood. The beast was back behind its barricades, staring at him with lazy eyes.

An amateur might mistake it for nonchalance, but Lord Vladya knew better. It was deceiving its prey, silently hunting, waiting to pounce.

"Leave us," he commanded.

Bowing slightly, the soldiers departed.

"Is this one of those days you refuse to eat?" VLadya asked, eyeing the beast.

"You do remember that while the blood sustains us as Urekai, we still need food, right?" And Vladya needed him to consume those herbs.

After Daemonikai turned feral, Vladya spent a fortune on thousands of herbs.

According to the mages, some were meant to clear the mind. To soothe and calm. Reduce madness. Provide solace.

Some diminished the beast's power, giving the male form greater control.

He had thought by administering all those herbs—all those pills and potions—that Daemonikai’s mind would miraculously return.

Grand Lord Vladya snorted.

Of course, now he finally accepted how fruitless and futile it was. But old habits die hard.

So, even after all these centuries, he still procured supplies of those herbs and made sure the beast consumed them regardless.

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