11. AS HOPE BLOOMS…
Chapter eleven
AS HOPE BLOOMS…
One week later.
Grand Lord Zaiper let out another uproarious laugh, his voice echoing throughout the room. Sprawled lazily across the table in nothing but a flimsy pair of undershorts, his broad shoulders shook with amusement as Razarr kneaded the tense muscles beneath his skin
"So, let me get this straight," Zaiper drawled, wiping tears of mirth from his eyes. "A human, not just any human, but a tiny human girl , knocked you around and turned your lights off, now you want me to punish her in court for it?"
Mistress Sinai clenched her teeth, the heat of embarrassment rising in her cheeks. It was bad enough, but hearing Zaiper mock her made it worse.
Every time she recalled Emeriel's effortless takedown, Sinai wanted to crawl into the ground.
She had woken up to the concerned faces of her maids, crowding around her, asking if she was alright. The shame had been so great, she had lied, telling them she felt lightheaded and fainted. The humiliation burned her from the inside out.
This was the first time she had spoken of the incident. Sinai wanted retribution. Wanted to see Emeriel not just punished, but humiliated .
But instead, here she was, watching Zaiper laugh at her until his eyes watered, reducing her to a laughingstock.
Zaiper moaned, as his head guard— and lover —pressed down on a particularly tense knot in his shoulder. "That is a good one." Turning to Sinai, he smiled. "You mean, a little touch on the neck, and poof… lights out?"
"It was not a ‘little touch,’" Sinai snapped, not for the first time. "I have no idea what she did, but it hurt like the whips of hell."
"Mmm," Zaiper hummed skeptically. "Maybe you should consider attending training sessions. You'd need it if your lights go out at the slightest caress."
Sinai’s eyes flashed angrily. "That's not what this is about, and you know it . It happened so fast—" She paused, breathing hard. "You know what, forget it. Just tell me when and how she will be punished."
Zaiper let out a long sigh, his amusement slowly ebbing. "I’m afraid you are on your own with this one, dearest Sinai."
"What?"
"Firstly, the court dislikes involving itself in petty female squabbles. We have far more pressing matters to attend to.” He lifted a hand, gesturing lazily.
"Secondly, the female in question has a lot of attention on her right now. Something like this could backfire spectacularly. People might hate her more, or they might hate you more. They might even protest in her favor, which, let’s be honest, would be even more humiliating for you.”
Mistress Sinai's stomach churned.
"And lastly." Zaiper glared at her "Which is the most crucial point, really. I cannot involve myself in anything that concerns Emeriel."
Sinai bit back her frustration. "But why!?"
"Because, dear Sinai, I have no desire to be thrust into the spotlight again when it comes to that female.” Zaiper’s eyes slid shut as Razarr’s hands moved on his lower back. "You know what happened in the courtyard after her deception was revealed. I have no intention of being accused of going after her again or harboring ill will towards Daemonikai. The people are already looking for a scapegoat, and it will not be me."
Sinai stared at him, flabbergasted.
"I plan to take over his throne, but it wouldn't benefit me if people knew I harbored ill will for their beloved grand king. Don't you agree?" He rolled his shoulders, clearly enjoying Razarr’s touch. "So, no, I won’t interfere. Not when it has nothing to do with me, nor offers any benefit to my cause. You’ll have to sort this one out on your own."
Sinai couldn't believe her ears. She simply couldn't believe this.
"Don’t give me that look, lovely Sinai. My hands really are tied.” Zaiper chuckled. “Worry not, I will make it up to you in another way."
"This is the only way I want!" Sinai was so angry she could spit nails. "And why are you so cheerful today, anyway? Is there a special occasion I’m unaware of?"
"Why, of course," he drawled, stretching languidly. "If I’m to be grand king soon, I might as well start getting ready, don’t you think?"
She eyed him suspiciously. "What is it this time?"
"My plans are already in motion, sweet Sinai. Tonight, Daemonikai will die."
Her heart skipped a beat, but she schooled her expression. "And how do you plan on getting this done?"
"Oh, it’s quite simple, really. Nothing grand or complicated,” Zaiper purred. “I handed a human a weapon capable of killing him with a single stab to the chest. A killer disguised as a mere herbalist."
Sinai mulled over his words. "You handed this human one of our relics?" That would be reckless, even for Zaiper.
Zaiper scoffed. "I would never be so foolish, of course not. Just a normal dagger, laced with our poisons. Ottai will be in Mabblewood tonight, so my killer will slip past the guards under the pretense of delivering herbs."
