14. AWAKENED BELOVED. ELUSIVE BELOVED.
Chapter fourteen
AWAKENED BELOVED. ELUSIVE BELOVED.
"You’re awake," Emeriel breathed, unable to believe her eyes.
King Daemonikai gave a slow, weak nod. “I am.”
Emeriel shoved down the giddy happiness rising in her. "How do you feel?"
"Tired," King Daemonikai rasped. "Dearest."
Dearest.
He had called her dearest .
"It’s me, Emeriel, not…" Not Evielyn. She almost said it, but didn't.
The barest hint of a smile touched his lips. "I know."
O…kay . That was strange.
She had expected to see confusion, maybe even disappointment at being forced to return to a reality he despised. Instead, he looked serene. Almost… happy?
He was awake, alive, and aware. That’s all that matters.
Emeriel pulled away, hating how she immediately missed the feel of his body as she rose from the bed. "I’m so glad you’re awake. Your people will be overjoyed when they hear the news."
Gathering her scattered clothes, she quickly dressed, avoiding his gaze. Her hands trembled slightly as she fastened her garments.
Then she moved toward the window, tugging open the heavy curtains. Cool air rushed in, along with the soft light of dawn.
The crowd was still there. Humans and Urekai.
"They held a vigil for you," Emeriel said softly, her eyes scanning the kneeling figures. "They were here all night, praying for your safe return."
"Good people," he murmured, hoarsely.
"They are. They genuinely love their king."
"Genuine love," the grand king echoed. "I guess that is what every bond is about."
Emeriel glanced over her shoulder to find his intense gaze on her. Her stomach did a series of flips, butterflies taking flight in there.
Okay, time to go.
"I’ll inform Lord Ottai you’re awake," she kept her voice firmer than she felt. "He’s been with you every step of the way. This will make him so happy."
"And you…are you happy?" King Daemonikai asked in a low tone.
Emeriel faltered. She was.
It was the first genuine happiness she had experienced in a long time, and she was trying all she could not to show it.
He’s alive! He’s back…!
"I heard every word you said to me," the king confessed.
Emeriel reared back, surprised. "All of it?"
"All of it. The stories, the prayers, the words of encouragement." His eyes gazed at her with a rare soft light in them. "You are one of a kind, Emeriel."
She shifted, uncomfortable under such a look. "I’m just… me."
Her eyes darted to the door with longing. But her bracelets lay on the table beside him. She had no choice but to move closer to retrieve them.
Sliding the cool metal bands over her wrists, Emeriel tried to ignore his closeness, the quiet clink of the bracelets filling the silence.
Turning to leave, she took a step away—
His hand shot out, catching hers.
Emeriel gasped. Her first instinct was to pull away, but she stood on frozen feet. His hand was gently holding hers, yet firm, as if he too expected her to resist.
"Thank you for coming back," the grand king said, huskily.
"Are you… are you not angry that I did?" Emeriel stared at their joined hands. "I know you sent me away because you didn’t want me here."
He was looking at her like that again. As if seeing her for the first time.
The sparkle in his eyes grew brighter. Then, quietly, "I didn’t… at that time."
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.
So far, all news was positive.
Except for one glaring absence. Emeriel.
No sight of her. Not a sign… for six long days.
***
As night fell, Daemonikai lay in bed, awaiting his final dose, catching up on the news sheets detailing events he'd missed during his absence. Or at least, he tried to.
He was actually grinding his teeth together in frustration while staring at pamphlets.
She hadn’t come.
And Daemonikai ached to see her again.
He wanted—no, needed —to see her again.
"Once I'm free from this godforsaken bed, I will hunt her down," he grunted.
"Your medicine is here, Your Grace," his steward announced.
"Send them in."
Her scent hit him first.
Every cell in his body, every fiber of his being, awakened to it. His racing mind, his empty heart, even his dying soul.
Slowly, Daemonikai lifted his eyes from the news sheets, and there she was.
Emeriel moved gracefully across the room, carrying a tray loaded with vials and pouches, placing it gently on the table at the far end.
Dressed in a luxurious red gown, her full princess regalia was on display. And Daemonikai was dumbstruck.
She was stunning.
Hell, she was more than stunning… only he couldn't find words adequate to do her justice.
There was something about her now, something that hadn't been there before.
Yes, Daemonikai had seen Galelia, and this female before him looked exactly like her, but there was something… more.
Was it the way she carried herself? A way only someone who has mastered the ‘royalty poise’ could manage.
"Good day, Your Majesty," she said, her voice steady as she focused on the herbs. “Madam Livia was indisposed this evening and has assigned me to deliver your medicines, I hope you don't mind?"
Crossing the room to him, she held out a small cup filled with a dark, pungent liquid.
