Page 16 of THE SOULBOND AND HER BELOVED (Beasts Of Wrath And Madness #4)

Chapter sixteen

REKINDLING OLD FLAMES… AND THE FLICKER OF A NEW ONE.

The following month was a whirlwind of highs and lows.

On one hand, the kingdom basked in newfound joy. The news of not one, but two grand rulers finding their destined mates had spread like wildfire.

Whispers of Grand Lord Vladya’s human princess mistress—as many had once called her—going into heat and emerging as his Soulbond reached even the farthest outskirts of Urai, seeping into the smaller villages.

And with it, something changed.

The two grand rulers, whose minds had long been rumored to be failing, had begun to show remarkable improvement.

According to murmurs within the city, their grand king appeared visibly happier than he had been in centuries. He attended court more frequently, fully engaged in matters of the realm, and presided over official duties and festivities with a vitality unseen in years. The people had never seen their Grand King more alive.

So, they began to wonder... Were the rumors of his return to madness false after all?

And then there was Grand Lord Vladya.

Unlike the First Ruler, the Third Ruler had confirmed his own rumors himself.

One fateful day, he gathered the people before the dais, standing tall, his voice clear as he proudly declared his mind was healing. That he was drinking more from his Soulbond , growing closer to her intimately, and with each passing day, he felt the difference. His mind was better. Clearer.

Once, the people of Urai had hoped their grand rulers would one day fully return to them, and everything would be as it used to, before the tragedy. But that hope always felt distant, like an unreachable star.

But now, for the first time, that hope felt within grasp. They believed .

And with that belief came the first steps toward stability. For their monarchy. For their kingdom. For the future of Urai itself.

***

"You look so beautiful, Princess Aekeira," Amie gushed as they stepped out of the Royal Residence. "It is nice to see you glowing."

Considering how sick she had been over the past few days, Aekeira took the compliment in good faith. "Thank you so much, Amie. Have you seen my sister?"

"She left early. Said she needed to visit an old friend."

Aekeira smiled. So, she finally made the time to visit High Lord Herodis?

Emeriel had barely left her side for days, fussing over her like a mother hen just because she had fallen a little unwell. Stubborn as ever, her sister had insisted on staying, refusing to leave—even for a moment. But now that she was showing signs of recovery, her sister had finally started to ease up.

Some days, it was hard for Aekeira to remember she was the elder one.

Today, she was heading to the market. A small outing with a special purpose.

She planned to embroider a rope belt for Lord Vladya as a gift, which was why she had waited until he left for the hills before dressing up to go fabric sourcing.

"Lord Vladya left really early this morning too," Amie said casually. "He is rarely around the fortress anymore."

Aekeira only nodded. She was well aware.

Lord Vladya had been so preoccupied the past week that, despite her moving into the bedchamber next to his in the Royal Residence, she barely saw him. But it was for the best.

"It pertains to getting his soul back," Aekeira confided. Over the years, she had come to see Amie as a true friend. Despite Aekeira’s status change, that part of their relationship had not. "He is working closely with the Oracle to find a solution."

"Really?" Amie gasped, her eyes going wide as she hurried ahead, spinning around to face Aekeira. "Oh, that is wonderful news! You must be so excited, my princess!"

“I am,” Aekeira admitted with a smile. “So far, only two of the rituals have succeeded, but we are hopeful."

Amie clapped her hands excitedly, nearly bouncing where she stood. "How many rituals are there?"

"Four." Her smile dimmed just slightly. "The third one keeps failing."

The second ritual had gone through after two failed attempts, but the third had been performed seven times.

Still, Aekeira refused to dwell on disappointment. They had been fortunate enough to have two rituals succeed, and she was determined to remain optimistic.

"Oh, I have faith it will go through!" Amie declared, maintaining the conversation while still making sure she faced Aekeira. "You two have been through so much. You have come so far—just like the Grand King and Prince Emeriel!"

Aekeira chuckled. Only Amie still made the "prince, princess" mistake when referring to her sister.

For a twenty-two-year-old who had endured terrible hardships, Amie was a ray of sunshine that never faded, even at dusk. Cute as a button.

"So, after his soul is restored, you two can finally bond and live happily ever after?" Amie bounced on her feet.

Aekeira could not help it—she laughed, shaking her head. "I hope so."

Her being a Soulbond had changed things. They no longer needed to endure the grueling, seven-day bonding ritual for soul compatibility, but there was still the mating ritual.

Usually performed on the last day of the bonding ritual, it was the most important of all. And for it to succeed, Lord Vladya still needed his soul.

Aekeira could not wait for that day to come.

"Unlike the bonding ritual, if the mating ritual fails, it can always be redone, right?" Amie nearly stumbled but quickly caught herself.