He smiled. "If all goes well, the human will be handsomely rewarded. If it goes south, the human takes the blame, or I'll eliminate their entire family. It's a win-win situation."
"It is," she finally muttered, "if your plan goes accordingly."
"Good. Now, as I was saying, perhaps it’s time you return to the training fields if a mere tap from a small human can knock you unconscious."
Just like that, Sinai's annoyance was back, accompanied by her never-ending embarrassment.
***
"This place is beautiful," Aekeira exclaimed, her sunny smile beaming as she plucked a delicate cherry blossom from a nearby branch. "So peaceful, too."
Grand Lord Vladya couldn’t tear his eyes away from her. Every movement she made, every step she took, his eyes followed.
He had brought her to his favorite sanctuary within the woods, a place he had discovered a millennium ago.
Now, standing there watching Aekeira, he realized the most beautiful sight here wasn’t the blossoms or the tranquil scenery—it was her .
Aekeira had visited him every day, never failing to arrive with a bag filled with nourishing food, ripe fruits, and an assortment of herbs she claimed would be good for him.
He hadn’t asked for it, yet she took care of him. Not only did she want him to fight, she wanted to fight alongside him.
Judging by her constant variety of herbs, she had clearly paid a visit to the royal healer. Faiwick must have been all too willing to help.
Aekeira hovered like a mother hen to make sure he took every concoction. Of course, she attempted to disguise her fuss, and Vladya played along.
He knew if he acknowledged her attentiveness, those cute, fierce blushes would spread across her cheeks, and she would flee.
As much as he enjoyed watching her go shy and flustered, he had grown to like her constant hovering even better.
When was the last time any female had fussed over him like this? With such genuine care and devotion?
Way too long.
Vladya didn't think he’d enjoy it, but he did. More than that— he looked forward to it every day.
"Is that not gardenia!?" Aekeira skipped over to the patch of white flowers. "So pretty! Em and I have tried growing them for years, but they always die on us. Notoriously difficult to grow."
Aekeira’s enthusiasm was infectious. She could talk endlessly when comfortable, and when the conversation turned to things she was passionate about, like plants or her life with Emeriel, she became even more animated.
And Vladya enjoyed listening to her.
It was almost unbelievable how much he enjoyed everything about Aekeira.
He used to think things wouldn’t feel the same, with his sexual urges dulled. After all, if there was one thing he had always been certain of, it was his great lust for her.
She had always sparked his desire. Always made him hungry .
Just the sight of her was enough to set him off, make him want to mount her. He thought with those senses muted, something vital would be lost.
But it wasn’t.
Different, yes, but somehow… better.
In the past week, Vladya had come to know Aekeira in ways he never had before.
He now knew that she loved to knit, even though she wasn’t particularly good at it. Unlike Emeriel, she wasn’t skilled in combat. She had a hearty appetite when excited, and sullen eating habits when moody.
He learned that when something made her truly happy, she laughed so hard she giggled. A sound that embarrassed her to no end.
"It’s so unladylike," she’d said once, her cheeks warm. "My governess would have been furious if she’d ever heard it."
But Vladya loved that laugh.
It was open, free, carrying with it a joy that lit up everything around her.
He had only heard her laugh like that once, when she’d recounted a story about the mischief she and Emeriel had gotten into as children. The sound of that unrestrained laughter, followed by a sweet giggle, had imprinted. Vladya hoped to hear more of it in the future.
He didn’t need the sexlust to feel drawn to her. In many ways, this bond they were building was more meaningful. He was learning who she was, piece by piece, and every new discovery made him feel… more .
"Are you alright?" Aekeira's voice broke through his reverie, concern bringing her close to his side. "Do we need to go?"
Her subtle way of asking: Is it the madness? Is your beast about to flare? Or worse?
"No, I am fine." And surprisingly, he was.
For a male who had more bad days than good over the years, he had only experienced one such day since Aekeira’s return.
The madness, the dark whispers urging him to hurt, to kill, to rampage, had quieted.
Even his beast, ever restless and ready to strike, had fallen silent.
A relieved smile appeared on Aekeira's lips. "When we get back, I'll give you the herbal drink I made. I heard it helps calm the mind."
'Heard.' Vladya’s lips twitched. Most likely, Faiwick had drilled it into her. "Alright."
"Come, let’s go up the hill." She took his hand—the paw one—her excitement infectious. "I want to see what’s beyond it."
A serene lake.
