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

Chapter 61: What?! Emeriel's heart pounded loudly in his chest. He dropped to his knees, his voice trembling. "F-forgive me, mistress. I have c-committed an offense against you, and I deserve to be punished. But please, show mercy-"

"Silence! Be grateful that I am not having you stripped and paraded!"

Emeriel had witnessed slaves being whipped before, and it was a sight one could never forget. The whips were sturdy and filled with thorns.

Panic gripped him. His mouth opened to plead further… But in the end, he closed it soundlessly.

She would not listen to his pleas, would she?

Emeriel was all too familiar with aristocrats like her back in Navia. They thrived on the suffering of others, showing no mercy. He was a prince-a princess? Whatever-his pride was all he had left.

"Position your back, slave," the slave master ordered.

Emeriel complied, raising his head to get a good look at Mistress Sinai. She appeared entirely satisfied, looking down her haughty nose at him as if he were dirt. Tremors coursed through his body as he positioned his back. He hadn't fully settled into position when the first lash struck.

White-hot pain surged through him as he cried out, his body bending under the unbearable torture. Before he could fully absorb that excruciating pain, another lash followed. And another.

Emeriel screamed, overwhelmed, his back tearing under the thorns of the whip, blood trickling down.

After the third strike, he may have slipped into shock. The sounds around him faded, the impact of each lash jarring him. It was raw agony… as if his entire body had been submerged in boiling water.

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When he regained some awareness of his surroundings, he found himself lying alone on the ground. A movement sent waves of pain rippling across his back and throughout his body. Tears streamed down his face as he struggled to get up. Through his blurred vision, he managed to make his way back to the citadel.

He stumbled up the stairs, but a feminine arm wrapped around him.

"What happened to you, Prince Emeriel? Who whipped you?" Amie's figure appeared before him.

"Amie…" he sobbed, his lips parched.

"Say nothing. You do not need to explain. I'll take you to Madam Livia!" she said, supporting him with her arms.

Relieved that he didn't have to find his own way, he allowed Amie to escort him.

An hour later, the pain had somewhat subsided, thanks to whatever Madam Livia had given him. He lay on the bed, topless, while Amie hovered nearby and Madam Livia mixed some leaves in a bowl.

"You should do your best to avoid Mistress Sinai, Emeriel," Madam Livia advised. "Do everything you can to avoid becoming her target."

"I had no idea she had arrived, Madam, I swear. I greeted her as soon as I realized, but according to her, it was already too late." Emeriel recalled the searing pain of the whip slicing into his back as Madam Livia applied herbs to his wounds and wrapped them in cloth. "It may sound absurd, but it felt as though she specifically targeted me. I have not done anything to incur her grudge or wrath."

Madam Livia remained silent, but her mind was clearly at work.

"Here, drink this," the woman eventually said, handing Emeriel a cup filled with a bitter concoction.

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