Chapter 201: Princess Aekeira

When Aekeira entered the grand hall and didn't see Lord Vladya, a sharp pang of disappointment—quickly replaced by relief—struck her. At least, she didn't need to face him yet. She quickly composed herself, walking further into the room.

Yaz, and the grand king's head soldier—she couldn't recall his name—straightened at her arrival, stiff and formal. Lord Ottai, who had been gazing out the window, turned to greet her. Those familiar, beautifully crafted black robes filled her with nostalgia; she barely managed to maintain her composure, remembering them on a certain someone.

“Princess Aekeira,” Lord Ottai inclined his head with an unfamiliar respect.

It was unsettling, yet strangely comforting, to see three of them bow.

“Grand Lord Ottai,” she curtsied. “To what do I owe this visit?”

“It’s a matter of great importance. Is your sister on her way?”

“She will not be joining us.”

Lord Ottai’s face fell, though he didn't seem surprised. “Thank you for seeing us. I know this must have been difficult for you.”

Aekeira could no longer suppress the question that had haunted her for years. “How is… is he alright?” She had to ask, she had to know.

“No,” the grand lord shook his head. “He is not.”

Her breath hitched, and she stumbled back. Blinking furiously to fight back tears, Aekeira choked out, “Is he… feral?”

The ensuing silence was unbearable. The look of misery exchanged between the two head soldiers shattered Aekeira’s composure. Her hand flew to her mouth, stifling a sob. Tears streamed down her face, blurring her vision. “Oh my heavens…” The words were a ragged cry from the depths of her soul.

“May I, Your Majesty?” Yaz asked.

“Go ahead, Yaz.”

Yaz stepped forward cautiously. “My master is not feral yet. Not completely.”

“What does ‘not completely’ mean?” Aekeira snapped desperately. “He is either feral or he’s not.”

“It means he’s turning, Your Highness. His hand is that of the beast’s. There’s no turning back,” Yaz explained carefully. “I staked out his cave for days, and managed to catch a glimpse of him when he came out for food. I’m not sure if it’s just his hand or if there are other… changes.”

Aekeira’s legs wobbled with staggering relief.

“Usually, the change occurs all at once,” Yaz continued. “One takes their beast form and cannot revert. But there are rare cases where the transformation is gradual, losing body parts until the change is complete.”

“So… he is still… male?” Aekeira couldn’t hide the hope in her voice.

“Not exactly,” Lord Ottai answered.

Aekeira stared at him, her heart sinking.

“When one reaches the turning point, there is nothing male left. His mind will be completely gone; he wouldn’t recognize anyone or anything.” The grand lord paused. “Vladya entered that cave one morning and hasn’t emerged in half a year.”

Aekeira deflated. Cold sweat broke out on her skin.

Half a year? This is bad. Very bad.

“And the grand king?” she managed to ask.

“May I, Your Highness?” the other head soldier, Wegai, spoke.

“Go ahead, Wegai.”

Wegai stepped forward. “My master’s soul is dying.”

Aekeira blinked. “Come again.”

“Over the years after the eclipse moon night, many who lost their bondmates were so aggrieved they either turned feral…or their soul began to die,” Wegai said gravely. “A bond feeds the soul, Your Highness. We had no idea how precarious his condition was until Princess Emeriel was removed from his life.”

“You mean Em’s love sustained his soul, and when she was taken away, it began to wither?”

“His love, young princess,” Lord Ottai gently corrected.

Aekeira flinched. That longing, fierce as a storm at sea, squeezed her heart, and she cried out in anguish.

“Are you alright, young princess?” Lord Ottai’s concern was evident as he approached her.

“I’m fine, please don’t call me that,” she choked out, one hand pressed against her aching heart, the other raised in a plea for distance. “Please… don’t.”

“What?” Lord Ottai was confused. “The young princess?”

Memories flooded her—all the times her grand lord had called her that.

“No one has the right to be this beautiful, young princess.”

“Kiss me, young princess.”

Too vivid, too painful. I miss him so much, it feels like a part of me was ripped away and given to him.

“Yes, please!” she panted, squeezing her eyes shut. “P-please.”

“Alright. I apologize, Princess Aekeira.”

Desperate to distract herself from the aching void in her heart, Aekeira forced herself to focus on the conversation.

“Your theory doesn’t make sense, Lord Ottai,” she said, her voice strained. “The grand king didn’t love my sister. We all know that. He was incapable of it.”

“He cared for her,” Lord Ottai stated. “He might not have been capable of loving, but he cared for her. When everything else dear to him was taken, she was the only thing he came close to caring about, and that sustained him.”

He paused, his gaze heavy with sorrow. “But when she was removed, the gaping wound that never healed took over. Like Vladya with his feral madness, the grand king hid this from us. But unlike Vladya, he actually fought it from the beginning. But now, he can no longer.”

Aekeira swallowed, her throat dry. “What happens when one can no longer fight it? What happened to the others who lost their souls?”

Lord Ottai looked away. “They died. Roughly a month after the symptoms are complete, they either go feral or kill themselves. Every last one of them.”

“But Lord Vladya doesn’t have a soul.”

“His was different. Vladya’s soul isn’t dead; it was lost to dark magic. It’s alive in the spirit realm, unattainable, but alive.”

Hope ignited in her eyes. “So it’s not dead? That means… there’s a chance he can get it back?”