That Prince Is A Girl The Vicious King's Captive Slave Mate by Kiss Leilani

Chapter 109

Captive Slave 111

Chapter 111

EMERIEL

Emeriel forced herself to step back from the grand king's embrage. "Thank you, Your Grace."

As they resumed their walk, a tingling sensation spread through her body, her heart pounding in her chest. Why did the universe seem to delight in her suffering? Why was she constantly subjected to these trials!

No, Your Grace, we have not met before.

Another lie to add to the growing list of deceptions weighing heavily on her conscience. It was necessary for her survival, but it still stung.

She was no longer Prince Emeriel, nor was she simply Slave Emeriel. She was Princess Galilea, a betrothed to a Urekai high lord.

She needed to start acting the part, instead of yearning to be back in those strong arms, safe and protected.

"Why are you so nervous around me, Princess?" King Daemonika questioned, in that rich voice that made her jittery on Le inside.

How to answer that question? Emeriel opted for a half-truth. "Well, you are the grand king," she said, her voice holding a slight tremor. "I have heard many stories about you, and frankly, they are enough to make anyone nervous. I am sure I am not the only one who feels this way?"

For the first time, the corners of his lips twitched upwards, hinting at a smile that never fully bloomed. "You are not," he admitted, "You may relax. Princess. I assure you, I will not harm you."

my kind.

stride faltered, and he stiffened beside

forgive me," Emeriel pleaded, mortified. I have no idea what came

walking, his hands clasped behind his back,

enveloped them, broken only by the sounds of nature and the

smile. This tranquil oasis had always been her

from her earlier blunder. His eyes met hers, and

unnerved her. There was no

had never

asked, her

he said, his

she guided him through the garden. All

step, a constant reminder of his potent

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Chapter 111

unfolding before them like a vibrant tableau of color. Tall, ivy-clad walls enclosed the space, creating an intimate haven that seemed to shut out the outside world. The garden was carefully arranged, with symmetrical beds overflowing

rosemary.

borage flowers, Your Grace. Not only are they beautiful, but they

she telling him this? Perhaps it was because she hoped by engaging him, she could prolong

dared to imagine. In its wickedness, fate had somehow.

examining the star-shaped bloorns with a curious gaze. "Courage from a flower, you say?" he mused. "That is

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