Hand-feed me, like you did when I was feral.
The words rose in his throat, but Daemonikai trapped them there, extending his hand, accepting the cup.
"You didn’t return," he stated, taking a sip of the bitter concoction.
She looked away, her tone cool. "I was busy."
Daemonikai tried to find something beneath that disinterest, but her face betrayed nothing.
He had seen her— felt her—there with him on the Cold Sea. He'd been so alone, the icy waters dragging him down, his body numb, his hope waning.
But then she had been there, her heat pressing against him. Her voice a beacon in the darkness, talking to him, soothing him.
Her voice had pulled him back when he had nearly given up. Her touch had led him home.
And now that same woman, who had risked her life to save him, stood before him with such staggering indifference.
"How was your day?" he pressed, trying to draw her out.
"Fruitful." Her tone clipped. "Productive."
Daemonikai handed back the empty cup, and she rose to retrieve another vial from the tray. His eyes followed her every move.
"My day was filled with grueling meetings of official matters," he volunteered. "For a bedridden king, my people certainly don't seem to care."
"They are relieved their grand king has returned." Emeriel handed him a platter of ground roots and plants. "Everyone rejoices. Celebrations have been held in every corner of the fortress."
Daemonikai took a bite. "And you?” His eyes locked with hers. ”Do you rejoice?"
Her baby blue eyes met his eyes for a moment.
For the life of him, Daemonikai couldn’t read her. Her face had gone from relaxed to completely blank in the blink of an eye.
It was unnerving to see on a face that was once so expressive.
"I wouldn’t be in this kingdom if I wasn’t," she finally replied, her tone neutral.
Dammit, just go for it. "Emeriel, I want to talk to you about two years ago,” he said earnestly. “I want to apolo—"
She turned away, giving him her back. "There is nothing to talk about. I must take my leave," she said curtly. "Madam Livia will be here soon with the rest of your medicines." A glance over her shoulder. "Good night, Your Grace."
After she left, Daemonikai stared at the door she’d exited, the room’s quietness deafening.
If she were angry, it would have been better. Anger meant she still cared enough to be upset.
But there was no anger. Only conviction, and a gaping distance.
Had he lost her forever?
Daemonikai had been so certain that once he returned, once he was whole again, he could make things right. But now he wasn’t sure.
Had he ruined his chances with her before they’d even begun?
***
Emeriel stood before the mirror, the servants adjusting her garment, chastising herself yet again for the night before.
Why had I paid him a visit? she asked herself for the hundredth time.
There was no logical reason to take the medicines from Madam Livia just to have an excuse to see him.
Two years had passed, and Emeriel had almost forgotten how hard it was to resist that male.
Or perhaps, with their bond dormant, she had naively assumed she would no longer be affected by him.
How wrong I was.
Seeing him awake and hearty, those mesmerizing green eyes on her had sent jitters through her body. It was all she could do to suppress the tremors threatening to overtake her.
Emeriel didn't know whether to laugh or cry.
She had built herself up over the years… Years of carefully constructing walls, brick after brick with care, only for one night—just a few moments in his presence—to make those walls quake and the foundations to tremble.
"Thank you," she said as the servants finished. "You all may leave."
They filed out, leaving her alone with her thoughts.
"There is no bond between you two anymore," Emeriel told her reflection firmly. "You have no business feeling this way. You didn't work this hard, become this strong, just to fall down the same rabbit hole again."
What had he wanted to tell her?
As she walked back to her chambers last night, curiosity had nagged at her. Even now, it disturbed her. The question itched at the edges of her mind.
But Emeriel did what she did best. Suppressed it.
Sometimes, there’s wisdom in ignorance. Peace in not knowing. It’s better not to know.
A knock echoed through the room. "Deliveries, Princess!"
Crossing to the door, she opened it to find a basket of flowers on her doorstep.
A faint smile touched her lips. It was no surprise.
Every morning since the grand king’s awakening, she had received many flowers from the Urekai people. They piled the gifts by her door like some sort of peace offering.
Their attitude had changed so much since her return. Some days, Emeriel still had a hard time fully believing it.
But their gestures stirred a warm joy deep inside her. A hope that was… hesitant. Wary.
In some way, a defensive part of her was waiting for the other shoe to drop. For the hate and chaos.
Today's offering was a bouquet of vibrant red lilies. Lifting the basket, Emeriel brought it to her nose.
The scent washed over her, soothing her frayed nerves like rain on a sunny day, and just like that, her tension drained away.
Nothing like the smell of fresh flowers to start her day.
Another knock startled her. "Deliveries, Your Highness."
Emeriel lowered the lilies. The servant held an even larger, more extravagant basket overflowing with flowers.
The servant gave a respectful bow. "From His Majesty, the king."