Page 142 of The Slave in A Princess Disguise

"Can you tell me about them?" she asked, hesitant. "Your family?"

A long silence reigned, and Emeriel wondered if he had heard her. She could feel the tension in his body, the way his muscles tightened at her question.

"I cannot," he uttered at last, so low, she almost missed it. "It hurts too much to talk about."

The amount of pain in those few words shattered the last of Emeriel's fragile hope. Any lingering thoughts she had of them being together, of the bond working out, disappeared like a gust of wind.

Thismalewas too hurt, too broken. He walked through life as if everything was fine, leading his people, masking the truth of how completely shattered he was inside. But Emeriel saw it now, clearer than ever.He has not yet grieved, there is no healing within sight.

"You still have trouble sleeping, don’t you?" she murmured.

"It was easier when I could not manage at all. I see them every night in my dreams.” His tone was raspy. “Their faces are still soclear, as if it all happened yesterday. I should have told Alvin I forgave him, that I held no grudge against him. I should not have told Myka to protect his mother with his life… that it was okay to save himself. I should have protected them. I failed them all."

Emeriel gave in to the need to comfort him, rubbing his side in slow, soothing circles. "I do not know them, but from everything I’ve heard, you raised wonderful children, my king. I do not believe they would ever think you failed them. You protected your people."

"Yet the kingdom moves on while my world crumbled around me," he said bitterly. "I do not regret saving over five thousand lives that night. But I regret with every fiber of my being not saving my family. That guilt will be forever etched into my soul."

"Your Grace..."

"Sleep, little one.” he cut her off gently, his hand resting in her hair. “If your exhaustion is so great that it seeps throughmymental shield, then you need rest."

His words took a moment to register, but when they did, her brow furrowed. "Mental shield?"

"Yes." King Daemonikai resumed stroking her hair. "At a later time, I will teach you how to set up your own mental shield... to suppress the bond when it becomes too much, to control the foreign emotions you can feel from me," he sighed. "I reckon it’s harder for you. You have felt the bond longer, even when I was feral. But with a proper shield, you can learn to control it, learn how to manage it."

She nodded slowly, her eyes fluttering closed.

"For now, you sleep."

Since Vladya had promised Daemonikai he would fight his madness, he had taken up running to release pent-up energy, to find some semblance of relaxation.

The voices in his head were quieter, as they had been for the past few days. Less distracting, his thoughts remained clearer.

The librarian had even brought every book, every record on feral conditions into his chambers, and Vladya had poured over them, garnering knowledge he might not already possess.

At dawn, after a long run through the woods, his body felt refreshed as he made his way to his chambers, only to pause at the familiar scent lingering in the air. If Yaz hadn't alerted him to Daemonikai's presence, the smell of his friend would have.

Daemonikai was already in his study, sitting at Vladya's desk, his head bowed, fingers drumming rhythmically against the wood.

"Come on in, make yourself at home," Vladya said sarcastically as he stepped inside.

Daemonikai did not respond. Not that Vladya expected him to. He had been worried about his friend these past few days.

"Hey..." Vladya approached, moving to stand in front of him, leaning casually against the table. "How are you holding up? You smell like her, so I take it you finally paid her a visit."

“You knew all about this and hid it from me.” It was not a question.

Vladya had known this would come sooner or later. “I wished to hide it for as long as possible. That was why I placed her on suppressants,” he confessed. "I know I should not have done that, but I could not think of how else to protect you."

"And her."

"And her," Vladya confirmed, shrugging. "I have a soft spot for the girl."

"I’m going to let her go."

Vladya nodded. "I already figured that—"

"No." His drumming fingers stilled. "I’m going to let her go."

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