That Prince Is A Girl: The Vicious King’s Slave Mate Novel

Chapter 193: "Once we lose our smiles, we have nothing else," Em used to say.

Once so unflappable, her poor sister had become withdrawn and easily frightened. Em had lost her smile, and now she cried almost every day. Even tonight.

Consumed with the pain of the beast's death on the morrow, she had cried herself to sleep.

"Keira?" Em stirred, her voice groggy, eyes puffy. "Are you…" "No, I'm not," Aekeira smiled, tucking a strand of hair back. "Go back to sleep, Em."

Em's breathing steadied again, her features relaxing.

"Sleep, Em. If they kill the beast tomorrow, I will be here for you. We will get through the pain together. You have been strong for so long. From now on, I will be strong for both of us." Aekeira kissed her forehead, a tear rolling down her cheek.

EMERIEL

A raw, suffocating grief twisted in Emeriel's gut as he gazed down upon the crowd of Urekai, from his shadowed perch on the balcony of the southern wing. His heart heavy with sorrow.

The night enveloped the surroundings in darkness, yet the multitude of fire torches held by each Urekai illuminated the scene as if it were daylight. They assembled at the tournament arena, filling every seat, leaving no corner unoccupied. Some were even standing. Soldiers and Urekai maids were granted permission to attend, while humans were strictly forbidden.

"Any human found near the arena shall be burned alive," Lord Zaiper had stated earlier that morning.

Thus, everyone was confined to their quarters. However, Emeriel had slipped away-not out of a desire for death, but because he simply could not bear to remain within the suffocating walls of his chamber. He had tried to stay put, he truly had.

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Yet this pain… it was a living thing, gnawing at him from within. His heart burned, each beat a searing agony.

They will kill him tonight.

He squeezed his eyes shut against the image, swallowing a sob. The weight in his chest threatened to suffocate him.

"Em…?" a soft, gentle voice called.

Emeriel turned, tears streaming down his face as he met Aekeira's gaze. A helpless plea reflected in his eyes.

"Oh, Em, don't do this to yourself," Aekeira whispered, her voice filled with worry.

His sister looked exhausted. She had been frantic with worry since yesterday, stressed for him.

Yesterday, Emeriel had felt intoxicated in a way he never had before. He had floated in a kind of soothing euphoria he'd never known, all because his Beloved had drunk from him. It was a strange lightness. Blissful. Relaxing.

He had woken afterward, in the forbidden chamber, the beast's arm draped protectively over him.

And now, they would execute him.

"Don't, don't," Aekeira pleaded, but it was too late.

Sobs ripped from Emeriel's throat, agonizing cries that echoed his internal torment. Tears streamed down his face, hot and relentless.

Aekeira whispered helplessly, pulling him into a tight embrace.

"It hurts," he gasped, his body shaking as he clung to Aekeira, his voice breaking. "Like someone is sawing at my limb."

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