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

Chapter 68: "I'm glad to hear that."

"What about you, Em? I loathe the fact that they do not assign you a specific duty. They constantly change your tasks. It would be better if you had a consistent role, even if it meant enduring some stress. You would be at less risk of working for wicked slave masters if you only interacted with a few of them," Aekiera expressed her concern. "Perhaps the cellar would be best."

"Not the cellar," Emeriel countered quickly. Too quickly.

Aekeira turned her head sharply. "What is wrong? Has anyone… Have those masters been cruel to you?" Emeriel hesitated. It was always difficult to lie to Aekeira. "Not both. One of them has… has taken an interest in me."

His sister froze, dread pooling in her eyes, worry replacing tiredness. "Oh, dear lord…"

"You need not worry," Emeriel was quick to add, saddened by the look on her face. He tried to make her feel better. "He has not acted on his desires yet. I reminded him that I belong to a grand lord, and it made him cautious."

"Nothing can make them cautious, Em. You do not have to lie to me. I understand that I cannot always protect you, but it breaks my heart to think that after everything you went through with the beast, not long ago, some useless master is onto you again." Aekeira's sorrowful eyes burned with anger. "Perhaps I should poison him."

Emeriel was so startled that for a moment, he couldn't form words. "No! Do not do that. Have you forgotten the consequences of killing a master!? You would be whipped, tortured. Burned alive!"

"One has to get caught first." Aekeira squared her shoulders stubbornly.

"Nothing remains hidden under the sun. Aside from their investigations, these people are Urekai, not humans. They possess heightened senses and numerous magical artifacts that could rival even the mages. You would be caught," Emeriel pleaded.

Lаtєst chαptєrs in g????l????ov????ls.ｃοm

If they began to kill every slave master who mistreated them, how many would they have to kill? It would become an endless cycle of violence. How long would it take before their own humanity faded away, and they turned into monsters?

"We are slaves, Aekeira," Emeriel spoke softly, his voice filled with resignation as he continued to untangle her hair with the brush. "This is our fate."

A heavy silence settled between them.

"That is usually my line, Em. I am usually the one speaking of despair and acceptance," Aekeira's voice cracked. "You were always the one offering encouraging words, saying all that nonsense about faith and hope."

"Yes," Emeriel conceded. But when one has a secret so burdening, when one's body undergoes strange changes, has been brutally mounted by a feral beast, roughly handled, and lashed with a thorned whip, one was bound to feel exhausted.

"I am just so tired, Keira," he kept his voice steady and light. His sister must not know how much he was breaking inside.

However, Aekeira, always perceptive, rose again, turned, and pulled him into another heartwarming embrace. Emeriel went easily, hugging her tightly as he breathed in her familiar scent.

Aekeira always smelled like their mother. It was soothing. Until Aekeira's hand pressed against his back, unintentionally applying pressure to his wound, sending a sharp pang of pain through his body. Emeriel jerked, crying out in pain.

His sister pulled away, her brows furrowed. "What is the matter?"

.

.

.