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

Chapter 613: Pulling his fangs from her neck, Vladya swiped the wound closed. Then, exhaustion hit him all at once, more intense than before.

"Tired," he confessed.

"Me too."

She uncurved herself from his lap, standing on wobbly legs and adjusting her nightdress in a sluggish, clumsy way. "You need sleep. Lie down."

Vladya sank back onto the bed with a heavy sigh, but not before grabbing her wrist and pulling her down with him.

"Sleep beside me."

She went willingly, lying beside him with her head resting on his chest.

Aekeira was exhausted. Her mind was blissfully quiet for the first time in days, and she had a soft, contented smile.

Lord Vladya's arm was around her protectively, his breathing evened out in sleep. He looked so peaceful now, his earlier tension and pain gone.

She watched him with lazy eyes, already feeling the effects of feeding him blood. Tracing the strong line of his jaw, the scar that marred his cheek, the faint frown lines that hadn't yet faded.

This powerful male who was hers had been through so much, and Aekeira was fulfilled knowing she had been able to soothe him tonight.

The stress, the anxiety, the panic of the past few weeks melted away as her eyelids grew heavy. Relaxing fully, she closed her eyes, and with his closeness surrounding her, she fell asleep.

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PRINCESS EMERIEL

Emeriel stood before the tall mirror, staring at her reflection as Amie fastened the buttons down the back of her gown. The fabric felt soft against her skin, designed in a simple yet elegant style that prioritized comfort over extravagance.

Behind her, the faint clinking of glass jars echoed as Madam Livia brewed her final portion for the morning.

It had been four days since she fully woke up. Most of Emeriel's bruises had faded, her face looked less pale, and the dark shadows under her eyes were gradually disappearing. Though her left arm still ached from time to time, the swelling had gone down, and she could now use it without much trouble. She flexed her fingers absently, with caution.

"You look so beautiful, my princess," Amie let out a wistful sigh, stepping back to admire her work.

"Thank you, Amie." Beautiful wasn't the word she'd use, but at least she looked better than she had in recent weeks. That was enough for now.

"Here," Madam Livia came to her with a steaming wooden cup. "Drink this while it's still hot, Princess."

Emeriel took the cup, its bitter scent wafting up as she brought it to her lips. She drank it quickly, grimacing as the sharp taste hit her tongue and burned down her throat.

"Sorry about the taste," the older woman said with a grimace of her own. "But it's for your own good. You've made remarkable progress, and I'm glad to see you doing better."

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