Page 34 of The Slave in A Princess Disguise

Emeriel's heart pounded like a war drum as the grand dining hall's double doors swung open, revealing a sight of wealth and power. Walls draped in rich tapestries and a long table set with gleaming silver and crystal that sparkled under the chandeliers.

The memory of the mistress’s resentment and seething rage sent a shiver down her spine. Emeriel could still feel the icy daggers of that glare burrowing into her back.

Why hadn't she just handed over the feast?That would have been the easiest way to avoid trouble.

Standing up to the mistress had been foolish. It would just give the vile woman ten more reasons to drag her into the woods, end her life, and leave her body buried beneath a bed of fallen leaves, with no one the wiser.

Emeriel sighed. When it came to the mistress, she often found herself unable to restrain her emotions, her self-control frequently faltering. The woman evoked a firestorm of anger, defiance, and all the feelings she had worked hard to suppress for the sake of survival in this place.

"Human?"

The deep, familiar voice froze Emeriel mid-step, sending a different kind of shiver down her spine.

"Your Grace," she managed, barely remembering to bow.

He stilled, his silverware suspended mid-bite. His eyes found hers. "That voice…"

Hell, hell, hell.Emeriel's mind raced.

Does he recognize me?

"Y-Yes, Your Grace?" Her heart was lodged firmly in her throat.

Their eyes met, his green ones unreadable.

Panic surged through Emeriel.Why is he staring? Does he know who I am? Why—

A horrified gasp from one of the Urekai maids snapped Emeriel out of her trance. With a jolt, she realized she had stopped dead in the doorway, standing awkwardly in plain sight—a few paces away from the grand king.

He did not recognize her... he was waiting for her to drop the tray she carried.

"I-I apologize, Your Grace!" Emeriel blurted out, rushing forward, her face flushing with embarrassment. Her hands shook as she hastily arranged the dishes.

King Daemonikai’s gaze burned into the back of her head. That look inspired a mix of fear, mortification, and— to her utter dismay—arousal.

Finally, Emeriel was done. She bowed deeply, then rose to join the other servers lined up against the wall.

The grand king's eyes lingered on her for a fraction longer before dismissing her with a cold indifference. There was no recognition in those emerald depths. No trace of the warmth he had shown Princess Galilea earlier.

Instead, his gaze was as frigid as ice. His broad shoulders were rigid with tension and power. He radiated an aura of silent warning:Come close to me and die.

After he ate in silence, they cleared the table. Emeriel had one foot out the door when the sound of that deep, authoritative voice stopped her.

"The human stays. The rest leave."

The other servers filed out, passing her in a blur of movement, until she was alone with the grand king.

His eyes fixed on her once more. That same unnerving gaze he had directed at Princess Galilea earlier.

Emeriel shifted uncomfortably.

He remained seated, his posture stiff. "You do not have a scent. Why?"

Emeriel's tongue felt thick and heavy. "I... uh... I don't know, Your Grace. I just—"

"Never mind." He cut her off with a wave of his hand. "It is not my concern, and I do not care. But why, in the name of all that is holy, does it bother me, human?"

"Huh?" Emeriel blinked, confused.

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