Page 57 of The Princess and Her Grand King

Emeriel nodded. That much she knew. "Did you hear about the attempt on your life?" she asked, changing the subject.

"That too." He released her hand, his face hardening. "Ottai has already begun the investigation."

"Yes. If the assassin was indeed acting under orders, we all hope the culprit is found." Emeriel tugged at her hand. "If you'll excuse me, Your Highness."

He took his time releasing her. But when he did, Emeriel made her escape.

"Emeriel?"

Those butterflies in the pit of her stomach fluttered again. She paused at the door, but didn't turn.

"Thank you for saving my life… again."

"You saved mine two years ago. It’s only right I return the favor."

"Come back later," he said in a low plea. "Please."

Emeriel couldn't have walked away fast enough.

***

She did not return the rest of the day.

Nor the day after.

As his body slowly mended itself, Grand King Daemonikai's strength gradually returned. As the days passed, he began to feel like his old self again.

His soul was still wounded, but further symptoms of progression had mercifully ceased. No sign of full recovery yet, but they all hoped it would come. Eventually.

What Daemonikai hated most about illnesses was the confinement. Ottai and his people were adamant he remain bedridden.

He was not to rise until the last of his herbs and potions had worked their magic. Until his strength fully returned.

Every day, his people sent him gifts. Bunches of medicinal fragrant plants, cuts of rare meat. A famine ravaged the land, yet they still gave what little they had to their king.

A famine that would not be here if Daemonikai had stepped up as the Ultimate Ruler he was and stopped wallowing in his pain.

He pushed the guilt away.Better late than never.

They hadn’t given up on him, even when Daemonikai had long given up on himself. He was beyond grateful.

But now, their concern bordered on overbearing. Their insistence on his complete rest meant he was bound to the bed like a prisoner.

So, here he was, the days dragging by, his world revolving around his bedchambers. And with them came the torture of waiting.

Every passing hour, he stared at the door, waiting for Emeriel to return. She didn't come, and he didn't summon her. He simply… waited.

Hoping she would walk through the door all on her own.

Three more days crawled by.

The good news was he felt like his old self again. Perhaps even stronger. More focused.

His strength was fully restored, and tonight, the last of his herb treatment would be delivered. Tonight marked the end of his confinement.

Despite being bedridden, he had resumed his royal duties. There was so much to do, and Daemonikai was already going crazy from all the inactivity.

So he conducted meetings in his chambers, devising strategies to combat the famine while waiting for the rain. He had summoned the rainmakers the day before, and the ritual to beseech the skies to open… to draw down the long-needed rain… was already underway.

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