But he kept his silence, allowing her to lead him. He was beginning to realize how much he enjoyed living in Aekeira's world, experiencing the wonder and excitement anew.
This was the most alive he had felt in centuries. She made him feel alive.
"Heavens! Look! A beautiful lake!" she squealed, the sound definitely unladylike.
And there it was—the blush of shame creeping up her neck.
Vladya felt a rare urge to laugh.
A genuine, heartfelt laughter came on so strong, he had to force it back down, trapping it in his throat.
"Sorry about that, Lord Vladya." Aekeira cleared her throat, trying to contain her happiness. "It’s quite a beautiful lake."
Aekeira was a lady through and through. Even as a slave, she had carried herself with the grace and dignity of her noble birth. he had noticed it long ago.
But now, every aspect of her, from her attire to her impeccable manners, spoke volumes about her status and character.
Vladya wished he could tell her he didn’t care how unladylike her laughter or excited squeals were. In fact, he'd like to hear more of them. But he enjoyed watching her little discomforts too much to say it.
"It is quite," he replied, simply.
The flush deepened. She was utterly adorable.
She watched the swans gliding gracefully across the lake, creating soft ripples in their wake. She even waved at them.
Vladya watched her , as always. Absorbing her excitement, her every reaction, as though they were his own.
When he had sent her away, it had been out of fear. Fear of nurturing expectations, only for them to crumble into futility. Fear of hoping again.
Yet, despite it all, hope had taken root, hadn’t it?
Was it when his beast rejected every female and craved only for her? Or when losing her had caused him more pain than losing his soul—had hurt worse than actually losing a part of himself? Or was it when his sexlust went dormant, waiting for her return?
Vladya wasn’t sure. It could have been any of those moments, or all of them . But hope had begun inside him.
A glimmer at first, sparking to life with every passing day until it had grown into something real… something alive within him.
I hope Aekeira is my compatible bondmate. I hope her soul aligns with mine.
Then, as always, the mocking laughter followed. What soul? He had no soul to connect with hers.
But unlike before, that smirk didn't shut him down. It didn't make him slam the door on those thoughts as he had always done in the past.
This girl was making him into someone else entirely. Someone, even he, could hardly recognize.
Someone who dared to hope again.
And… he liked it.
***
Emeriel emerged from the garden, carrying a small basket packed with delicate magnolia blooms, borage leaves, and a handful of ripe fruits.
As she neared the fortress, someone tugged at her garment from behind.
She turned, only to find… no one.
Confused, her eyes lowered. And there, barely reaching her knees, stood… a youngling.
An actual Urekai child.
Emeriel had glimpsed them before—rare as they were. The Urekai kept their children close, guarding them like treasures, never letting them stray far.
But this one… this girl child was alone. No adult waited nearby, no watchful parent in sight.
"Fruits," the youngling mumbled, her eyes fixed on the basket.
Emeriel's gaze darted around, wary of onlookers who might misinterpret the interaction. She didn't need a crowd accusing her of harming their child.
"Where are your parents, young one?"
"Sick Mama. No food.” The child held her clothing and tugged again. “I'm hungry, Princess."
Her words tugged at Emeriel’s heart. Kneeling, she met the child's gaze. In human years, the child would be no older than six, but in Urekai years, she was likely even younger.
"Would you like some fruits?" Emeriel asked.
"Yes, please," the girl replied, her voice small, her little smile hopeful.
"What's your name?"
"Dabekka."
"Now, Dabekka, hold out your clothes," Emeriel instructed, helping the child raise her garment to form a makeshift pouch. She then emptied the fruits from her basket into Dabekka's cocooned dress, ensuring the fruits stayed secure.
The youngling’s eyes widened with delight. "Thank you, please!" She darted forward and planted a quick, unexpected kiss on Emeriel’s cheek before sprinting off.
Stunned, Emeriel slowly rose, her hand touching the spot where the kiss lingered like a warm breath. She scanned the area again, and sure enough, several Urekai were watching her from a distance.
Her first instinct was to shout, "I did not harm her!" But she swallowed the impulse.
Instead, she squared her shoulders and continued toward the fortress. Let them think what they like.
"Welcome back, Princess. The herbalist is inside," the soldier stationed at the entrance informed her.
"The herbalist?" Emeriel frowned. She had already visited the herbalist's dwelling, collecting the herbs he was supposed to deliver, before going to the garden.
Her footsteps were soundless as she entered the chambers.
A man stood over the grand king, his dagger raised above the king's heart.