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

Chapter 451: Taking her hand, his touch both familiar and foreign, he pressed his lips against her knuckles.

"My elusive beloved," he said, his voice a warm caress. "Please, will you walk with me?"

No.

It was right there, at the tip of Emeriel's tongue. All she had to do was open her mouth and breathe the word out. But her lips refused to move, the protest stuck somewhere between her heart and her throat.

Why was it so hard?

She did not want to walk with him. Every part of her that had toiled, survived, and endured screamed against it.

Yet, she took a step forward, not away from him, but towards him. The people erupted in a chorus of approval, some clapping their hands.

In what alternate universe had she fallen into? The grand king calling her "Beloved," and the Urekai cheering them?

Emeriel had no idea what was real and what wasn't anymore.

"Thank you, beloved," King Daemonikai said, once again pressing a kiss to her hand.

"Please don't call me that," Emeriel snapped.

The endearment carried the sweetness of what could have been and the bitterness of what was lost. And it made her heart lurch.

His smile dimmed, and sadness flashed in his eyes. It was brief, gone as quickly as it came.

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"Forgive me, beloved," he said smoothly. "I will take that into account."

She glared.

A broad grin lit up his face.

Emeriel almost swallowed her tongue at the sight. Never had she seen him smile that way.

Hell, she had never seen him genuinely smile, period.

It tugged at her insides, and she stared dumbfounded as he led her to his waiting steed.

Finally, she caught herself.

"There is no extra horse," she noted, her voice dry.

"You will ride with me," he said, climbing into the saddle and extending his hand towards her. "Worry not, beloved. I will not let you fall."

No, it wasn't that kind of fall she was afraid of.

Emeriel absolutely hated the way "beloved" sounded coming from his lips. She hated the thrill it sent through her, the way it awakened parts of her she had fought to bury.

She hated how much she wanted to hear more of it.

With a reluctant sigh, she placed her hand in his strong, calloused one, and he effortlessly lifted her onto the horse, positioning her close behind him. He gave a subtle command, and they set off at a leisurely pace.

The closeness was suffocating.

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