Chapter 307
Grand King Daemonikai
Days lingered long after Emeriel was gone. Her presence—her gestures—warmed him immeasurably. Waking to find everything prepared to help him start his day was incredibly kind and thoughtful. She was everything.
Daemonikai had known love before. He had family, loved ones, and even the weight of centuries upon his shoulders. Yet, somehow, with her, he felt new again. As if rediscovering something long buried beneath the weight of time. He had never felt so wholly loved and cared for. She made him feel alive again.
Times like these, when his heart raced at the mere thought of her, he felt young again. Not the ancient Grand King who had walked the world for five thousand two hundred years, but a youth experiencing the first flush of love. He could hardly imagine what it would be like when their bond was fully restored. And it would be restored. Daemonikai refused to believe otherwise.
Straightening his cuffs, he heard approaching footsteps and glanced up, expecting Emeriel. Instead, Vladya entered, clad in his ceremonial robes.
“I’m going with you to the Celestial Offering,” Vladya announced.
Daemonikai arched a brow. “Are you going for the Offering, or do you simply wish to see the Oracle?”
“Does it matter?” Vladya shrugged. “Your clan is traveling to the mountains, and I wish to pray as well. We go together.”
Daemonikai crossed his arms. “The Oracle specifically told you, through the messenger bird she sent, to wait for a sign.”
Vladya had completed the first step of the ritual three days ago. The Oracle had been clear; he was to wait for a sign determining whether he could proceed with the second rite. But if none came, he was to visit her next week.
“I’m tired of waiting,” Vladya grumbled. “At this point, I cannot tell if I have already received the sign or not. When one wants something so badly, everything looks like a sign.”
Daemonikai sighed. “You know our return is tomorrow, don’t you? That means we’ll be leaving the kingdom in Ottai’s hands.”
“His capable hands. It wouldn’t be the first time.”
“True,” Daemonikai conceded. “Fine. Get your ride ready. We have a long journey ahead of us.”
Vladya gave a curt nod before turning and striding from the room.
Princess Emeriel
“Why do you keep looking behind you, as if you expect Lord Vladya to appear out of thin air?” Emeriel’s lips curled into a playful smile as she watched Ackeira glance over her shoulder for what felt like the hundredth time.
Ackeira caught herself, blushing.
“It’s not like that…” she muttered, avoiding her sister’s gaze.
Emeriel pursed her lips. “At least have the decency to admit you miss him. Honestly, you’re pathetic—it hasn’t even been four hours since they left.”
“As if you don’t miss the Grand King,” she retorted, shooting her a glare.
“I do,” Emeriel’s chin lifted proudly. “If I had the capacity, I might have tied him to the bed so he’d never have to leave this morning.”
Her sister giggled. “You’re shameless, Em.”
“I know,” she laughed.
But afterward, Ackeira fell silent again, her gaze distant as they continued their walk to the market to shop for curtains. Emeriel tried to engage her in conversation, but the more she spoke, the more she realized how distracted Ackeira seemed. In fact, now that Emeriel thought about it, her sister had been unusually quiet and pale since they’d set out.
Frowning, Emeriel nudged her. “Are you alright?”
Ackeira stopped walking, placing a hand on her forehead. “I’m fine.”
“Are you sure? If you’re not feeling well, we can go another time,” Emeriel insisted, her worry growing.
Ackeira hesitated before sighing. “It’s just… I think I have a fever. I haven’t been feeling well since this morning.”
Emeriel was at her side instantly, pressing the back of her hand to Ackeira’s forehead. “Why didn’t you say something?!”
“It’s not a big deal,” Ackeira protested weakly. “I can ask Madam Livia for some herbs when we get back.”
“No way,” Emeriel took her hand. “We’re going back now.”
Striding quickly and purposefully, she guided Ackeira back toward Ravenshadow. By the time they reached the gates, Ackeira’s breathing had grown uneven, and sweat glistened on her forehead, matting her hair to her skin.
Emeriel helped her into her chambers, laying her gently on the bed and tucking the sheets around her.
“I’ll get Madam Livia,” she said hurriedly.
Ackeira didn’t respond, her eyes fluttering shut as she swallowed hard.
Emeriel fought to keep the fear away, but it was hard. Gathering the heavy fabric of her gown, she ran from the room, searching the halls for the head maid, stopping maids and slaves along the way, asking if they had seen Madam Livia. Finally, one of them pointed her toward the royal kitchen.
Emeriel rushed in, breathless, and found the older woman bent over a table, rummaging through bundles of dried herbs.
“Madam Livia! Madam Livia!” she called, breathlessly.
At the urgency in her voice, the head maid straightened at once, alert. “Is something the matter, Princess?”
“You have to come. My sister… I don’t know what’s wrong,” Emeriel’s words tumbled out in a rush.
When they reached Ackeira’s chambers and pushed the door open, Emeriel stopped short, her heart lurching. The bed was empty.
“Ackeira?!” Panic sharpened her voice as her eyes darted wildly around the room. “Ackeira—”
A pained moan echoed from across the room.
Rushing toward the sound, Emeriel found Ackeira crumpled on the ground, curled tightly into herself, her body wracked with tremors. “I’m here now, I’m right here.”
Scratching her arm to alleviate a prickling itch, Emeriel knelt beside her, grasping her sister’s clammy hand. “I brought Madam Livia—Ackeira, you’re burning up! What’s happening?”
Ackeira’s eyes fluttered open—Emeriel stopped breathing. A furious, bloodshot red stained the center of Ackeira’s iris. Full heat.
“I don’t feel… good at all,” Ackeira rasped, sweat pouring off her, soaking through her clothes. “I feel like… I’m burning up… from the inside.”
“We have to get Grand Lord Vladya right now!” Emeriel shouted, turning to Madam Livia, unable to hide the terror in her own eyes. “Ackeira is going into full heat!”