Page 73 of The Princess and Her Grand King

"Nothing would bring me greater joy, Your Grace, but… uhm… " She gestured to the array of seedlings. "I must transplant these to the garden behind the fortress. It will take quite a while, and I cannot simply—"

"We will do it," several slaves volunteered in unison. The rest of the nearby workers chorused. "Just leave it to us, Princess Emeriel."

"Leave it to them," Daemonikai echoed, extending his hand with a smile.

With a resigned sigh, Emeriel placed her smaller hand in his, allowing him to lead her away.

But the further they ventured past the crowd, into more secluded areas, the stiffer her shoulders became.

Oh, she was mad, alright.

The best course of action would probably be to talk it out. To address the issues seperating them.

But their last attempt had ended disastrously, and Daemonikai was well aware of his deficiencies. He really wasn’t good at this. Not the talking, not the wooing.

So, he would play dirty. That was his plan.

The angry princess spun around. "I do not appreciate—"

Daemonikai shifted.

Body expanding, fur erupting along limbs, claws extending. His male form melted away, beast coming forth.

He stretched his powerful limbs, enjoying the familiar sensation of raw power flowing through his muscles. It had been a while.

"Oh..." Emeriel breathed, tension melting away in an instant. The anger vanished like it was never there.

For the first time since her return, he saw her eyes lit up. A genuine, dazzling smile spread across her face.

"Hey, friend." She raised her hand, palm open, extended to him.

His assumptions were correct. Emeriel’s animosity towards him did not extend to his beast. His Beloved was partial that way. For once, fortune was on his side.

Daemonikai had seen the memories of their relationship, knew just how much she adored his second-half.

The beast was, in a way, her first love.

Raising a massive paw, he pressed it gently against her outstretched hand, and she intertwined her fingers with his claws.

"How have you been?” she whispered in a soft, affectionate tone. “It’s been so long,"

I am fine, prettiest one, thanks to you.

"I know you can hear me." Her other hand dug into his fur. "It’s okay if you don’t respond."

She shot him a stern look. "I know what you did, Your Grace. Don’t think I’m unaware."

Daemonikai chuckled, the sound emerging as a rumbling snort from his beast.

"But I can forgive this," Emeriel conceded, smiling again. "I’ve missed the beast."

We missed you too, Beloved.

Did she not realize he and the beast were one and the same?

"My good friend," she said, in such a tender voice, reaching up. "My beast."

Yours, my dearest.

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