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

Chapter 160: Emeriel held perfectly still, quelling the instinctive fear that rose within him. He knew, deep in his soul, the beast wouldn't harm him.

Its nostrils flared, drinking in his scent. Followed by a low, rumbling purr of contentment. Gradually, its eyelids drooped shut in relaxed bliss.

A flutter of warmth bloomed in Emeriel's chest, butterflies dancing in his belly. He couldn't help but smile. "Hello," he murmured, his voice barely a whisper.

The beast rumbled softly in response, a massive paw lifting to gently graze Emeriel's cheek. The touch was featherlight, as if the creature understood that pressing any harder would break the skin. "I never properly thanked you, did I?" Emeriel's voice was soft, laced with a touch of wonder. "I'm sorry for that, Your Majesty. Thank you for saving me from the court. I'd likely be dead if not for you. Your court is… formidable. All those grand lords, each a force to be reckoned with."

A low groan rumbled from the beast, its eyes slowly opening and closing. It seemed to savor the sound of Emeriel's voice, the melodic cadence soothing its restless spirit.

"I've lived my whole life as a boy," Emeriel continued, words a quiet confession. "But the longing to be a girl… it burns inside me. It's impossible, though. Never was, never will be. I don't even know if I'd know how to be one anymore." He sighed, a wistful sound.

Propping his head on his hand, he continued, "It started with my parents, trying to protect me in a way they couldn't protect my older sister. It was easier to stay safe."

In the human kingdom, as a prince, some lords looked at me strangely, but none dared act on it. But here…" His voice trailed off, lost in the depths of the beast's golden gaze.

"It's harder here. I suppose, in a way, serving you has made it easier. Slave masters are careful not to cross me, for fear of Lord Vladya's wrath. And after what happened in court… they do not look at me the same way anymore."

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Exhaustion crept over Emeriel, and he shifted closer, tucking himself into the crook of the beast's arm. Massive limbs curled around him, drawing him close, as the beast rumbled with pleasure.

The tension seeped from his body, and sleep claimed him.

AMIE

Hours ago, when Amie arrived for her shift, a wave of relief washed over her at the sight of Slave Master Gaine alone behind the tavern bar, Master Boris notably absent. The feeling lingered, a comforting warmth against the chill of the night as she finished her work and stepped out into the darkness.

Eager to return to the fortress, she took the shorter route through the barn. But her steps faltered as a bloodcurdling scream pierced the silence. More screams, more pleas. The slave, whoever it was, was begging a master for mercy. She recognized the masculine voice.

Master Boris.

Hell, hell, hell. Amie's pace quickened, panic constricting her throat. She'd managed to avoid him all week-why had she chosen the shortcut tonight?

A brutal yank on her hair sent a jolt of pain through her scalp. "Ah, there you are, my little sneak," Boris's voice rasped in her ear, hot with malice. "Sneaky, sneaky, Amie." She winced. "M-Master Boris…"

"You've been avoiding me."

"Never, Master," she choked out, the lie tasting bitter on her tongue.

"Oh, really?" He yanked her hair again, harder this time. "Do you think me a fool? How dare you lie to me? Where is the little prince, Amie? You were supposed to bring him to me."

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