“Careful,” Aekeira said with a soft chuckle, nodding. “And once again, you are correct.”

"But what could cause a mating ritual to fail? Bonding rituals only fail when the souls do not align, but what about when the souls are already naturally bound by the gods?"

"Well." Aekeira gave it a thought. "I guess if the rites are recited incorrectly, or the female’s heat is not at its peak, or, in our case, if Lord Vladya’s soul is still missing, it might fail."

As they neared the main gates, passing by the lush gardens, the fragrance of roses hit her. Aekeira’s stomach churned unpleasantly and she quickened her pace.

Amie glanced at her with concern. "Does the smell of flowers still affect you badly?"

"Yes, but I believe it will pass." Aekeira waved it off. "Are you sure you know the best part of the market to get these fabrics?"

"Of course!" Amie’s face lit up with pride. "Some months ago, I was assigned to the head seamstress, and I used to go fabric sourcing with her. You are in the right hands, Princess."

***

Standing before Lord Herod’s manor, Emeriel shot her guards a stern look when they moved to follow her inside.

Heavens, they were like flies on a corpse. Hovering, watching her every move, never giving her so much as a breath of space.

Not that she blamed them. Their grand king had given strict orders regarding her safety. But still…

"I need space." Her tone gave no room for argument. "Go join the other soldiers on the training grounds or something, but none of you are stepping into this home with me."

The guards exchanged uneasy glances.

She sighed. "Look around you, soldiers. We are in a highly fortified territory, inside the estate of a former High Lord of Urai, behind fortified gates, with soldiers patrolling everywhere. What could possibly go wrong?"

One of them, looking particularly uncomfortable, cleared his throat. "With all due respect, Your Majesty, it is just that..." He shifted awkwardly. "The grand king will skin us alive if anything happens to you. Perhaps it is best not to leave it up to chance?"

"What is best is that I get to spend time with my friend without bodyguards hovering over me like a noble youngling in a playground." Her frustration bled through her tone. "Give me some space."

They relented, stepping back to join the other soldiers.

“Oh, thank the gods,” she muttered under her breath.

With a relieved sigh, she turned back to the door, excitement bubbling inside her, and knocked.

The door swung open.

She beamed. “Look who it is—” But her smile dimmed.

The male standing before her was not Lord Herod.

At first glance, he bore a striking resemblance. Same features, same strong, masculine build. But the longer she stared, the clearer the differences became.

Perhaps a brother?

The male smiled wide, shaking his head in astonishment. "I had no idea he knew someone this beautiful." His eyes roved over her with open admiration before reaching for her hand and bringing it to his lips with a courtly grace.

“You, my lady, look absolutely mesmerizing,” he murmured. “Who is it that graces our door on this blessed morning?”

Her lips curled slightly. "I am Princess Emeriel, and I am looking for Lord Herod."

His grip slackened, dropping her hand fast as if it had grown spikes. "Our grand king’s female? That princess?"

Emeriel laughed softly. "It is I."

Just then, a familiar laughter rang from within the house. “Emeriel...!”

Her heart soared as she spotted Lord Herod. She barely registered the wide grin on his face before she hurried past the stranger, closing the short distance and throwing herself into his arms.

His laughter was deeply rich as he lifted her effortlessly, twirling her once before setting her down.

Tears burned behind Emeriel's eyes from pure joy, and she bent into a graceful curtsy, despite the dizziness. "My lord, it is a pleasure to be in your presence again."

"You look absolutely stunning!"

“And you do not look so bad yourself.” She grinned.

And he truly did not. It was as if the past two years had never touched him.

"Oh, you flatter me, Little One. I—"

"Hold on a moment." His look-alike stepped between them, scrutinizing her in a manner that made Emeriel wonder if she had sprouted horns.

Then, he turned to Lord Herod, expression flat. "You really are going to get yourself killed, Father."

Emeriel blinked. "Wait. Father?"

Lord Herod’s laughter rumbled once more, warm and amused. "Meet my son, Dale."

Turning to the younger male, Lord Herod gestured toward her. "Dale, meet Princess Emeriel—my dear friend."

His son’s eyes lingered on her for a moment before he straightened and bent into a formal, full-bellied bow. "Your Majesty."

Emeriel shifted, awkward. "You need not bow that much."

Lord Herod smacked the back of Dale’s head. "Quit it. You are making my friend uncomfortable."

"No, it is alright," Emeriel assured them with a small smile. “It is just... wow .” Her head shook in disbelief. “I remember you telling me you had a son, but I never expected...”

Her gaze flickered between them before she huffed. “Though I wonder what I was thinking. In a species where people never truly age, sons are bound to look more like their father’s brother.”

