Page 43 of The Princess and Her Grand King

He nodded against her. "I pushed you away so you wouldn’t see me go feral. But in the end… when it came down to it…youwere all I wanted to see one last time." His arms encircled her waist. "I wanted to see your beautiful face, hear your lovely voice… one last time.I regret sending you away, Aekeira."

Mist clouded Aekeira’s vision again. Why couldn’t this male just be hers? Why did the universe have to make everything so complicated?

Gods, could you please take away the madness? Give him his soul?

Could you please make me a Syren too?Make us so compatible that if we attempt a bonding ritual, it would succeed.

Gods, if wishes were horses… would you let this beggar ride?

Tears slipped down Aekeira’s cheeks, leaving a wet trail as she returned his hug.

***

"I don’t want him to claw at you, Emeriel," Lord Ottai cautioned, leaning casually against the wall, as he watched her spread out the grand king's feast before the table.

"I know, Lord Ottai. I do not wish for him to claw at me either," Emeriel replied, glancing at King Daemonikai’s still form. "But you said it’s been days since he had any kind of nourishment. If this continues, he will only grow weaker, and he needs his strength to return."

With a brass spoon, Emeriel scooped up a portion of porridge, and tenderly nudged the spoon towards the grand king’s lips.

Though his body remained still, claws sprang out from his hands. Sharp and deadly, ready to strike.

Lord Ottai immediately straightened. "Now will be the time to stop—"

But Emeriel placed her other hand on King Daemonikai's arm. "Don’t do that, Beloved," her voice dropped to a soothing murmur.

She intertwined her fingers with his, her small hand dwarfed by his. Same long, sharp claws she had seen tear through enemies with ease slowly curled around her hand.

Not to harm, but to hold.

Emeriel bit back her gasp, squeezing gently. "Eat, Beloved."

King Daemonikai’s mouth opened slightly.

"Ukrae’s scent…" Lord Ottai’s mouth hung open, staring at Emeriel as if she had grown a second head.

For the first time since entering the room, a faint smile tugged at Emeriel’s lips. She scooped the porridge into King Daemonikai’s mouth, and he swallowed, his throat working as he chewed.

"He can hear you," Lord Ottai’s voice cracked. The fourth ruler looked close to tears. "I think he can hear you, Emeriel."

"Maybe." Emeriel was equally surprised but concealing it well. She hadn't truly believed it would work. "Maybe he does."

Lord Ottai hovered for the rest of the meal, watching her with awe and animation. He only left when an urgent message arrived, calling him away to Mabblewood.

Emeriel finished feeding King Daemonikai, satisfied that he had eaten enough, before rising to take her leave.

It had been a long, draining day, and she longed for the comfort of her bed.

But as she turned a corner, a hand shot out, grabbing her hair from behind. Yanking it hard enough to make her stumble.

Emeriel jerked back to avoid having her hair torn from the roots.

"You think you can just run your mouth at me!?" hissed Mistress Sinai, tightening her grip. "You think you can waltz in here,unwantedandunwelcome, moving freely as if your filthy self owns this place?"

"Mistress," Emeriel gritted out, one hand reaching up to clamp firmly around Mistress Sinai’s fist, preventing her from pulling any harder and potentially scalping her. “Let go, let’s discuss this like two adults.”

"There is only one adult here, and it's not you. You are nothing but a mere fly. Let me remind you, that you are only as free asIallow you to be—OUCH!" the mistress screeched.

Emeriel had stomped down hard on the mistress's foot, forcing her grip to loosen.

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