That Prince is a Girl the Vicious King's Captive Slave Mate - Chapter 415

Chapter 415:

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But he hadn’t counted on the suffering. The constant, grueling pain that came with glancing around and never seeing her.

He hadn’t expected the endless searching. Always looking for her in a room she no longer occupied.

As the days bled into weeks and months, it felt as if his own heart had been ripped out and handed back to him—broken, mangled, and bleeding.

Coupled with the madness creeping in, Vladya was so lost.

He had not counted on missing her as much as he did.

He hadn’t counted on so many things.

His gaze continued to rake over her. This wasn’t the slave he had known. This was the princess he hadn’t.

Now, she looked every bit the part. From her elegantly styled hair and simple yet exquisite jewelry, to the fine fabric of her gown.

She was breathtakingly beautiful.

And, she was real.

Vladya hated that part of him whispering that this might be just another one of his numerous illusions and dreams. Those torturous ones he’d had wishing for her return.

“Lord Vladya?”

Yes, this is real.

She sounded far better than she had in any of his countless, countless illusions.

“Do you wish…” he cleared his throat, the sound rusty from disuse, “Do you wish to go further, to my dwelling?”

Her eyes, still wet with unshed tears, searched his face. Vladya wondered what she saw. Did she see a half-mad male?

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A washed-up grand lord hiding away in a cave? Or the one who broke her heart? Probably all three.

“Okay,” she whispered.

He led her deeper into the cave, to the heart of his self-imposed exile. Here, time had no meaning. The outside world felt distant, exactly as Vladya had intended.

“Sit here,” he gestured to a small cushion. “Do you want tea?”

Aekeira looked around the space, clearly surprised as she scanned the room. “This is not what I expected.”

“I know,” a small smile touched his lips. She had expected to see an empty, perhaps grim place, littered with skulls and dried blood from his victims, not this warm, cozy home. “As one waits for the inevitable, let’s just say, one has a lot of time on their hands. I go scavenging sometimes. Something to do while… waiting.”

“To go mad,” she finished for him, quietly.

Vladya turned toward the rickety table and busied himself with brewing the tea. “Madness is not something to fear. It can be fought, the symptoms slowed down, but in the end, it cannot be avoided.”

His gaze drifted to his hand—the one that had been a paw for months now, unchanged.

“In human terms, it’s more like managing an incurable disease for as long as possible before it claims you.” He handed Aekeira the steaming cup of tea.

Aekeira brought it to her lips for a sip.

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