Lord Herod roared with laughter.

Dale, however, looked less than impressed.

"I refuse to believe I look identical to the old male," he muttered. "I'm not even a day over three hundred, while he—with all his loneliness, self-isolation, and brooding—looks seven thousand , to say the least."

Now it was Emeriel's turn to burst into laughter.

Lord Herod shook his head in exasperation. "Firstly, you are three hundred and seventy-seven years old. And secondly, I do not look seven thousand."

Emeriel felt like she had to help. “He really does not.”

“You hear that?” Lord Herod said smugly, shooting his son a pointed look.

Dale scoffed and retorted. Only for Herod to fire back, sparking a heated exchange between father and son.

Emeriel watched them, emotions stirring in her chest. They bickered like this so easily. So naturally.

She was glad to know Dale had returned home, that he was keeping Herod company. But… self-isolation?

Her smile weakened. It had to be because of his lost position.

Her eyes drifted over the familiar surroundings, the manor that had barely changed. Blinking rapidly, she tried to fight off the sting of tears burning behind her eyes.

Two years ago, she had roamed every inch of this home, clothed in male slave garb, hiding within its walls, spending time with the one friend she had found in a sea of enemies.

This male had made slavery bearable. Had given her an escape. Had fed her, protected her, and cared for her during her brutal, full heat. Lord Herod had saved her life in so many ways.

It feels nice to stand here again.

***

"This is the finest wool in the market. Only the best for nobles and the privileged." The market vendor ran her fingers along the soft material. "Not too scratchy, and perfect for winter cloaks."

"I like this one," Amie said.

Aekeira pursed her lips, studying the fabric. “What other materials do you have?”

The vendor nodded and disappeared into her shop to fetch more samples.

As they waited, a passing Urekai female caught sight of Aekeira—and stopped, looking excited as she took a hesitant step closer.

Aekeira, uncertain what to do, inclined her head first, offering a hesitant greeting.

The female’s eyes shone as she bent into a bow. "May your days be blessed, Human Princess."

"Oh..." Aekeira fidgeted at such direct reverence. "Th-Thank you."

“You have no idea what you have done for my people, do you?” The female reached out to take Aekeira’s hands in hers, patting them gently. “I am a southern Urekai.”

Ah. Lord Vladya’s clan.

Moments like this had become her new normal, but they still unsettled her.

In the past, Urekai acknowledged her reluctantly at best. Some referred to her only as the Third Ruler’s human mistress, while others blatantly ignored her altogether.

Now, they looked at her differently. Some even approached her warmly— like this female .

"So many of us had lost hope." The female’s eyes glistened. "We thought his lineage was doomed to end forever. It is one thing to know there is no heir to the southern throne, but after all those failed bondings, after watching his attempts end badly again and again —it was another thing entirely to realize he might never have a bondmate.”

She swallowed hard, sniffling as she wiped her eyes. "And then, the feral symptoms appeared. We all lost hope. Who would have thought we would be here today...?”

Now, Aekeira was tearing up. Her emotions were everywhere lately.

Sniffling, she squeezed the female’s hand. "I am the blessed one. I am lucky to have him."

The Urekai female beamed, nodding fervently. "Perhaps the gods have finally woken... and at last, they are smiling upon our people."

With another graceful bow, she turned and disappeared into the crowd.

Aekeira swiped at her eyes, clearing the moisture before it fully fell. She barely had time to collect herself before the market vendor reappeared, holding up a luxurious roll of silk.

"What about this fabric? Imported from the East. The finest quality."

Aekeira stepped forward to touch it, and the world tilted .

A violent dizziness crashed over her, so strong it sent her swaying. She barely registered Amie’s panicked gasp before her legs buckled.

"My Princess!" Amie caught her before she could hit the ground.

Aekeira leaned into her support, gripping her head to force the world to stop spinning.

"I knew we should have waited before coming to the market!" Amie scolded, panic thick in her voice as she steadied her. "You are not fully recovered yet! Oh, Goddess, Princess Emeriel is going to kill me!"

Aekeira squeezed her eyes shut, focusing on her breathing. "I am fine. It is just a dizzy spell—nothing I have not been having for a while now. I will be alright."

Amie was not convinced. "You are shaking."

Aekeira gritted her teeth, gripping her arm tighter. "Please, do not tell Em. If she finds out, she will never let me out of the fortress again."

Amie sighed, clearly torn. "Fine," she relented. "But only if you promise to tell me immediately if this happens again. If you fall to the ground, Grand Lord Vladya will have my head!"

Aekeira nodded weakly. She had refused to see a healer, but now she was starting to bother her.

Why am I so sick?