Page 141 of The Princess and Her Grand King

Daemonikai almost allowed himself a smile at their stunned faces. Almost.

They hadn’t expected him to go this far, but his mind was made up. His decision had been cemented long before this moment.

“I have given everything for this kingdom. My strength, my family, my sanity. Today, I am claiming something in return. If my people cannot stand by me in this, then perhaps they do not deserve me as their king.”

“But, Your Grace, it has not gotten to that,” Jakal said in sheer horror.

“I would rather give up the grand throne than throw away this second chance. A rare opportunity for happiness the gods themselves have gifted me.”

No one said a word.

A pang of pity rose within Daemonikai at the look on their faces. They hadn’t asked for this.

“I understand this is not what you expected. I know this is difficult for you. My people did not ask for these circumstances, nor did I.” He took a breath, his tone shifting to one of earnest plea. “I will not impose this as law, nor will I force any of you to accept Princess Emeriel. All I ask is that you give her a chance. Do not see her as a human; see her as mine. My Syren, my woman, mySoulbond.”

His voice deepened with emotion. “She has proven herself worthy time and time again. There is no one more befitting to stand as Grand Queen. All I ask is that you give her a chance.”

He turned to Emeriel, his gaze locking onto her tear-streaked face, her muffled sobs threatening to break the fragile quiet of the court.

Warmth filled his chest, a fierce protectiveness rising in him.

“Join me, Beloved,” he said gently, extending his hand toward her once more.

Emeriel's steps were tentative, but each footfall echoed, her silken gown rustling softly. Her hand found his, and Daemonikai pulled her onto the podium beside him.

Turning, he faced her, looking deep into her eyes. “I know I have apologized to you in private, but I want to formally apologize to you here, in front of everyone.”

"Daemon—"

“I am sorry for hurting you." His voice soft easily carried through the room. "For making you endure the excruciating pain of a severed bond. For every moment of suffering I caused. I apologize for it all.”

“Shhh, it’s okay.” Emeriel’s hand covered his mouth, her watery smile lighting her tearful face. “How many times will you apologize, Daemon? Please stop. I’ve heard everything, and…” She swallowed hard. “I don’t deserve you.”

She turned her gaze to the court, her voice wavering. “I don’t deserve any of this.”

Her eyes returned to him, glistening with new tears. “But I hope one day I will. I hope one day I can stand proudly by your side, my head held high, confident that I deserve to be there.” She smiled.

“To the court, I wish to offer my deepest apologies." She faced the council fully, drawing a deep breath. "I deceived all of you in the past, disguising myself as a male when I was, in fact, a female. I did what I felt I had to, to survive. I know that may not excuse my actions, but it is the only explanation I can give.”

Placing both hands gracefully against her belly, Emeriel stood tall before them, keeping her voice steady. “I love the grand king deeply. I have for a long time, even when he was only a mindless feral. Please, grant me a chance. Teach me how to be better. I wish to learn from the noble lords of this court how to properly serve Urai.”

Her eyes looked around the hall, unwavering yet soft. “I know it will take time for the people to accept me, but I will wait. I will work tirelessly for it. So that one day, the people will look beyond my species and see just me… Emeriel Evenstone, the Syren. TheSoulbondof Grand King Daemonikai.”

With that, she bowed. A deep, full-belly bow of humility and respect.

Complete silence.

Only the soft rustle of Emeriel's gown and the quiet echo of her last words hung in the air.

A single pair of hands began to clap, Vladya's. His eyes shining with a newfound respect.

Soon, Ottai joined in, his clap enthusiastic and booming.

Then a high lord from the roundtable. And another.

One by one, others around the roundtable joined the applause, the sound swelling and reverberating through the grand hall.

It was not just polite; it was genuine. Carrying with it an undercurrent of approval.

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